His shuttle was fast, comfortable, and stocked with the niceties that such people always needed for their egos. The shuttle was his life, one that he had worked hard for. Now he hung his head down as he was being escorted to the cruiser’s brig. It wasn’t fair, what they had asked him to do. Seeing his chance, he pushed the nearby guard into the other one and turned to run. He was also hoping that the Blue would make a break, but instead, the Karduan jumped on him, tackling him around the legs and taking him to the floor.
Mister Rabb and Pendleton quickly recovered and rushed over to break up the two struggling prisoners. Placing a foot on the shuttle pilot’s back, he pressed him into the metal floor’s grating.
“One more attempt like that and I’ll put a round in your ass and let Doc Beilor dig it out!” Rabb declared, aiming his M-21 at the back of his head as Pendleton pulled Ueshiba’s hands together behind his back.
Their problem was that they didn’t have anything to restrain him with, and neither man had a weapon capable of firing shock darts or even a stun baton. Their dilemma was solved from a surprising source as the Karduan took off a cord from around his waist that he had been using to hold his pants up. Offering it to them, he smiled and then held his wrists together to also be bound.
“Damn! Never thought a Blue would be helping us take down a human,” Pendleton swore, shaking his head in wonder as he tied Ueshiba’s wrists tightly behind him.
“It’s a funny thing who your friends are sometimes,” Rabb commented, trying not to be distracted again.
On the bridge, Mike, Dover, and Hutton had just arrived behind a sprinting Martin Daley. The three had tried hard to keep up with the track-star who rushed through the ship’s corridors and had reached the lift long before them. Not waiting for his armored laden friends, Martin took the lift to the bridge to get his data imputed.
“Welcome aboard!” an oddly familiar-sounding voice said as they exited the lift. The three men turned to the raised dais where the captain’s chair sat and were shocked at who they saw sitting there. Mike and Alister had expected Commander Richards to be seated there; the last person any of them expected was the man who smiled down at them. “And good to see you’ve joined us, Commander Hutton.”
“Sir!” Both Dover and Collins cried out in mixture of surprise and overwhelming joy. The rest of the bridge crew was an assortment of veterans and midshipmen. All were busy at their stations, but their smiles were just as broad. Hutton nodded with a smile and shook his head in a sort of pleasant disbelief.
Mike had to admit that the old fellow looked better than he had the last time he had seen him. Captain Hope had a smile a mile wide. He was dressed in a clean and pressed Confederation uniform with a standard ship’s jacket. He obviously had taken a bath, and his hair and beard were neat and freshly trimmed. A mug of steaming coffee was in the holder of his chair. The logo on the mug was that of Harpers Academy.
“But how?” Mike finally said, a little dumbfounded and shocked at seeing -- alive and well -- a man he thought drugged and dead.
Laughter from behind him made him look over his shoulder. There stood the old marine with an equally shit-eating grin upon his face.
“You don’t think the Padre and I thought up this whole scheme to repair and steal a cruiser from under both the Karduan and Austro officials’ noses all by ourselves, did you?”
“No, that’s one thing that I always thought was hard to swallow,” Mike replied, still smiling as he bantered with his old friend out of habit.
“That’s very good, gentlemen, but explanations and homecomings will have to wait until we are clear of this system,” Hope said with a grin. “Mister Dover, please take the empty helm seat. I’m told you are familiarized with this ship’s controls.”
Dover nodded with a wicked smile. He had logged in almost three hundred hours in the simulator, all after duty hours, and had personally helped install the bridge’s replacement controls.
“First, officer, what is the status of the port engines?” Captain Hope asked, pivoting his chair to the other side.
Commander Richards shook his head as he leaned over a station’s monitoring panel. “They are still not answering the startup sequence, sir, though the starboard engines are at eighty percent.”
“It will have to do. Commander, please take us out,” he said to Richards, and then turned to Hutton. “Commander, get down to engineering and see if you can lend a hand. I recall you did a tour in engineering as an ensign on the old Bunker Hill. Then I want you to prepare a team to repel boarders if need be.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” the Commando said, feeling a little lost on the bridge. He was trained for ground combat and zero-atmosphere environments. A skilled combatant and pilot, he was of little use at a bridge station. In fact, he had never served on a bridge of a ship larger than a frigate, and that was when he was but a very junior officer. Still, he turned about sharply and hurried off to do his best. Of course, he first had to find his way down to the engine room.
“Release magnetic locking clamps,” Richards ordered, standing next to the captain’s chair. When the clamps released acknowledgment was reported back, he continued, “Starboard thrusters, twenty second burn at fifty percent.”
“Aye, sir.”
A moment later, the huge cruiser’s thrusters pushed her away from the repair dock that had given her a second chance at life and a second chance to fight.
“Fusion drives to one quarter sub-light,” the first officer ordered. “Take us around the station, Mister Dover, and then set a course for the gravity well.”
“Aye, sir,” Dover said, repeating the order as he piloted the Wolf by the station.
Passing the stripped Surprise, Mike turned to Captain Hope. “Sir?” he asked questioningly.
The former commandant’s face twisted in pain. He knew what the young ensign was asking without having him say the words. Mister Collins wanted to render honors to the scraped frigate. “We need every second of head start we can get,” he replied seriously, seeing the young man’s face drop in disappointment even as his head nodded in agreement.
“But” the old man continued, “They probably already know something is up, so let’s give the old girl a salute,” he said, realizing he was betting his new and shaky command on sentiment and honor.
The crew’s reaction was predictable: a cheer followed the command as the ship’s starboard side fusion cannons elevated above the gutted hull and fired one salvo. A second cheer followed, and then the gunnery station’s panel started to smoke. The fire was quickly beaten out, and the veteran chief who was manning the station didn’t look happy.
“How bad, Chief Burke?” the captain asked the thin, elderly man whose brand new duty uniform fit loosely about him.
Burke frowned as a midshipman helped him pull the gunnery station apart. “At least an hour.”
Hope nodded, thinking that this was a good thing; better to find out your central fire control system was crap before you had to actually use it in battle.
“Mister Richards, order all gunnery teams to their sections. Have them prepare for manually firing on my command.”
Richards repeated the order over the ship’s intercom system, and then turned back to the helm. “Mister Dover, please increase speed to maximum sub-light,” he instructed, now that the cruiser was clear of the station.
Their course was set to take them partway around the planet, away from where the Karduan ships and their two Austro cutters were in station keeping orbits. They would then break from obit and use the additional push from the planet’s gravity in a sort of slingshot effect to propel them towards the star’s gravity well. Every additional ounce of thrust was needed as a head start if they were to escape.
The planet had gravity wells and even gravity-neutral zones or Lagrange points, where gravitational forces were stable, but for several reasons, they weren’t used.
A planet’s gravity wells were usually too weak and often unstable to be used to open a bend or wormhole. Such
a bend from an unstable hole might end up with the ship somewhere they didn’t intend, or could even collapse and crush the ship before it could slip through. In addition, it was unsafe to open them that close to an inhabited planet. One mistake, and the ship could explode and rain debris on the world below, or even though it had never happened, warp the hole to affect the world directly.
For these reasons, the Wolf had to risk the longer route towards the star’s gravity field to make their bend. If she had, had both of her bender drives’ operation, she might have been able to use Austro Prime’s gravitational field, but with only one engine, it was a formula for disaster.
This route also came with greater risk. The Star Wolf and her crew had to outrace the Karduan and Austro ships, get by the planet’s satellite defense platforms, and then perform a bend on only one drive. They had a few advantages of a sizable head start and a boost in velocity from the planet.
“Mister Collins, have Admiral Kirkland and Minister Rutford brought up here,” Hope ordered without turning his chair as he slowly took a sip of his coffee. He then smiled with pleasure and looked to the Gunny. “At least the coffee pot works.”
“Ah… sir,” a midshipman started, unsure how to signal the first officer.
Richards recognized his uneasiness and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, son. What’s your name?”
“Midshipman Ben Lewis, sophomore class, sir,” the nervous young man replied. At nineteen years old and at the start of his second year at the academy, he hadn’t planned on being at the controls of the maser detection system.
Luckily, just this past summer, he had gone on a two-month cruise, where he and other middies had the opportunity to shadow active duty servicemen and learn their jobs. He had been assigned to the light cruiser ISS Carondelet, which had a maser system similar to the one on the ISS Star Wolf. The thought of the cruiser and its friendly crew even now brought a smile to his stressed face.
The Carondelet was named after a Union Civil War - era steam-powered iron clad that had fought in more battles than any other ship in the American Civil War. It had survived the war and later sank in the Ohio River in 1873.
“Well, Mister Lewis, what do you have?” the first officer asked, looking at the holo scope.
Ben touched the panel, swore, and touched it a second time. A holo image of two ships appeared. “I make out one as an express class freighter and the second as a Karduan destroyer Escort.”
“A third DE?” Richard said aloud as he wondered where it came from.
Behind them, Mike had crossed to their station and saw the ships’ profiles. “Commander, those are the privateer ships of your pal, Alexander the Great. The armed freighter is the Chaos, and the DE is the Anarchy.”
Richards’ face lost its color as he paused speechless at what laid before them.
Mike saw his hesitation and covered for him. “Mister Lewis, what is the status of those ships?”
The middy ran a scan and double-checked it before he reported, “Sir, they are powered down, and their engines are at stations keeping.”
“In other words, they’re caught with their pants down,” Mike announced, looking first to Richards, who smiled, and then to the center chair. “Sir?”
Hope had been watching the main viewer, but had also been listening to the conversation at the maser station.
“What is the status of our gun crews?” he asked to no one in particular.
“Manned and ready, sir,” the Commander replied.
“Then Mister Richards, you have the con,” the captain said, momentarily turning over command to his executive officer.
Richards grinned and his eyes squinted in determination.
“Thank you, sir,” he said softly, looking to Hope, who simply nodded in reply. He then turned to the young ensign who had helped to make this possible. “Mister Collins, order all gun crews to fire on my command as we pass. Tell them to make each shot count, and to especially target their engines.” He may have wanted some payback, but he also wanted to make sure they could not join in on the pursuit.
“Very good, sir!”
The Wolf continued towards her unsuspecting prey as she quickly closed the distance. Coming into their main guns’ range, Richards gave the order for her particle cannon turrets to open fire. Each turret had three cannons per emplacement, which were used for long range firing. The four forward fusion batteries were heavy hitting, but were only good at shorter ranges.
At this command, the two forward batteries of three cannon each open fired, missing most of their first salvo’s shots, but scored significant hits with their second fire.
“Nothing like a little gunnery practice,” Hope commented, smiling at the nearby gunnery sergeant.
Masters returned his smile, knowing what they had done to the commander. “Never know when it might come in handy,” he commented, watching the main viewer.
Closing to point blank range, the ship’s portside fusion batteries opened up, tearing into the former Karduan DE, and then targeting on the armed freighter. At the end of the firing, less than five minutes later, both of the privateer’s ships had taken appalling damage. The better-armored destroyer escort’s engines were badly damaged and were leaking fuel. The freighter fared worse and looked to be completely laid open from bow to stern on her starboard side. Neither ship was going to be chasing anyone for a long time.
“Comm. send a message to the privateers,” Richards said, and then paused as the chief opened a channel. “From Borochun with his best regards, and have a nice day.”
“Mister Collins, pass my complements on to the gun crews, well done!” he said, and then turned to the captain. “Sir, I relinquish command back to you, and thank you.”
Again, the old hawk simply nodded and gave his recovered first officer a knowing smile.
“And well done to you XO.”
“Sir, the Karduan and Austro ships are breaking orbit and have set a pursuit course,” the midshipman operating the maser detection system reported.
Richards looked over Lewis’s shoulder at the holo scope. “Planetary defense platform coming up in five minutes. They may hold their fire until we are past them for fear of hitting the planet.” The midshipman’s face turned a little red for not reporting that, but the first officer didn’t say anything, he just simply pointed at the holo image floating before him.
“Forward batteries, lock onto the platform,” Hope commanded as the order was relayed to the two forward particle cannon turrets.
As the comm. chief relayed the command, four armed guards consisting of two middies and two vets escorted some of their human prisoners onto the bridge.
Admiral Kirkland rushed forward, breaking loose from his guard, his hands still bound behind his back.
“You can’t fire,” he said, looking at the floating holo screen and turning toward the captain’s chair. “If you destroy the platform, you’ll significantly reduce Austro’s ability to defend itself.”
Before the Captain could reply, Mr. Rutford cut in.
“Hope! What are you doing here?” he exclaimed with a total look of surprise on his face.
The old officer looked him over and slowly took a sip of his coffee. It was obvious to Mike that the minister was somehow involved with the attempt to drug the commandant and get him to kill himself.
“Minister Rutford, how good of you to join us,” he said, and then, without looking away, gave the order to fire. Though coming off as casual and smug, secretly, he had mentally crossed his fingers, praying that the weapons would again work and that the crews wouldn’t miss their mark.
The order was relayed just as the distraught planetary admiral yelled out a “No!”
Turret number one fired first, sending three barely visible blasts of particle charged energy towards the platform. Turret two fired a second later. The particle barrage tore into the unmanned defense satellite, blowing it into rumble. A second firing was not needed.
“I believe that I have made my point
, gentlemen,” Captain Hope said, putting his cup into its holder.
“You’re insane!” Rutford declared, looking to the faces of the young and old men around him. “You’re all insane!”
The crew chuckled at his words, for they had already had that thought about a thousand times each. The effect on the minister was different; he realized from their laughter that he was truly trapped with a crew of desperate and deranged men.
“What do you want, Randolph?” Kirkland asked, using the captain’s first name. He knew Hope from his time in the Confederation Navy, and had even served with him on several campaigns. Their wives had been friends for years, and they had often had dinner at each other’s homes. Recently, the old friends had fallen out of touch, which was only amplified by the increased political attention to both of their positions.
Before the change in government, Hope had even been offered Kirkland’s job but had turned it down to be the superintendent at Harpers Academy.
Hope stared at him and sighed. “What do you think I want, John?”
“Safe passage to the star’s gravity well,” the old admiral said; it was what he would have wanted if their roles had been reversed.
The captain nodded and smiled, looking like the predator that was his nickname. The Hawk had him in his talons, and the admiral knew he was in a no-win situation. The cruiser was able to fight its way through the two cutters before the other two cutters and Karduan ships could catch up.
No matter the outcome, a battle would leave the Austro system with little left to defend themselves. If they didn’t fight, the Karduans might take it as a treaty violation and send their forces into the system to take it over anyway.
“You can’t do this, Randolph,” he started, trying to reason with him. “Either way, Austro is going to lose, and its people will suffer.”
The Log of the Gray Wolf (Star Wolf Squadron Book 1) Page 12
