End Run

by William R. Forstchen

  "We're here, Svetlana, just hang on. We're scrambling the Sabres in to pick up half your people, a landing craft is being turned around now for the rest."

  There was a pause on the other side.

  "Nice try, Tarawa, but I don't think so."

  "Just hang on, Svetlana."

  "Jason," and there was a pause for a moment. "Listen Jason, you're running the show now. A thousand people are counting on you to get them out. We're finished. Don't sacrifice yourselves to save us. I know what the score is and so do you. If you hang around now, you're all going to be lost. Get the hell out now!"

  "Shut up, Svetlana. We're coming in."

  "Colonel Merritt?"

  "Here, Svetlana."

  "What's the firing code?"

  Merritt closed his eyes and lowered his head.

  "Double Alpha, Fox, Tango, Three," he said, his voice low, barely audible.

  "Double Alpha, Fox, Tango, Three, copy that," Svetlana said quietly.

  Jason looked back at Merritt.

  "The matter/antimatter mines were rigged to fire on a one-hour delay so we were well clear," Merritt whispered. "They can also be fired manually."

  He looked straight into Jason's eyes.

  "I'm sorry son, but she's right. God help us all, but she's right."

  Jason turned back to the commlink which was again showing a wavery image.

  "Svetlana, don't. Wait, just wait."

  "Double Alpha, Fox, Tango, Three," she repeated. "Firing trigger is armed."

  "Svetlana!"

  She turned and looked back at the screen.

  "Jason, honey. Save your fleet. Maybe some other time, some other life, we'll see each other again. I've always loved you, Jason. I'll always be with you."

  "Svetlana! No!"

  The screen went blank.

  He looked up at the forward monitor as dozens of white snaps of light mushroomed across the screen.

  He stood in mute horror, watching as the explosions ripped the naval station apart, white hot walls of fire racing outward, mushrooming up into the sky.

  The control room was as quiet as a tomb, except for the steady chatter coming in from the other ships, and Doomsday's squadron, which was positioning to cover the Tarawa from the rear.

  Jason suddenly realized that all eyes were upon him.

  "Son."

  Jason looked over at Merritt who stood with tears in his eyes.

  "Son, you're the captain now."

  Jason nodded and walked over to the control display, trying to blink back the tears.

  "Holo tactical display," and the image came up and floated before him. The Kilrathi fighters were spreading out and the heavy capital ships were closing as well, two of them maneuvering to block the path to their intended retreat point.

  Though long-range scan was not yet back on-line he could surmise that an additional capital ship would be stationed directly at the jump point. With the condition Tarawa was already in, there was no hope of fighting through and at this point, even if they did make it to the jump point, there was no guarantee that the jump engine would work correctly. They were cut off. He had to do something else, and damned quickly.

  "Pull up a map of this system," Jason said quietly, and the image appeared alongside that of the tactical. He studied it intently for several seconds. He traced out a line with a laser pointer and then looked over at the computer nav system which automatically took his course plot and changed it into a heading while compensating for the gravitational effect of the moon, and all the other planets in the system.

  "Helm officer, bring us around to a heading of 331.3 by negative one degree to solar axis standard. Engine room, let's see what you've got. Signal our intended path to our escorts and the Sabres. Close down the ram scoops ninety-five percent for full acceleration. Let's get the hell out of here," and he felt his voice start to quaver.

  He looked over at his staff who looked at him in confusion over his command, which was heading them nowhere near a jump point and then they leaped to work.

  Jason looked around the room, feeling the ship start to shudder as she turned and powered up full afterburners.

  "Tarawa, what the hell is this heading?" Grierson shouted, coming back on the commlink. "You're taking us straight into the willywacks and no jump point is in sight!"

  "All points are undoubtedly covered by now," Jason said quietly. "We're going straight for the gas giant, where they have an orbital base. Most likely all their fighters have been expended."

  "So big deal, we smash a lousy base, then what?"

  "We need time for repairs," Jason announced, "our shield generator's still out, jump engine is doubtful and all our wiring is shot to hell. We need some time."

  Grierson suddenly smiled.

  "OK, Tarawa, we're with you."

  The rearmed fighters aboard Tarawa sortied back out, forming a protective screen to the rear of the ship as it climbed up and away from the Kilrah system.

  "We've got a long run," Jason said quietly and he went over to the deck officer's chair and settled down.

  By the end of the first hour a steady battle was being waged a thousand kilometers astern of the Tarawa as Starlight and Doomsday struggled to keep successive waves of faster enemy fighters and strike craft from closing in to engage their crippled carrier. Another Sabre went down, along with two more fighters and three Ferrets which were going head-to-head with Grikath and Jalkehi fighters, in exchange for a dozen enemy fighters and a single torpedo hit to a Kilrathi destroyer which forced it to drop out of the chase.

  By the third hour of the long stern chase Intrepid and Kagimasha were trading long range volleys and launching torpedo spreads against the enemy Ralatha destroyers, one of which seemed to carry an improved engine system that enabled it to afterburner up to a dozen clicks a second faster than Tarawa. With ram scoops almost fully retracted, speeds went up past six thousand clicks a second.

  Throughout the chase Jason sat in silence, occasionally issuing a terse command, but saying nothing more. Fighters, short of ammunition and fuel, would break off and sweep back in for refitting and sortie back out. Jason watched the pilots who did not even bother to climb out of their cockpits, and saw their pale, sweat-streaked faces, lined with fatigue.

  "Enemy base orbiting the gas giant is now within five hundred thousand kilometers and closing," his combat information officer announced and he finally stirred.

  "Any fighter activity?"

  "You guessed right, sir, they shot their whole wad trying to get us. She's defenseless except for her guns."

  "Signal Intrepid and Kagvmasha to take her out and then form back on Tarawa. Order all ships to extend ram scoops for additional braking maneuver and hang on!"

  Though the damage control crew had been working on the inertial dampening system, main priority was still on the jump engine and shields. The delay was down to a hundred thousandth of a second but when the energy field of the ram scoops was suddenly extended back out, the ship felt as if it were being torn apart as it went into a thirty gee deceleration.

  The Intrepid shot past, diving in towards the station which sent up a spray of neutron rounds. A volley of torpedoes dropped out of the destroyer and the enemy station disappeared.

  "Helm, take us straight through the blast and then snag us in tight to orbit around the planet."

  "Captain, just what the hell are we doing now?" Merritt, who had stood by his side throughout, finally asked.

  "You'll see."

  The expanding cloud of debris seemed to race up and Jason winced as fragments of the shattered base slammed against the durasteel hull, the Tarawa groaning from the impact. The nose of Tarawa rose up, skimming just above the outer atmosphere of the giant.

  "All fighters recover now!" Jason shouted.

  "Say, Jason, did I hear you right?" Doomsday replied.

  "You heard me, get in now damn it!"

  "Copy that, Tarawa but those furballs will be on us."

  Jason leaned over and switched b
ack to Intrepid and Kagimasha.

  "You know the game, rendezvous at…" and he looked up at the clock on the wall, "… exactly thirty hours from now at 17:24 hours and be ready to haul ass."

  "Copy that Tarawa and good luck." Grierson said, grinning with delight.

  "Tarawa out."

  The first Ferret came in, followed at twenty-second intervals by the surviving recon and light fighter craft, and then the remaining Rapiers and Sabres followed suit while Janice circled outside, providing tight-in cover for the landing ships.

  "We've got a hell of a lot of incoming," the combat officer shouted.

  "Keep the fleas off our back," Jason said, toggling back over to his escort ships.

  Intrepid moved in directly behind, and Jason found that he was starting to drum the arm of his chair nervously.

  Half a dozen Grakhi bore straight in and slowed.

  "Torpedo attack imminent."

  A spread of torpedoes dropped out from each of the Kilrathi fighters.

  Jason turned and looked over at Merritt.

  "Still got any mines on board?"

  Merritt nodded. "A couple in each of the landing craft."

  "Set a landing craft on autopilot, and once we've recovered our last ship I want the mine activated and the landing ship out the airlock door on automatic pilot."

  "Got you," and Merritt dashed out of the room.

  On the downward looking screen Jason watched as the boiling upper atmosphere of the gas giant raced by, not ten kilometers below. The magnetic distortion created by the atmosphere made communication almost impossible with his escorts and he watched as they attempted to cover his stern.

  The six Kilrathi heavy fighters pulled up and away, their spread of torpedoes closing in. Jason heard the high-pitched ping of a solid guidance lock.

  The stern anti torpedo guns kicked on, attempting to gain a lock in turn, sending out a hail of mass driven shots and in turn the Kilrathi torpedoes popped out small bundles of chaff and signal distorters to throw the guns off. The anti torpedo missile mount on the bottom of the carrier launched a round, the missile streaking forward and then turning to race astern.

  Two of the torpedoes were detonated but four continued to bore in.

  "They've got definite lock," the combat information officer shouted. "Computer analysis estimates one will break through and hit in twenty seconds… fifteen."

  The collision alarm kicked on.

  The rear guns and firepower of the escorts crisscrossed space, knocking one, and then two more torpedoes down.

  "Impact in five, four…"

  "Oh Christ!" the officer screamed, and, stunned, he looked up at Jason.

  The torpedo disappeared in a flash, exploded by a Ferret which had dived straight into the weapon, detonating it just astern of Tarawa.

  Jason, unable to speak, looked up at the situation board and saw the status report for Janice's ship wink off.

  "She knew how to pick her death."

  Jason looked up at Doomsday who had just landed and had quietly watched the drama played out while standing in the corner of the room. "I'd have done the same, so would you."

  Jason felt as if he could not take it anymore. He closed his eyes.

  "Last fighter in."

  "Launch that landing craft and have it turn astern of us."

  "Landing craft on full autopilot and away."

  Merritt came back into the room and leaned over a comm channel and started to punch in a code. He stopped and looked over at Jason.

  "Escorts, you still copy."

  The two ships responded, voices and images distorted almost behind recognition due to the heavy magnetic field around the planet.

  "Initiate dive into the atmosphere on my count. Five, four, three, two, one."

  He looked over at Merritt and nodded and the marine colonel slammed down on the key. A heavy matter/antimatter mine detonated half a dozen clicks behind the fleet, directly between them and the Kilrathi's, blasting out an electro-magnetic pulse that overloaded all surveillance equipment.

  "Dive! Helm, point us straight in!"

  As the electro-magnetic pulse of the explosion mushroomed out behind them, the three ships pushed over and dived straight in on the gas giant, hitting the upper atmosphere. The Tarawa started to buffet and rock, and he could feel the ship twisting and straining beneath his feet.

  "Ten clicks into the atmosphere, twenty, fifty."

  He watched over the helmsman's shoulder as they continued to go deeper in, ordering a leveling out when they were a full five hundred clicks down into the storm of frozen ammonia and sulphur. The surviving external sensing systems were off-line, picking up nothing but clutter from the intense radiation, and magnetic storms sweeping the upper atmosphere of the planet.

  "Level us out, signal engine room, just enough power to maintain orbit."

  "Leveling out, sir; engine room reports throttling back to eighteen percent power."

  "Rig ship for silent running. No transmissions of any kind. Passive listening devices only."

  "Ship rigged for silent running."

  He looked over at the main screen of the combat information officer. It was awash with static. A ping line drifted across the screen and then another. The combat information officer looked back at him, her eyes wide.

  "They're sending out high energy microwave bursts, looking for us."

  "Well let 'em look," and Jason held his breath.

  The pinging moved on; they hadn't picked him up, and he slowly exhaled.

  "Ship's intercom."

  He picked up the microphone.

  "All hands. We've managed to elude the Kilrathi attack by diving into the upper atmosphere of a gas giant where their sensing devices can not find us due to atmospheric interference. As you can guess, any type of visual search is like looking for a feather in a blizzard. We will rendezvous with our escorts in a little less than thirty hours. In those thirty hours we are going to repair our ship and our damaged fighters and we are going to come back out kicking. Congratulations on a job well done."

  He lowered his head for a moment.

  "Merritt's marines smashed half a dozen carriers under construction and a hell of a lot of equipment. Our task force has downed over seventy enemy fighters, four corvettes, one orbital base, along with a number of probabilities and damaged. I'm proud of you, and the Confederation is proud of you. All damage control officers, weapons officers, and engineering officers report to the temporary bridge in one half hour. Thank you and keep it up, Tarawa. I'm damned proud to be part of this team."

  He clicked the intercom off, not even noticing the looks of pride in his staff.

  "I'm taking a half hour off," he said quietly. "Call me if anything comes up."

  He left the bridge and went into the tiny cubical that now served as his wardroom and closed the door. Jason lowered his head, covering his face with his hands, and wept.

  Prince Thrakhath turned away from the holo screen.

  "It won't be a pleasure reporting this to the Emperor," he said quietly, looking over at the Khantahr in direct command of his flagship.

  "Sire, might I remind you that you expected the enemy carrier to use the planet as a slingshot, that they would loop around and come straight back towards Kilrah, not to dive into its atmosphere."

  Prince Thrakhath looked at the Khantahr.

  "I admire courage, and I admire truth," he said. "You are right."

  The Khantahr visibly relaxed.

  "Is there a probability that they have gone around the far side of the planet, masked by the EMP of the antimatter explosion?"

  The Khantahr looked over to his executive officer in charge of navigation.

  "If so, they will emerge from under the south pole of the planet within the next ten minutes. If they should then choose to close ram scoops and go to full acceleration, they could leap ahead, perhaps even close on Kilrah before we can stand back to defend her."

  Prince Thrakhath looked over at the holo display as the naviga
tor plotted out a possible course.

  "Masterful maneuver. I expected them to dive straight back to Kilrah, to seek death while doing maximum damage, now that we have covered their probable exit jump point. Now I am not sure if they are hiding beneath us or at this very moment are circling around."

  He studied the screen intently.

  "Pull the carrier back to a high polar orbit around Kilrah. Detail the destroyers to orbit this planet and to try to pick up a trace if they are indeed down there. The cruisers and corvettes are to form a picket line between here and Kilrah. If they are going straight back now, I want to be ahead of them. If they are hiding below us, we'll wait them out. They'll have to come up sooner or later and when they do we'll finish them."

  The Khantahr nodded his agreement and left the room followed by his staff.

  The commlink on Prince Thrakhath's desk blinked.

  He looked over at it, noticing the bright yellow flash that meant it was a scrambled message from the Imperial Palace. He took a deep breath and punched down on the button.

  The image of the Emperor appeared in the middle of the room.

  "Yes, Grandfather."

  "The enemy carrier?"

  "We've lost it for the moment, sire. It has either dived into the atmosphere of Igrathi to hide, or even at this moment is circling around for a return attack. I am pulling back to cover Kilrah. If he is hiding, he'll have to come back up at some point, and then we will close for the kill."

  "I have seen the damage reports. I am not pleased."

  Prince Thrakhath was silent.

  "Six carriers, six construction yards, a cruiser construction center, and four thousand of our best trained technicians are casualties. Do you know what this means?"

  His voice reached a cold pitch of anger.

  "Yes, Grandfather, I am fully aware of what it means."

  "A third of all our carrier construction facilities smashed by this noisome fly of a ship, and you let it elude you!"

  "Sire, if you had followed my recommendation and pulled the entire home fleet back this never would nave happened. And tell me, Grandfather, what is the latest from Vukar?"

  Prince Thrakhath waited.

  "The landing is still going according to plan, but there has been a problem detected."

  "And that is?"