by Brown, Ryk
“Not with rail guns she’s not,” Nathan insisted. “The heat from our drive will melt her rounds before they even touch us. She’s aiming for our stern guns. If she can take them out, she’s got a better chance at putting a missile up our ass.”
“Ten seconds until she finishes her turn.”
“Range?” Nathan asked.
“Three point five kilometers and still increasing slowly,” Mister Navashee answered.
“Helm, reverse your turn and roll one eighty to port. Let’s show her our topside this time so we can bring more guns onto her.”
“Coming hard to port and rolling one-eighty, aye,” the helmsman answered.
“Mister Willard, anything you can do to keep her from targeting us?” Nathan asked.
“No, sir. The Avendahl’s missiles are internally guided. I can try to jam their tracking systems, but as quickly as they reach us, I doubt I’ll have much luck. They’re not doing much maneuvering on their way over.”
“We’re crossing her bow,” Mister Navashee reported. “She’s firing again. Four more inbound; twenty-five seconds out.”
“Is it just me, or do those seem like awfully slow missiles?” Nathan wondered.
“The battleships use larger, longer-range missiles,” Mister Randeen explained. “They take longer to accelerate than the short-range missiles. It does make them easier to intercept at this distance.”
“Ours are short-range, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then shouldn’t we be firing them?”
“Yes, sir,” Mister Randeen acknowledged. “Firing four.”
“Ten seconds to enemy missile impact,” Mister Navashee reported. “Two still inbound.”
“Three down,” Mister Randeen reported. “Fourth missile is still coming. Impact in five seconds.”
“All hands, brace for impact!” Nathan ordered.
Naralena repeated the captain’s warning ship-wide. A second later, the missile struck the Aurora.
“Hull breach, main drive, just aft of reactor four!” Mister Randeen reported as he held onto the tactical console to brace himself against the force of the missile impact as it reverberated throughout the ship.
“Range from the Avendahl?”
“Four kilometers, sir.”
“Are we still gaining ground?” Nathan asked, surprised that they were not yet to a safe jump range.
“No, sir, range is decreasing.”
“What?” Nathan couldn’t believe it. A ship that large should not be able to keep up with the Aurora. After all, the Avendahl was more than four times their size with considerably more mass.
“It’s down to three point nine five kilometers and falling,” Mister Navashee reported, double-checking his readings. “If it continues to fall at this rate…”
“Fire in pump room four!” Mister Randeen reported.
“Damage Control! Captain!” Nathan called over the comm-set. “What’s our status?”
“We’ve got an out of control fire in the number four propellant pump room!” Master Chief Montrose answered over the comm-set. “We need to clear everyone out so we can vent the section to space!”
“How much time?”
“One minute!” The master chief answered.
“Too long!”
“It would help if we could shutdown the pump.”
“Negative, Master Chief,” Nathan told him. “We can’t afford to lose any more propulsion. The Avendahl’s gaining on us as it is.”
“Captain…”
“Vent it now, COB. That’s an order!” Nathan yelled.
“Aye, sir,” the master chief answered, clicking off his comm-set.
“Showing a twenty percent drop in output on pump four,” Mister Chiles reported.
“The pump is overheating, Captain,” Mister Riley added.
“Range from Avendahl is three point eight five kilometers and falling,” Mister Navashee reported.
“Thirty percent drop,” Mister Chiles continued.
“Come on, COB,” Nathan mumbled.
“Range is three point six five.”
“Atmospheric pressure in pump room four is falling,” Mister Randeen reported. “The whole section is depressurizing.”
Nathan could feel his heart sink. Along with the fire in the pump room, men were dying in the back of his ship, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Holding at thirty percent.”
“Range at three point four five.”
“Fire is out, sir. Zero pressure.”
“Pump four output increasing. Seventy-five percent. Eighty percent. Eighty-five.” Mister Chiles turned and looked at the captain. “Holding at eight-five, sir.”
“The pump must have been damaged by the heat,” Mister Riley stated.
“Range to Avendahl?” Nathan asked.
“Three point three and falling slowly,” Mister Navashee reported. “At our current closure rate, we’ll be too close to defend against her missiles in fifteen minutes.”
“Captain, I’ve fired three rounds of missiles so far. None of them have gotten through,” Mister Randeen reported. “The Avendahl’s point-defense systems are just too good. Shall I continue firing?”
“Stand by,” Nathan ordered. “Are we still on course for Takara?” he asked the navigator.
“Roughly, yes,” Mister Riley answered.
“She’s firing missiles again, Captain,” Mister Navashee announced.
“Point-defense, Mister Randeen,” Nathan ordered solemnly.
“Aye, sir, but we’re down to two hundred thousand rounds.”
“That’s good for maybe three more volleys,” Nathan surmised.
“By that time, we’ll be close enough for them to finish us off with torpedoes.”
“Why haven’t they used their energy weapons?” Nathan wondered.
“They may not be hooked into the ZPED power systems yet,” Mister Willard speculated.
“All four missiles intercepted,” Mister Randeen reported. “Down to one fifty.”
“Contact!” Mister Navashee reported. “It’s the Falcon.”
“Receiving data stream,” Naralena announced. Her face turned grim. “Sir, the staging area in Answari was overrun by Ghatazhak forces. At the request of Captain Waddell, Major Prechitt and his squadron dumped their ordnance directly on the staging area.”
“Any survivors?” Nathan asked in shock.
“Unknown, sir.”
“Any word from Lieutenant Commander Nash or the Karuzari?”
“No, sir,” Naralena answered. “The Falcon is asking if they can be of assistance.”
“Warn them to keep their distance. We don’t need them getting caught up in here as well.”
“Target is firing again. Four inbound.”
“Helm, reverse your turn and roll to starboard,” Nathan ordered, hoping to buy a few extra seconds for his point-defense systems to intercept the incoming missiles by forcing them to turn hard as well.
“Hard to starboard and rolling,” Mister Chiles answered as the Aurora rolled to her right and reversed her turn.
Nathan concentrated on his situation. His ship was damaged, but still able to fight. The Avendahl was closing on him and would be able to take him out in no more than fifteen minutes, if not sooner. If he straightened out to line up his tubes to fire his simple line-of-sight torpedoes, he would just draw the enemy closer still. His ground forces had been overrun, and the status of the insertion team responsible for capturing the emperor was unknown. If he failed to destroy the Avendahl and Caius was removed from power, there was no telling what the Avendahl’s captain would do with such a superior weapon at his disposal. At the very least, if he destroyed the Avendahl, even if the emperor remained in power, the Corinairans might stand a chance. After all, they had the jump drive technology, the Takaran fabrication systems, and even several months to use them to develop a defense against the battle group that was en route to the Darvano system at that very moment. Even if the Aurora did
not survive the battle, destroying the Avendahl was the only safe option.
“Twenty seconds to missile impact,” Mister Navashee reported.
“Point-defense is firing,” Mister Randeen announced.
“Mister Willard,” Nathan began, “do we still have the Yamaro’s transponder?”
“One missile down,” Mister Randeen reported.
“Yes, sir,” Mister Willard answered, “but it is no longer connected to the Aurora’s comm-array. We rigged it with a battery and its own mini dish when we used it to add a message to the comm-drone from the Savoy system.”
“Two down.”
“Where is it?” Nathan asked.
“It’s still in the shop at the aft end of the starboard fighter alley.”
“How long will it take to reconnect it?” Nathan asked.
“Three down.”
“There is no need,” Mister Willard assured him. “Simply turn it on and place it on the flight apron. The signal is more than strong enough to provide a tracking signal for the KKVs.”
“All four missiles intercepted. Down to one hundred thousand rounds, sir.”
“Very well,” Nathan acknowledged, his attention still on Mister Willard. “What’s the flight time for the KKVs to here, at top speed?”
“From the closest KKV platform, about eight minutes, sir.”
“How long to prepare the strike code?”
“A few minutes, sir.”
“Do it,” Nathan ordered.
“How many?”
“All eight,” Nathan answered. “Three hundred meter spread, two rows of four. We can’t afford to miss.”
“Yes, sir,” Mister Willard acknowledged.
“And get someone on that transponder,” Nathan added.
“Yes, sir.”
“Captain?” Mister Randeen began, albeit without much vigor. “Is there no other way?”
“I’m afraid not, Mister Randeen,” Nathan answered. “That ship must be destroyed at all costs. That includes us.” Nathan stood up and straightened his uniform shirt. “Gentlemen, we will have to maintain the battle for nearly ten minutes. During that time, we must convince the Avendahl that we are doing everything within our power to destroy her. She will not follow us blindly to her doom. She has to believe that she is only moments from destroying us, all the way up to the last moment. Helm, you will continue a series of sudden changes in direction, maintaining maximum power throughout. Tactical, whenever we reverse our turn, you’ll have a moment when you can fire torpedoes as our tubes line up briefly. It isn’t going to be easy, but it’s better to fire and miss than to die with a bay full of unused weapons. Maintain point-defense as needed until we run out of rounds, then switch to slugs and do what you can. And feel free to continuously fire missiles at her as well.”
Nathan paused for a moment. “Comms, patch me through to the Falcon.”
“Yes, sir,” Naralena answered. “Channel open.”
“Falcon, Captain Scott.”
“Captain Scott, go for Falcon,” Loki’s voice answered over the comm-set.
“Guys, in a few moments you’re going to receive the strike code for the KKVs. You are to jump out to the platform and transmit the package, then return to verify the launch time. After that, I need you to notify the C2 of the situation. We’ll draw the KKVs in with the Yamaro’s transponder, just like we did with the Wallach. We’ll try to get out of the way before it’s too late, but without the jump drive, that’s unlikely.”
“Captain, let us take the transponder in,” Josh suggested.
“Someone has to get the launch code out to the platform, and our jump drive is offline,” Nathan explained. “I appreciate the offer, Josh, but I’ve got another mission in mind for you. After this is over, I need you and Loki to try to reach Earth. Theoretically, you should be able to make a thousand little jumps to get there. Tell them what happened out here. Tell them that the jump drive works. Give them the technology of the Pentaurus cluster so they can defend themselves against the Jung.” Nathan waited for a response from Josh for nearly thirty seconds. “Josh?”
“We’ll get it done, sir,” Loki responded.
“The strike code is ready, sir.”
“Transmit the package to the Falcon.”
Nathan took a deep breath.
“Strike package received,” Loki announced.
“Don’t let me down, guys,” Nathan told them.
“We won’t sir,” Loki answered. “Good hunting.”
For a ship that was in the midst of a battle, the bridge seemed oddly quiet for a moment.
“The Falcon has jumped away, sir,” Mister Navashee reported.
“Then let’s get to work, gentlemen. Stand by on tubes one and two, Mister Randeen.”
* * *
“C2, Falcon,” Loki called over the comms.
“Falcon, go for C2,” Cameron answered.
“C2, Falcon. The Aurora is using the KKVs. We just transmitted the launch package. She’s going to act as decoy again, just like with the Wallach.”
“Things must be pretty bad,” Cameron commented to Ensign Yosef.
“Falcon, C2. Are they using the Yamaro’s transponder again?”
“Affirmative,” Loki answered.
“Why didn’t they assign you as decoy?” Cameron asked. “You’re much faster and a lot harder for the Avendahl’s guns to hit.”
“I know. We suggested that,” Loki explained, “but the Aurora’s stuck about three clicks away from the Avendahl and can’t escape.”
“What? Why not?”
“Something about the Avendahl’s ZPED is interfering with their jump drive fields.”
“Can’t they outrun her using the sub-light drive?”
“They were, but something was holding them back. Just before they were about to get far enough away to jump, they took a hit and lost some propulsion. They’ve been losing distance steadily since. The Captain’s trying to lure in the KKVs before he gets so close that the Avendahl tears him apart.”
“Shit,” Cameron muttered to herself. She took a moment to compose her thoughts. “Any word from the Karuzari?”
“Negative, we were hoping you had heard something.”
“Nothing since you last updated us,” Cameron assured him. “Damn it!” Cameron’s mind was spinning. Everything about their plan seemed to be coming apart. Her only hope was that the battle of Answari was not yet lost.
“Sir?” Loki called. “He made us promise to jump all the way to Earth to tell them what happened and share our technology with them,” he explained solemnly.
“Don’t worry, Loki,” Cameron told him. “You’ll get your chance. I promise, no matter how this all turns out, the word will get back to Earth.”
“Yes, sir.”
Cameron took a deep breath. “Falcon, C2. New orders. Jump back to Takara and monitor the situation. Attempt to make contact with ground forces and the insertion team, then report back.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And send a jump shuttle back here to us just in case. We don’t want to be left stranded out here if everything goes to hell.”
“Yes, sir. Falcon out.”
Cameron stared long and hard at the holo-map hovering above her plotting table. With the Aurora sacrificing herself to ensure the destruction of the Avendahl, it was going to be a long time before any of them got back to Earth. And if Tug’s insertion team failed, they were going to have to find some way to defend Corinair. Despite her belief that Nathan had made the right decision in forming the Alliance, she was starting to believe that taking a jump shuttle and making a thousand short jumps to get home might be the best course of action.
* * *
Caius and his guards strode quickly down the hallway, crossing the final corridor before entering the dimly lit safe room. “If the attack follows us, seal this door!” the emperor bellowed as he entered the chamber.
Two of the six guards accompanying him stopped and took up positions on either side of the doorwa
y, facing out, their backs to the safe room.
“How did those people get past security?!” the emperor yelled at the leader of his guard detail.
“I do not know, sire,” the guard responded respectfully.
“And how did a thousand Corinari get into Answari? I suppose it was that magical disappearing ship from Earth the Admiralty was rambling on about. The very idea is preposterous. Those old fools are just worried that their fleet will be downsized now that the Karuzari are no longer…”
The emperor’s words were cut short by energy weapons fire from deeper within the chamber as Tug and his team came out of hiding. The guards quickly returned fire, stepping in front of the emperor to protect him from harm. The first two guards immediately fell, their wounds still sizzling from the energy weapons’ blasts. Three of the Karuzari fell as well, victim to the rapid-fire energy weapons carried by the emperor’s personal guards. The two guards at the door responded as well, moving to the sides to get a clear line of fire around the emperor. Weapons fire continued to fly for several more seconds until, finally, there were only four people standing.
“Stop where you are!” Tug ordered with more conviction than he had ever mustered in his long life.
Caius stopped just short of the exit, his back still to his attackers.
“Hands high!” Tug added. The emperor raised his hands above his shoulders, his red robes falling down his arms toward his torso. He waved his hands back and forth, spinning them from front to back to show that they were empty. “Do not shoot. I am not armed.” The emperor waited for a moment, half expecting to be shot in the back at any moment. When he realized that was not about to happen, he continued. “State your demands, and I will consider them.”
“We have no demands,” Tug began. “We are here to place you under arrest.”
“Under arrest?” Caius asked, turning slowly as his hands lowered a bit. “Are you mad? On what authority?” he laughed. “And for what charges?”
“For the crimes of genocide against the people of Corinair and Taroa, to start, and for the murder of your father, King Austyn of Takara…”
“Do I know you, sir?” Caius asked, squinting to see their faces through the shadows and the haze caused by the still burning tapestries and upholstery damaged by the energy weapons fire.
