Winged Hussars (The Revelations Cycle Book 3)

Winged Hussars (The Revelations Cycle Book 3) Page 24

by Mark Wandrey

  “I began to think something was amiss when the Peacemakers contacted us for the last job, and the Equiri member of their guild came on board. We were on the far side of the galaxy already, and the timing seemed too serendipitous.”

  “Are you suggesting the Peacemakers are involved?” Paka asked.

  “No,” she said quickly. “Although I haven’t ruled out some sort of guild politics, I believe the Peacemakers are above this.” But they’re probably the only guild above external politics. “Whoever is pulling the strings has deep pockets and vast power, though, if they are able to manipulate the Peacemakers. Everything since that contract has been geared toward destroying us or maneuvering us into life or death situations. This has become increasingly obvious.”

  “And desperate,” Edwards agreed.

  “So, you see it, too?” Alexis asked, relief evident in her voice. Almost reluctantly, the small black man nodded his oversized head.

  “The blockade of Sulaadar was too fucking convenient.”

  “Wait,” Hoot interrupted. “You’re suggesting that someone interdicted a major trade hub like Sulaadar just to get us?”

  “I’m saying they manipulated the situation to their advantage to put us in harm’s way. Maybe that little gig had been in the making for years, and whoever is doing this got word of it. They knew we were probably going through and pushed it ahead,” Alexis said. “They knew we were going Home. Even if they don’t know where Home is, they could probably have guessed Sulaadar was a logical stop.”

  “But not the only one,” Chug pointed out.

  “No,” Paka agreed, “which is why I did some checking when we got here. There were incidents in the three other logical destinations we could have gone after crossing the Crapti Rift.” Alexis looked at her XO, who nodded gravely. Alexis wasn’t surprised Paka had been investigating, as well. Everyone was silent as they let the information sink in. “Someone wants us dead and is sparing no expense.”

  “What about the Golden Horde?” Flipper asked.

  “I sent a message to Sansar Enkh, commander of the Horde, but they don’t currently have a rep on Karma. We must assume they’re either in danger, or are about to be. They have a large team working on our defenses at Home; I’ll discuss this with them when we get there.”

  “But why is this happening?” Edwards asked. “What does it get whoever is doing this? The Hussars are just one of hundreds of Human merc units.”

  “I don’t know yet,” Alexis admitted.

  “” the other agreed. “”

  “You mentioned you were going to wait until we reached Home,” Paka said, “but now you can’t?”

  “Yes,” Alexis said, and held up a computer chip. “Hoot just gave me this a few minutes ago. A courier from Home brought it. We had a contract that’s been waiting, a contract to provide fleet assistance on an assault. It’s a big contract. I planned on leading the mission with Pegasus, but because of all we’ve been through, we’re late. Commander Kowalczy followed procedure and took Task Force Two on this mission more than a month ago.” She rolled the chip in her hands. “They’ve been ambushed and trapped in the Grkata system by a huge Maki fleet that interdicted the stargate. They’re being hunted and will likely be wiped out if not relieved.”

  “It’s a trap,” Paka said with finality. “They’re trying to get you to take Task Force Three and our ready reserve to rescue Task Force Two.”

  “Yes,” Alexis agreed. A shouting match broke out as everyone tried to make their opinions known. Slowly, they stopped when they saw the look on their captain’s face.

  “What are you going to do?” Paka asked.

  “Not what they were expecting,” she said. “Not quite, anyway.”

  * * *

  Pegasus labored along at one sixth of a G under its ion drive, while the engineering staff struggled to get her main fusion torch drives working again. The damage was spread throughout the deck, a result of the Zuuls’ actions as well as weapons fire by the ship’s marines. Six hours after the last of the Zuul were neutralized, the sensor techs picked up new arrivals at the system’s emergence point.

  “Report,” Alexis said as she half-floated, half-hopped into the CIC from her wardroom.

  “Two cruisers and three escort frigates just transitioned into the system,” Flipper said.

  “Confidence is high they are Bakulu ships,” Edwards said.

  “” she heard.

  “Engineer Long,” Alexis called on the intercom.

  “Captain?”

  “How are we coming?”

  “Slightly ahead of schedule,” he said. Alexis glanced at the clock displayed on one of the Tri-V tactical screens.

  “The new ships are taking the most direct course for the stargate,” Flipper said.

  Chug manipulated the sensor data, inserted the planet Karma into the view, and displayed the info on one of the Tri-V screens. The emergence point was on the other side of the planet. The new ships were on as close a direct course as was possible, almost skimming the planet’s atmosphere as they passed. Paka looked at the track, and her whiskers twitched.

  “Add our track and probable intercept point, please,” Alexis said. Chug worked and updated the displays. Pegasus was in green, the Bakulu ships in red. Time indexes were logged at points along the courses. The two merged in a little more than seven hours. Alexis quietly cursed.

  “Long, we need power as soon as possible or we’re going to have to fight our way out of here.”

  “In Karma?” the engineer asked incredulously.

  “Yes, in Karma.”

  “Entropy, this is insane,” the Jeha said. Alexis couldn’t argue that.

  Long turned to his two elSha assistants, who were looking at each other in dumbfounded concern. The ship had already been pushed past the breaking point several times in the last few weeks. Now they were testing the bounds of the possible.

  “I need an assessment of the possibility of bypassing the second level safety checks and bringing Reactor Two into torch mode.” His two assistants blinked their independent eyes and checked their slates. Each was handling a separate crew of repair and damage control specialists. They consulted in their own language for several minutes.

  “We both estimate a seven percent chance of a failure resulting in drive damage,” the senior of the two reported.

  “And the chance of catastrophic failure?” A catastrophic failure of a fusion torch wouldn’t destroy the ship, but would probably kill most of the engineering staff and put the ship out of commission.

  “Less than one percent,” they stated.

  Long nodded his mandibled head and turned his eyestalks to his slate, where one of his delicate manipulative hands tapped and moved status bars. “Captain,” he finally said, “I can give you a torch in two hours with an acceptable chance of secondary failure.”

  “Very well, please do so. Will power be available for tactical systems?”

  “You have tactical power now,” he said. “Reactor Two, the damaged one, is idling at five percent. That’s all that is available for shields and defensive armaments.”

  “That should suffice for now,” Alexis said. “Well done.”

  Long signed off and dispatched his assistants to spread the orders. They knew the risks and the crew would as well. They also knew if the ship couldn’t maneuver and fight back, the risks were an order of magnitude worse. His sinuous body moved rapidly along conduits and walls toward the control room, which had just been put back into service.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 27

  “Update on the quarry,” Geshakooka ordered.

  “They are still under less than one quarter gravity.”

  Geshakooka’s three eyes blinked as he considered. The information transmitted by the agents on Karma said the Human mercenary ship Pegasus should be disabled. A special team had been inserted into the ship and should have disabled their drives, making i
t easy prey. That would seem to have been an overstatement, although the ship was only thrusting under ion drive. “At our nominal five gravities, we will intercept in another four hours.”

  “How long before they reach the stargate?” The answer only took a moment.

  “Nearly three hours after intercept.”

  “Increase thrust to six gravities,” Geshakooka ordered. His crew complied immediately. As a semi-aquatic mollusk race, they were uniquely suited for both space and high-gravity maneuvers; however, more than a few hours of acceleration in excess of four gravities was tough, even with their unique physiology. Geshakooka was taking a chance on a contract he was less than thrilled with.

  “All craft complying,” SitCon reported.

  “Have medical monitor key crew for signs of acceleration stress,” Geshakooka ordered. It wouldn’t do to catch their prey, only to have his ship unable to fight. Plus, he knew all too well just how deadly that ship could be. In less than four hours, they would find out how deadly he could be.

  * * *

  Two hours passed. Everyone on the bridge watched the constantly updating data feeds. Suddenly the enemy intercept began to move closer. Alexis sat forward in her command chair and watched. Yes, it was definitely getting closer.

  “Helm, report,” Paka ordered, having seen it, as well. Chug worked his controls, tapping at instruments with his pseudopods and using his pinplants to analyze the data.

  “The enemy ships have accelerated to six gravities,” he reported at last.

  “How long can your race tolerate that level of acceleration?” Alexis asked.

  “We can do it for a little while without too much difficulty,” Glick offered. It wasn’t uncommon for one of the two Bakulu bridge officers to answer for the other. The track now showed intercept in less than four hours. “Still, for that long, it will be a strain.”

  “Bridge, this is engineering,” Long’s voice came over the PA.

  “Go ahead, Long,” Alexis said.

  “Bringing a torch drive on line in two minutes.”

  Alexis had been juggling numbers in her head, and wasn’t sure if she liked the conclusions. “Are we going to have power for the hyperspace generators when we get to the stargate?”

  “Ma’am, I’ve been trying to get you main power without blowing up half the ship; I don’t know how long it will last. When do you need hyperspace generators?”

  “Depending on how much thrust you give us, in as little as three hours.”

  “You are kidding, right?” Long asked.

  “I’m not kidding,” Alexis said.

  “Reactor Two is going to be pushing the torch. If I have a minute to decouple it I can power the hyperspace generators,” Long replied.

  “I’m going to need quite a bit more, for a few seconds at least,” Alexis said.

  “Oh,” was Long’s monosyllable reply. “Three is at least six hours from going online; it had the worst damage to its control systems. That’s the one the damned Zuul were trying to use as a bomb. If Two wasn’t questionable at full power, I could give you all the power we need.”

  “Reactor Two is operational,” Alexis countered.

  “Sure, if you don’t push it past five percent. Every point past that increases the probability of blowing its containment.”

  “I only need it for 30 seconds.” She could practically here the Jeha grinding his mandibles together in frustration.

  “That’s an unwise course of action,” he said.

  “Your concern is noted,” Alexis said. “Prepare to use Reactor Two as we approach the stargate. Chug will provide you with the timing via real time data feed.” She turned from the intraship to her pinplants. “I need your help.”

  “”

  “Will it work?”

  “”

  “Make the calculations,” Alexis said.

  “Main drive is online,” Chug announced. “Up to three Gs of thrust at your command.”

  “All of it, please.”

  “Aye-aye, Captain,” the helmsman replied and entered commands.

  “All hands,” the PA blared, “prepare for high-gravity acceleration! In three…two…one.” The fusion reactor’s burning heart was channeled through the reaction chambers, and mass was added. The matter was subjected to plasma as hot as a star and sent out the ship’s super-dense engines with incredible force. Nearly 80,000 tons of warship surged forward, dancing on a star.

  * * *

  “The enemy ship has begun boosting at three gravities,” SitCon announced. Captain Geshakooka was not as fast in responding as he’d been a short time ago. He wasn’t a young nymph, and six gravities was telling. It took him a moment to recognize the report and devise a reply.

  “Predicted intercept?” he asked.

  “Less than one hour before they reach the stargate.” Geshakooka ground his radula in frustration, then used his pinplant to contact the ship’s chief medical officer.

  “Yes, Captain?” the medical officer replied.

  “What is the condition of the crew?”

  “They are tolerating the strain.”

  “Can they tolerate another G?”

  “For how long?”

  “Several hours,” the captain said.

  “That would likely be injurious to many,” the doctor said.

  “Understood,” the captain said and severed the connection.

  “Orders, Captain?” the helmsman asked.

  “Maintain course and acceleration,” he said.

  * * *

  “They have not increased their acceleration,” Flipper confirmed.

  “We’re going to be really moving when we hit the stargate,” Chug said.

  “Can you thread the needle again, like in Sulaadar?” Alexis asked.

  “I’m going to do my best, Captain,” he said.

  “”

  “Make sure no one knows,” Alexis replied through her pinplants.

  “”

  “I’m aware of that,” she said, “but for now keep it under wraps.” She changed to audible commands. “SitCon, will they make weapons range before we reach the stargate?”

  “Affirmative,” Glick replied immediately. “Edwards and I agree the lead ship is likely the Yushispa, the Bakulu cruiser we faced in Sulaadar.”

  “The Bakulu aren’t ones to hold a grudge,” Alexis noted. Glick and Chug each glanced at her with an eyestalk.

  “Do you know what’s going on?” Paka asked. “Why is a Bakulu cruiser hunting us?”

  “Later,” Alexis said, ending the discussion, although Paka looked at her curiously for several long moments.

  “If that is the Yushispa,” Glick continued, “it will be in weapons range an hour before we reach the stargate and make transition.”

  “Then we need to give them something else to shoot at,” Alexis said. “Drone Control, I have a mission for you.”

  * * *

  Rick wasn’t thrilled with his tasking. Pegasus’ crew had assigned duties they carried out during combat actions, which meant the marines covered a lot of the unassigned jobs from damage control to grunt work, like moving ordinance and parts.

  “Sometimes it doesn’t pay to be Human!” Private Alvarado laughed next to him. Rick grunted in reply. He was enjoying the chance to work in his new Mk 8 CASPer, sure, but with the warship under three gravities of acceleration it meant only a few races could move around and work. Only the Oogar and Humans in CASPers could do any real lifting. Right now, it was taking almost all his concentration to maneuver the crate between himself and Alvarado.

  “You Humans are so puny!” one of the two Oogar from Zenith Squad said in a reasonable approximation of a snort, making his buddy who held the other half of their crate roar with laughter. Rick bit back what he was going to say. Coming from a world with more than two gravities, the big purple bears
already had a huge advantage in these situations. Alvarado was less accommodating toward his alien marine comrades. As they turned the corner of the gangway between Decks 24 and 23, he freed his hand long enough to flip a middle finger at the Oogar. The two ursoids laughed even harder, confirming the aliens had worked around Humans before.

  “Tell me again why we can’t use the lifts?” Rick huffed. Despite the enhancements of the suit, his body was still under the assault of triple its normal weight. It hurt to breath, and he was carrying a half-ton crate up a ramp.

  “Too dangerous,” Kleena, head armorer and leader of the scientific Geek Squad, said. He rode on the crate, watching the Humans work. The little elSha weighed less than 50 pounds in a standard gravity; considering the bulk of the crate, the little reptilian didn’t amount to much extra mass. As a species, the elSha seemed to tolerate higher gravities fairly well. “The lifts are locked above two gravities,” Kleena explained. “Imagine what would happen if one failed on an upper deck under this kind of acceleration?”

  Rick thought about it. The exercise gave him something to help him forget the physical strain his body was under. The elevators were in shafts that ran almost the entire length of the ship. If one broke loose up by Deck Two (its highest point), it would be going a couple hundred feet per second when it reached the end of its travel.

  “Like a bomb,” Rick said between panting breaths, “when it hits the bottom.”

  “Exactly,” Kleena said. “The mechanism can handle up to five gravities, but better safe than sorry.”

  The two teams reached the top of the gangway where it opened into Deck 23. This deck, like the two above it, was only split into two compartments and was full of maintenance machinery, parts, work areas, and a few partial or complete small craft. This was the lower area of flight operations, and as high as they had to move their crates. A Jeha, low to the deck and moving on hundreds of legs, undulated over to them. Its carapace was painted in red and yellow stripes, a sign it worked in the drone and weapons sections.

 

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