by Mark Wandrey
“You were just up-ship, weren’t you?” Lynn asked, changing the subject. Rick nodded. “You hear anything about what’s going on?”
“No,” he admitted, “nothing. After we delivered the weird drones to the hangar deck, I took these dead robots up to 18, and Kleena stole a ride on my back without my knowing it.” He thought for a second. “Why, what’s so weird? I heard the Hussars fight a lot.”
“Not at Karma,” Lynn said, to which all those with heads nodded in agreement.
“You don’t go firing the spinal mount in the Karma system,” Johansson added.
“Too many others here, and you might hit the wrong someone,” Jeejee agreed, then used his little hands to make an exploding gesture, punctuated with a “Blooey!” sound. Rick could see how that made sense.
“So, we’re running?” he asked.
“I’d say it’s a strategic withdrawal,” the sergeant said, and several of the others chuckled. “The captain never backs down from a fight,” she added seriously.
“Just ask those Maki ships,” Zit said, his translator managing to convey a certain grim satisfaction. Rick had heard about that fight, and how Pegasus had shot the shit out of several Maki ships on the way out of Sulaadar, as well as a couple of Bakulu. The scuttlebutt was the ships after them were either Bakulu or Maki.
“You see anything in drone control?” Jeejee asked out of the blue. Rick looked at the small alien. He couldn’t help but think of a cartoon he’d seen once about three chipmunks always getting in trouble. He’d seen that as a kid with someone. There was yet another hole in his life. Rick shook his head and tried to answer the Flatar.
“I saw the drone controller.” Once again, he had the attention of the marines who’d been aboard before he came on.
“Oh?” Zit asked. “You know what they call the drone controller?”
“Who’s they?” Rick wondered.
“The crew up in that area.”
“Okay,” Rick said, “I’ll bite. What do they call him?”
“The Ghost,” Sergeant T’jto said, spoiling Zit’s fun. The Goka’s tiny head turned slightly, regarding his sergeant. Rick wondered if that was the cockroach equivalent of the stink eye. “Apparently, the Ghost has been on the ship since the Hussars found the vessel a hundred years ago.”
The alarm sounded again; they were about to transition. “This Ghost, is it from the original crew?” Several of the marines shrugged, T’jto among them. “Is it alien? Is it Human?”
“No one knows,” T’jto finally said. The final alarm sounded, and everyone prepared.
“It is one of the mysteries of life,” Oort said, the first time the Tortantula had spoken. The seconds ticked away.
* * *
“Reactor Three at 100 percent,” Long said from engineering; “all hyperspace nodes are functioning nominally. Reactor Two is idle and primed. Standing by.”
“Here we go,” Chug said as he fed the final details into the navigational computer. The Bakulu helmsman knew the ship could do what they were about to do; he’d done it many times. He just didn’t know how it was capable. He would really have liked to.
On the big Tri-V display, the mile-wide ring of asteroids that made up the Karma system stargate was racing at them with incredible speed. In only seconds, it went from a tiny glowing spot to a rapidly expanding form with shape and definition. This was the second time in as many transitions that Pegasus was going to shoot the ring at an incredibly high speed. Alexis’ face cracked into a little grin, and she shook her head slightly as she thought about how the Lords of the Rings would be annoyed by this.
They were still thousands of miles away when the stargate shimmered to life, and all the waiting starships moved through into hyperspace. Her smile compressed into a tight line as she realized how far off they were going to be.
“Stargate closing in 10 seconds,” Hoot said, relaying the transmitted details from the stargate’s controllers. Alexis knew that instruments on the stargate’s control center would see the battlecruiser racing toward the ring at a couple hundred thousand miles per hour, and know they weren’t going to make it. Seconds passed.
“Stargate in 10 seconds,” Chug said, “nine, eight, seven…”
“Reactor Two to full power!” Alexis ordered.
Down in engineering, Long looked at the status board and its 70 little status lights for the containment buffers of Reactor Two. Nine of them glowed yellow, instead of green. He clicked his mandibles together and reached a delicate claw to slide the power control for the damaged reactor from “STANDBY” to “FULL POWER.” Inside the machine, magnetic containment buffers surged and hydrogen poured into the hungry fusion reactor. The power status bar shot to just below its peak output, feeding another 28 terawatts of power into the warship’s systems.
The master alarm sounded, and one of the nine buffer status lights flashed red, indicating failure. Long held onto the console, ground his mandibles together, and prayed they didn’t lose anymore. A few feet away, a miniature star assailed the weakened containment field.
“Full power on Reactor Two!” Guylan announced. He normally only concerned himself with damage control, but since the ship was in such a sorry state, he was helping Long with engineering duties.
On the big Tri-V, the stargate shimmered and shut down as they hurtled toward the center. At that point, everything happened quickly.
Reactor Two’s entire power output was channeled along the same conduits that fed the hyperspace nodes, sending more than twice the power that would have been needed to operate them. At the same instant, a command was sent to the nodes at the front of Pegasus. Nine of them around the nose of the warship extended, and opened like flowers, all aimed ahead of the ship. For an instant, those nodes transformed into shunts and all the extra power was channeled against the barriers between dimensions. The hyperspace shunts discharged.
A few hundred feet in front of Pegasus, a stargate almost exactly the size of the battlecruiser snapped to life. The ship shot through the gate and disappeared into hyperspace, and the gate instantly disappeared behind it. The whole chain of events took less than a second.
As soon as the shunts had discharged, they immediately reverted to nodes, and the power level was decreased back to nominal. Pegasus was in hyperspace.
“Powering back Reactor Two,” Guylan said.
“That worked okay,” Alexis said.
Guylan looked up at her. “We lost two buffers,” he said, and a small Tri-V showed the reactor status board. The 70 buffers were like a ring around the reactor, and one pie-shaped wedge had nine discolored magnetic containment buffers. Two of them were now flashing red.
“Well, we shouldn’t need the reactor again,” Alexis said. “However, keep it on-line while Reactor One’s repairs are completed. For the next 170 hours, we need the backup.” Guylan spoke to his counterpart in engineering for a moment.
“Long says that should be okay. However, he reminded the captain that if we lose three more buffers, Reactor Two could have a containment failure.”
* * *
Geshakooka watched his prey disappear from Karma without comment. His cruiser was in no shape to do anything about it. They were back under nominal power, though only just, and braking as best they could. The helmsman had altered their course enough so they wouldn’t slam into the stargate. That was something.
He was still stinging from the second spanking administered by the Winged Hussars in as many weeks. Quigg du Snoo was considered an elite space-based merc company. Being so handily worked over wasn’t something Geshakooka took well. He was mad, and he didn’t like being mad.
“One overpowered cruiser,” he said as he floated in his command station, watching the Tri-V listing repairs underway and those that wouldn’t be possible outside of drydock. He could easily have jetted over and stuck to the deck, but floating helped him think. Just one ancient cruiser, and he’d lost one of his own cruisers and had an escort mauled. He’d also come within a fraction of a second of
meeting the same fate as the lost cruiser.
“Captain,” the sensor officer said, “I have something for you to see.” Geshakooka extended his third eye and turned them all toward the Tri-V. It was showing a loop of the enemy ship making its escape.
“I could do without watching it again,” the captain said.
“I apologize, Captain, but I believe this is important.”
“Then explain what I am seeing.”
“As you order.” The technician manipulated the image backward. The Yushispa’s cameras were watching the enemy ship, though you could still see the stargate behind it. The discontinuity formed and tiny spots moved into it, the other ships. They’d no doubt hurried through, being more than keenly aware of the battle rapidly approaching. He continued to watch, the action happening incredibly fast. There was a swirling flash, and Pegasus was gone. “Did you see it?” the technician asked.
“I saw the enemy ship disappear, yes.” The tech looked back with one eyestalk and waved it in annoyance.
“No, watch again. I will slow it.” The scene replayed as the captain, quickly losing patience with the junior technician, forced himself to watch one more time. As Pegasus disappeared, he saw something.
“What was that?” he asked.
“You saw it?” the technician asked.
“Once again,” he ordered, “even slower this time.” It played for a third time. Pegasus approached the stargate. It shimmered, and he saw black stars for an instant, and then the enemy ship disappeared. “What am I seeing?” he asked the technician.
“The enemy ship has hyperspace shunts,” the technician said confidently. Geshakooka shook all three eyestalks in denial. A warship, with shunts? A small warship, too? There were warships with hyperspace shunts, and they were incredibly rare. It took an immense amount of power to fire shunts, more than it took to operate nodes. Who would be crazy enough to put that much power on a ship that small? Then he thought, the same ones crazy enough to put a spinal mount on a ship that small, that’s who. Suddenly the prowess of the Winged Hussars made a little more sense. It always helped to have a secret ability in a battle, and that was one hell of a secret.
“Excellent job,” he complemented the technician, who nodded his eyestalks in gratitude. Geshakooka made a mental note to update the technician’s file with a commendation. The moment of the enemy ship’s transition into hyperspace via shunts was less than a second. Very few would have noticed it. “Damage control, estimated time to repair the reactor?”
“Five hours.”
The helmsman had already plotted the course to decelerate and come around to the stargate again, which was scheduled to activate in eleven hours. He didn’t have authorization from his company to make an unscheduled transition, which would have cost hundreds of thousands of credits. It was only four hours between the time they’d arrive back at the stargate and the next transition; he could wait that long. Plus, they could complete more repairs in the additional time. The 170 hours in hyperspace would likewise prove useful.
“Communications, schedule our transition for the next stargate opening. We will resume pursuit at that time.” Armed with the additional information, Geshakooka had no intention of being caught off guard again.
“Are we certain of their destination?” the helmsman asked.
“We have intel from our contacts on Karma,” the captain assured him; “we will proceed on that information.” The captain began working on a battle plan.
* * *
Once they were safely in hyperspace, and the ship was secured from Condition One, Alexis dismissed the combat crew and shut down the CIC. Reactor watch teams would keep the ship safely in hyperspace, and the computer would monitor other conditions. If anything warranted it, the CIC could be staffed in minutes. Nothing happened in hyperspace that required the command crew.
“Everyone is off duty,” she told them. “Get a meal, get a few hours’ sleep, and we’ll meet in my wardroom with all department heads in six hours.” They acknowledged and dispersed. In a minute, it was just Alexis and her XO. “Paka, get some rest.”
“Yes, Captain,” the Veetanho said, but she hesitated.
“I mean it. We’re heading into a shit storm, and there’s a lot to get ready for.” Paka nodded. “I’m going to sleep a few hours in my wardroom.” Paka gave her a knowing look, then slowly floated out, leaving her commander alone
Alexis hovered there for an indeterminate period. The CIC command stations were all virtual; any one could be used for any function. Once an operator logged out, a series of colored lights indicated that station’s readiness to accept input. With her crew gone, the CIC was mostly dark except for intermittent flashing indicators. She knew there would be the never-ending vibration of the ship’s reactors, pumping energy to the nodes to keep them in hyperspace, and she could feel the gentle kiss of air being moved by the life support system. Unmanned, like it was at that moment, the nerve center of the powerful ancient warship was a beautiful thing. Almost a work of art, which at a simple touch could transform into an instrument of destruction. The particle accelerator spinal mount could, at full power, carve a city from the surface of a planet like a child scooping up a sandcastle on the beach.
Pegasus was more to her than a ship. Much, much more. It was the heart and soul of the Winged Hussars. Without it, they would never have survived the Alpha Contracts. Without it, they wouldn’t have found their home. Without it, her sister might…
Alexis pushed off toward her stateroom to get some rest.
* * * * *
Interlude
20 Years Ago
Stargate Highguard
Theel System
The simplest missions were always the most dangerous. Alexis remembered her mother drilling that into her head. She had always considered it crazy. Until now.
“Another spread of missiles!” SitCon yelled.
“Roll her to match strong shields,” Alexis ordered.
“On it,” TacCom replied. Everyone in the CIC hung on as the ship spun, and the point-defense lasers blazed away.
“Communications,” Alexis said, “order Biter to break off and try to flank. See if she can get the bastard to come about and stop concentrating its fire on us.”
“Aye-aye,” the comms officer replied. On the big Tri-V, her squadron was deployed in highguard, interdicting the stargate. The Zuul raiding party had snuck in weeks ago and quietly waited until the perfect moment, when the Maki fleet was rotating out, for their raid. The Izlian who controlled the Theel system were pissed. The Zuul had cleaned out two mining depots in the extensive asteroid belt and were now trying to punch their way out of the system. Alexis had her first squadron command, the cruiser War Admiral and three frigates who rode on her hull to fight detached, Mercy, Biter, and Manx.
“This defensive contract with the Izlian should be fairly simple and routine,” her mother had said. “This is a good chance for you and your sister to have independent commands.” The twins had flipped for overall command, and Alexis won. Katrina’s squadron had been monitoring the emergence point, lest additional Zuul make an appearance. The raid appeared to be a stealth operation, and Alexis was prepared to stop them from getting away.
“Won’t be too hard,” she’d assured her sister who wanted to come and help. The other twin was angry at missing their first real fight. “Probably a couple of frigates, maybe a light cruiser. The Zuul don’t like to run hot.”
The Zuul didn’t normally use large ships, as Alexis had said. They liked their ships fast and light. Shoot, hit, and get out was their favorite tactic, as was evidenced by the ships that had escorted the freighters which had cleaned out the depots. However, the Bakulu battlecruiser that came to break the highguard was a nasty surprise. It was a missile-packing beast twice the size of Alexis’ Crown-class cruiser.
Several of the most recent wave of missiles from the enemy battlecruiser split their targeting. The ones that went for War Admiral were destroyed by point-defense fire, but the ones
that cut away all scored. Alexis cringed.
“Manx has taken three direct hits from ship-killer missiles,” SitCon reported.
“She’s lost drive, shields are down,” TacCom said. Alexis cringed. Manx had a crew of 29.
“Helm, move us to cover Manx!” The ship began a high-gravity turn to intercede between the battlecruiser and their crippled frigate. “TacCom, give me a pinpoint particle cannon firing solution on the battlecruiser’s drives!”
“Working,” the tactical commander said.
“They’re launching more missiles,” SitCon warned. “Biter reports they have a flanking position.”
“Have them fire all their tubes at the damned ship! Do you have that firing solution?”
“As good as we can get,” TacCom replied.
“Fire to match Biter’s barrage arrival!”
The seconds ticked by as a wave of missiles raced toward the disabled Manx. Alexis just managed to get in the way, but that meant they bore the full brunt of the 20 ship-killer missiles. This time their lasers only stopped fifteen. Just as the missiles exploded in a chain across War Admiral’s hull, the battlecruiser pumped a barrage of four 500-megawatt particle beams into her.
“Forward and amidships lateral shield failure!” SitCon warned.
“Helm, rotate.”
“Can’t,” TacCom overrode. “Firing in 10 seconds as ordered.”
“We’re going to eat some energy,” SitCon warned.
“Noted,” Alexis said and chewed her lip. The count wound down as their coordinated attack time raced against the enemy battlecruiser’s particle cannon recharge rate.
