by Tori Harris
“All weapons ready, Captain,” Lau reported.
“As we pass over Charlie 3 dead ahead, you should have a clear shot at Charlie 1’s stern. Hit her with all five forward plasma torpedoes. Helm, as soon as the torps are away, turn to bring the aft tubes to bear.”
“Aye, sir,” both officers answered.
“Lau, fire at will with all beam weapons and railguns. Concentrate your fire on their stern just like last time. Lieutenant Lee, are the shields holding?”
“Yes, sir, but they’re taking a hell of a beating at the moment. Zero hull impacts so far,” he responded from the Science and Engineering console.
At hundreds of locations surrounding Theseus’ massive hull, an unbroken series of flashes burst forth to light the immediate area as her AI worked to intercept the relentless hail of incoming fire from the enemy BD cruiser. The awesome spectacle playing out on the bridge view screen reminded Prescott of a time-lapsed video he had once seen condensing several hours’ worth of lightning from an intense thunderstorm into only a few seconds. As the bolts of energy streamed in from Charlie 3, Theseus’ AI deflected as many as possible in the direction of Charlie 1, adding to the barrage of beam and kinetic energy weapons fire already hammering the cruiser’s aft shields.
“Fisher, as soon as the second torpedo salvo is away, C-Jump one light minute straight ahead.”
“Looking forward to it, sir,” he replied.
For a brief moment while Theseus passed directly over the Hadeon, both of the BD cruiser’s energy weapons banks had the opportunity to target the destroyer’s underside simultaneously. The firing was so intense and from such close range that some of the bolts managed to impact the ship’s ventral hull. The destroyer shook with several impacts as sections of her outermost armor were ablated by the incoming fire. A few anxious seconds later, as the sound of the impacts finally ceased, each member of the crew stole a quick look at the hull impacts counter on the tactical plot, which now stood at seven.
“Lieutenant Lee, damage report.”
“No apparent damage so far, Captain,” he answered without looking up from the Science and Engineering console. “The shields apparently start to lose some effectiveness when we have multiple hits with low angles of incidence, though.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Hear that, Fisher, let’s not try that again.”
“Got it, sir,” his young helmsman replied enthusiastically as the first salvo of five plasma torpedoes issued forth from the ship’s forward tubes. Traveling at nearly thirty percent the speed of light, the compressed bolts of plasma reached the stern of Charlie 1 in less than three one-thousandths of a second, delivering over seven times as much energy to the cruiser’s aft shields as Ingenuity’s had during the previous battle.
“Forward torps away,” Lau said, after the fact.
“Direct hits,” Schmidt reported. “Their aft shields are still up, but fluctuating.”
“Aft torps, as quickly as possible,” Prescott replied.
On cue, Fisher pulled the destroyer into an aggressive climbing turn to port that shortly thereafter allowed her aft torpedo tubes to acquire their target.
“Aft torpedoes away,” Lau reported again as Theseus’ railguns continued to pound Charlie 1’s stern with a steady stream of kinetic energy penetration rounds.
“Tactical C-Jumping,” Fisher reported.
As relative calm returned to the bridge, Prescott suddenly felt uncomfortable with the idea that Turlaka might be about to witness the deaths of thousands of her people at the hands of a civilization she had only recently met. “Madame Ambassador, you have our deepest gratitude for your assistance, but please allow me to have you escorted somewhere more comfortable for the remainder of our encounter with the Resistance forces.”
“By that, you obviously mean that you intend to wipe them out completely,” she replied calmly. “No, Captain, you and I have both acted appropriately. The Pelaran Resistance is an illegal, rogue regime that is putting all seven worlds of the Sajeth Collective at risk with their cowardly, dishonorable conduct. I do not relish the idea of anyone, Wek or otherwise, losing their life, but today, I believe we are doing what is necessary to protect both your home and mine.”
Prescott stared at her briefly, wondering if she was truly prepared for what she might be about to see. “I am very sorry it has come to this. You have my word that I will continue to do everything I can to avoid any unnecessary loss of life.”
“Sir,” Fisher reported, “I’ve plotted a return transition point that should keep us well clear of our fighters as well as Charlie 2’s field of fire. We will still be close enough to reengage, if necessary.”
“Execute your C-Jump,” Prescott replied.
With the ship no longer in immediate danger, the AI took a few extra seconds to both warn the crew of the impending transition and complete a more exhaustive set of diagnostics than during what Fisher now referred to as a “Tactical C-Jump.” “Capacitive hyperdrive engaged,” the AI’s synthetic voice announced ship-wide, “transition in 3 … 2 … 1 …”
In the center of the bridge view screen, the three Resistance cruisers reappeared and smoothly expanded to fill the bottom center of the display as Theseus covered the seventeen-million-kilometer distance back to Location Dagger in the blink of an eye.
“I have the fighters,” Schmidt reported. “They are staying well clear of the cruisers, sir. The two flights are designated Badger 1 and Badger 2 on the tactical plot. Charlie 1’s shields are still up, but they’re intermittent at this point.”
“That’s good,” Prescott replied. “I’m pretty sure one of those hits we took would have been more than enough to take out one of our fighters. Besides, they don’t need to get close. All they need is good data to execute their attack, and we’ve given them plenty of that. How about Charlie 4? Any change?”
“No, sir. She is continuing to move downrange — steady course and speed.”
“Hopefully, that’s one less to worry about,” Prescott said. “Something tells me they weren’t happy with the way Captain Miah handled things.”
“Nor should they be,” Turlaka interjected. “If he were a Wek officer, he would most certainly be court-martialed for gross misconduct and cowardice in the line of duty. Breaking the terms of a truce or parley is a capital offense on Graca.”
“Sir, Charlie 3 looks like she’s trying to line up for a shot at us again. She’s ignoring the fighters for now,” Lau said.
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Helm, just work on complicating their firing solution for a little longer. The fighters will have their undivided attention shortly,” Prescott ordered.
“Missile launch!” Schmidt announced. “Multiple missile launches from Charlie 1 and 2. Badger 1 flight just launched a salvo of missiles as well. Stand by.”
Near the stern of each heavy cruiser flanking the Hadeon, bright plumes of fire could be seen as a number of missiles rose from their vertical launch cells.
“Helm, be ready with another Tactical C-Jump. Let’s not rely on the shields unless we have to.”
“Aye, sir,” Fisher replied.
“Sixteen missiles inbound,” Schmidt updated. “Time to impact, two five seconds.”
“Not this time, I think,” Reynolds muttered under her breath as she placed a zoomed-in view of Charlie 1 on one side of the view screen just in time to witness the ship’s stern flare brightly with a rapid series of explosions. The impacts occurred only seconds after two C-Drive-equipped missiles had been fired from each of Captain Zhukov’s flight of twelve F-373 fighters. Once the cruiser’s stern was partially visible once again, it was immediately clear that she was out of the fight. While her hull remained largely intact, the drive section was a mangled mess. Raging fires and secondary explosions could be seen in a number of locations where what must have been oxidizer and propellant were being rapidly vented into space.
“The AI counted twenty-four missile impacts in the area around Charlie 1’s stern,” Lau reported. “They appear
to be without power … engines, shields, weapons … all offline.” Lau paused as Theseus’ AI continued to update its battle damage assessment, then continued. “Confirmed, Captain, she is adrift with multiple hull breaches.”
“That’s exactly what we were hoping to see. Dubashi, hail the Hadeon — text only. Instruct her and her consort to lower their shields and power down their weapons immediately, or we will have no choice but to destroy both of their vessels. Keep repeating the message until they reply.”
“Aye, sir.”
Not for the first time, Prescott wondered at the Sajeth Collective warships’ lack of point defense weapons. Was there some technical reason — perhaps related to their shields — that rendered such systems less effective, or had their shields proven so reliable in the past that there had simply been no need for additional defenses until now? Admiral Naftur tended to become rather close-lipped when it came to discussing such things, but Prescott nevertheless made a mental note to ask the question at some point. He also wondered how many ships they would allow themselves to lose to C-Drive-equipped missiles before they found some way to make themselves less vulnerable — particularly at the stern.
“Helm, go ahead and C-Jump us over in the vicinity of our fighters. I doubt those incoming missiles will reacquire us, but keep an eye on them.”
“Aye, sir. Tactical C-Jumping.”
This time, Theseus’ AI depicted the transition from one side of the battlespace to the other as a “flyby” of the Resistance ships, the final result of which was their arrival at a point halfway between the drifting hulk of Charlie 1 and the original Location Dagger.
Suddenly finding themselves with no target, but still in relatively close proximity to friendly vessels, all sixteen missiles fired by Charlie 1 and 2 self-destructed.
“No remaining missiles in flight at this time,” Lau reported after allowing a few seconds for light to arrive from their previous location. “Charlie 2 and 3 have ceased fire.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Green deck, XO. Let’s try to make it as clear as we can that they really only have one option at this point.”
“Aye, sir,” Reynolds replied, entering a series of commands at her touchscreen to provide the necessary clearances to Theseus’ Flight Deck.
Seconds later, twelve of the destroyer’s twenty-four Hunter RPSVs lifted off from her aft flight apron, split into two groups, and headed for defensive flanking positions to port and starboard.
“Twelve Hunters are away, sir,” Schmidt reported. “Twelve more launching in zero two minutes.”
“Keep them on anti-missile duty for the moment. If we need to attack again, I’d prefer to allow the Reapers to do what they do best.”
“Aye, sir,” Schmidt replied. “Charlie 2 and 3 just lowered their shields and powered down their weapons.”
“Hadeon is hailing again,” Dubashi announced.
“Let them wait a moment,” Prescott replied. “Ambassador, assuming we are dealing primarily with Wek crews, how can we expect them to respond to an order to surrender?”
“Generally speaking, you can expect a Wek officer to do exactly what he says he’s going to do,” Turlaka replied. “If he surrenders, or is ordered to surrender by a superior officer, he is honor-bound from that moment forward to conduct himself and his vessel as a noncombatant. Under normal circumstances, however, Wek captains do not surrender their vessels unless they have no hope of either victory or escape. I suspect what we are witnessing today is a confused, perhaps even mutinous situation created as a direct result of Captain Miah being imposed upon these crews … particularly given that he holds the rank of commander and is a captain only by virtue of his current assignment.”
“Well, if they do surrender to us, it creates a bit of a problem. We really don’t have sufficient personnel to put together a single prize crew, let alone two or three.”
“We also can’t wait here for reinforcements from Earth, sir,” Reynolds interjected. “By the time they arrive, it’s a safe bet that the rest of the Resistance task force will have had enough time to reestablish communications with these ships from their new rally point …”
“And enough time to send help,” Prescott said, finishing her sentence. “Alright, we may be solving a problem that doesn’t even exist, so let’s see how this conversation goes and we’ll figure it out from there. Dubashi, put Captain Miah from the Hadeon on-screen again, please.”
Seconds later, a vidcon window opened once again in the center of the bridge view screen. This time, Captain Miah’s face had been replaced by that of a powerful-looking male Wek officer.
“My compliments, Captain Prescott,” he began formally. “I am Commander Yuli Takkar. I have relieved Commander Miah of command and placed him under arrest for violating the rules of war when communicating with your ship earlier. My apologies for taking so long to do so, but we do not take such actions lightly. Given the circumstances, would you be willing to continue a dialog with me under the terms of the original parley?”
“I appreciate your offer, Commander, but I think you will agree that the situation has changed significantly since then,” Prescott said, smiling pleasantly. “It was not our original intent to engage in combat with your vessels, but we were fired upon, defended ourselves, and now hold an overwhelming tactical advantage. Would you agree to a parley at this point if you were in my position?”
“I’m sorry, Captain, but Commander Miah used a communications terminal for his conversation with you, so there was quite a bit that I was unable to hear. What was your original intent?” Takkar asked, sidestepping Prescott’s question.
Prescott shook his head, chuckling to himself at the thinly veiled attempt to redirect their conversation back to something approaching the terms of the original parley. “Alright, Commander, you seem like a reasonable officer, so I will agree to have a brief conversation with you. Let me be absolutely clear, however, that this is your final opportunity. Any further aggression …”
“You have my word, Captain,” Takkar replied earnestly.
“Very well. And you have my word that we will not interfere with rescue operations.”
“Thank you, Captain. We will begin launching shuttles immediately,” he replied, turning to nod at his second-in-command. “When you were speaking to Commander Miah, I did hear something mentioned about Rugali Naftur. If you have recovered his body, we would appreciate your allowing us to return him to Graca so that we may render the final respects appropriate for someone of his stature.”
“His body? No, Commander, Admiral Naftur was seriously injured earlier today, but came through emergency surgery just fine, thanks to Ambassador Turlaka here,” Prescott replied.
“That’s simply not possible, Captain. We know that his squadron was destroyed by Human forces, no doubt with the help of the Pelaran Guardian, over a month ago,” Takkar growled, his eyes flashing into barely contained fury. “The opportunity to avenge his death is, in fact, the reason most of us are here.”
“Contact!” Lieutenant Lau announced from Tactical 1. “It’s not one we’ve seen before. She’s big, sir — thirteen hundred meters.”
“That would be the Baldev,” Commander Takkar said with a fierce smile. “Captain Prescott, I will, of course, honor my word not to fire on your vessel, but I cannot speak for Captain Yagani. He is a senior captain, so I expect he will assume command of all Pelaran Resistance forces in the area. Once again, if you would turn over Naftur’s body …”
At that moment, the aft bridge door opened and Doctor Jiao Chen walked onto Theseus’ bridge pushing a grav chair bearing a tired, but surprisingly alert Admiral Rugali Naftur.
On the view screen, Commander Takkar’s eyes went wide with immediate recognition. “Your Highness!” he gasped, dropping immediately to one knee with his right fist clasped over his heart. Aboard Hadeon, the ship’s AI recognized the acting captain’s gesture and widened the field of view to encompass the entire bridge. Within seconds, every visible member of her crew had kneeled
and was saluting in similar fashion.
TFC Pine Gap Shipyard Facility
(Northern Territory, Australia - 35 km southwest of Alice Springs)
It had taken “Gamble 22” less than an hour to pinpoint the end of the particle trails marking the location where twenty-six Resistance task force warships had transitioned back to normal space. Possibly chosen to allow their slowest warships to remain within one hour’s flight time of the original rally point, the newly christened “Location Crossbow” was still a respectable 22.9 light days (five hundred and ninety-three billion kilometers) distant. After a final C-Jump back to the Location Dagger comm beacon, the solo F-373 had transmitted its valuable reconnaissance data via NRD net to TFS Navajo, where it immediately received Admiral Patterson’s undivided attention.
Seeing an opportunity to gain the initiative for the first time since the Resistance forces began assembling for their attack on Earth, the admiral had quickly made the decision to position all of the C-Jump-capable forces he currently had at his disposal for a surprise attack. Although not nearly as formidable a force as he would have preferred to send, the number of ships indicating a “mission effective” status had increased significantly over the past forty-eight hours …
***
It was already early morning of the following day in the Australian Outback. Shattering the serenity for which the surrounding bronze-colored deserts and rugged canyons are often known, a low frequency rumble echoed through the predawn darkness as the Pine Gap Shipyard’s massive blast doors slowly opened. As the gap between the doors reached two hundred seventy-five meters, a sleek, brownish-grey bow emerged from the dimly lit entrance cavern. Once clear of the shipyard, the Theseus-class destroyer Karna climbed silently into the sky, shortly thereafter breaking into full sunlight as Earth’s terminator approached from the east.
