The Helmsman laboriously pecked away on his touch screen. “By a comfortable margin,” he said.
“Let’s dial her back to three-quarters full military power,” Spalding suggested.
The words were barely out of his mouth, before the Communications operator was on the horn to the cutters, and the Helmsman was dialing back the speed on his console.
This time, the delay was much shorter than the last time he had given orders to max his afterburners. He pursed his lips at this suspicious evidence of foot dragging.
The bridge was still under too much gravity to breathe a sigh of relief, but he could see that it was no longer weighing on them so badly.
His actuators whining under the increased gravity, he returned to the damage control section and started massaging the settings again. After a little trial and error, he managed to settle things down at two and a half gravities, and they were still outrunning the Cruisers—both light, and heavy.
“We’re getting casualty reports from all over the ship, Sir,” reported the internal communications operator.
“Send them to those young quacks down in Medical,” the old Engineer said shortly. He did not like to see the crew abused like this, but there was no choice. Not if they were going to have any chance of freeing the Admiral, and then the Clover.
“It’s only going to get worse if we stay at this kind of gravity, Chief,” Brence advised him in a low voice.
“It’ll toughen them up for what’s to come, Brence,” Spalding said, shaking his head and speaking without his usual vigor.
“I’m serious; we can’t keep this up for long,” the other man pressed, looking like he was in pain.
“It hurts me to do it to them, but each person here knew what he and she was signing up for when they put on the uniform,” the Old Engineer said, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice.
The look the former Engineering rating threw him, said that not everyone had known what they were signing up for, but Spalding let it pass.
“As long as you’re sure it’s necessary, Lieutenant,” said Brence, sweat breaking out on his forehead.
“It’s a sad and sorry fact of this existence, that you can’t make an omelet without cracking a few eggs,” the old Engineer said, closing his eyes briefly. When they opened, a fire burned deep inside, “That’s why I prefer Engineering, and stay as far away from the Command Chair as I can manage.”
“I understand,” said Brence.
Spalding raised his eyebrows. “Perhaps you do, at that,” he gave himself a shake, “regardless, our helm will have to stay on his feet, to avoid our pursuers behind us when we change course.”
Brence smiled, and if it was a bit pinched, Spalding chose to ignore it.
“I’m not feeling well,” said the Helmsman, causing the old engineer to frown thunderously.
“No slacking off now, Helmsman; not when the job’s just begun!” he warned direly.
“As you say, Chief Engineer,” the Helmsman replied faintly.
“You can make it lad, just grit your teeth and it’ll all be over before you can snap your fingers,” the old Engineer urged.
“As easy as smuggling whiskey past an Officer,” Brence threw his own encouragement to the mix.
The wily old engineer started to nod knowingly, and then did a double take. The glare he shot his XO’s way was hot enough to melt bulkheads.
Ignoring the byplay, the Helmsman tried to snap his fingers, but with the increased gravity was having a heck of time getting the speed and friction necessary for the gesture.
Spalding gave the formerly—and it had best be a very much formerly—wayward spacehand beside him a thunderous look, before rounding on the Helmsman. But the sight of the man’s inability to make a single sound, using his fingers, forced a reluctant smile from the old man’s lips.
“I did tell him it’d be over before he could snap his fingers, but I didn’t mention anything about how long that would take,” Spalding harrumphed, placing a well satisfied pair of hands on his hips.
“I can see that,” Brence agreed.
“A Spalding never knowingly lies, and that’s what being an Officer is all about, Brence me-boy: truth, honesty and the Capri—ahem, I mean Confederation way, of course,” Spalding said with a smile.
Beside him, Brence rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath too low for the Chief Engineer to catch.
“Almost didn’t become an Officer, you know, once upon a time,” Spalding said nostalgically.
“I hear that,” his Executive Officer said, with just a little too much feeling.
Spalding’s eyebrows beetled and he glowered at the former space hand for stealing his righteous thunder, before settling back in the heavily worn (and poorly patched) Captain’s Chair with a loud harrumph.
Chapter 41: Making a Move
The Easy Haven formation crept steadily further in-system, its efforts to remain hidden from sight no doubt assisted by the short squadron, which was even now, making its desperate run for Praxis.
“The last of the non-combatant starships have successfully interposed the planet between themselves and the oncoming raiders. While the Praxis SDF has maneuvered their single squadron of the wall, and its supporting elements, between the Raider Four and Central,” the Ensign at Sensors reported.
“Excellent work, Sensors,” LeGodat acknowledged, making sure his men were verbally rewarded for a job well done.
On the main screen, the Commodore watched as both squadrons of the 25th Sector Guard maneuvered out to meet the oncoming threat. Together, they broke orbit around the fourth—and only, massively inhabited—planet in this star system.
On the main screen, Raider Four, the ‘should have been’ extremely sluggish Hydra Class Medium Cruiser continued to marginally outrun is normally fleeter of foot pursuers.
“Do we have any idea how that Hydra is outrunning those Defender Class Light Cruisers,” he asked, for what he figured must have been about the sixth time so far today.
“Still nothing definitive,” his Engineering watch stander scowled.
“How is it powering five additional secondary drive systems,” Natasha Stravinsky marveled, with what sounded like genuine, if reluctant, admiration for the feat.
“Most of the light units in this system have been moved to intercept the hostiles,” he mused, as he observed the three raider Corvettes running for their lives, under hot pursuit from local SDF warships. Then he turned his gaze to the improbable sight of a Hydra showing its heels to anything—let alone, a pair of Defenders!
“Whoever it is over there, certainly knows her stuff,” the Engineering watch stander said, with admiration in her voice, “I wouldn’t have thought it was possible, if I wasn’t seeing it myself.”
“Several freighters are making a run for the hyper-limit,” reported the Ensign at Sensors.
“Those fools; they’re more likely to take damage outside the protection of those planetary batteries and mobile forces, than if they just stayed still,” the XO said scornfully.
LeGodat nodded in agreement, his hawk-like eyes nailed the main viewer, observing the movements taking place all over it.
There was a stir in the Sensor pit, and an Operator started to jump to his feet, only to be firmly but forcefully slammed back in his chair by a Chief Petty Officer. A moment later, the Ensign in command of Sensors turned to the Commodore.
“We’ve just been able to confirm, Sir! The Dungeon ship is making a run for the hyper-limit as well,” he said with a smile.
“Good work, Ensign,” LeGodat replied.
“And, Sir…it just so happens to be coming our way,” the young officer said with a vicious grin.
“Excellent. It looks like our whisker lasers weren’t for nothing after all,” the Commodore said, leaning back in his Command Chair. He was still concerned about the lack of reply to his covert hails, but something inside him unclenched ever so slightly.
“She waited until most of the smaller, faster units
were too far away to intercept her,” the Lieutenant Commander beside him said, a hungry smile on her face.
“We don’t know for certain that Captain McCruise is still in command of her ship, XO,” he said determinedly downplaying things, at least until he knew exactly was going on. It was important not to fall into any mental traps at this stage.
“We’ve got a return com-laser from Captain McCruise, Commodore. She’s says she’s got the Admiral, and is requesting a rendezvous and support,” the Com Officer said with a grin.
“Feed her these coordinates,” LeGodat instructed, shooting over the numbers to the Communications Ensign.
“Should we cease silent running and go active, Sir?” Lieutenant Commander Stravinsky asked urgently.
Mentally, he quickly ran the numbers, and disliked what he came up with.
“Blast, she’s too far in system,” he muttered under his breath. Any attempt on his part to go active and get there sooner, was only more likely to bring unwanted attention to that Dungeon Ship, not less.
“Commodore,” she said urgently.
The Sensor Ensign turned to the Commodore. “The Medium Cruiser’s changing course; she’s now aiming for the Dungeon Ship.”
“She’s going to run right smack into the 1st Squadron of the Guard,” Stravinsky winced.
“Hydras are tough,” LeGodat assured her, downplaying his own similar worries. “I’m more concerned about the increasing curve in their course. As McCruise gets further and further out system, those Defenders actually might be able to catch up.”
Then it became obvious that whoever was in command of that Hydra shared his concerns, because if anything, its acceleration profile actually just went up.
“Blazes, I didn’t think they had any more in them,” Stravinsky whispered.
“I’m detecting an unstable fluctuation in their grav-plates and stabilizer units,” the Engineering watch stander said, sounding concerned.
“Well, at least we know they’re not pirates anymore,” Colin LeGodat said with a frown.
“How so, Sir?” Stravinsky demanded.
The Commodore raised an eyebrow at this. “That Dungeon ship might conceivably contain high level Pirates, as well as our very own Confederation Vice Admiral. But I sincerely doubt that any Pirate alive would risk splattering himself all over the floor of his ship on a potential suicide move to outrun enemy pursuit. It’s just not in their nature to make sacrifices of that nature; something you’d know, if you stopped for two seconds to consider the matter, Lieutenant Commander,” he explained, allowing a mild rebuke to enter into his voice.
“Then we have to help them,” she frowned, both at the situation and the rebuke.
“We’re more likely to engender the sort of response we don’t want: warships diverted from Planetary Protection duty sent to take down the Dungeon Ship, before we could conceivably reach her. I wish it were otherwise, but for the moment, McCruise is on her own,” shaking his head furiously at his inability to help, for fear of making matters worse.
“There’s no guarantee they won’t send a few Medium Cruisers after her anyway,” Stravinsky pointed out.
“Let’s hope they stay focused on the little drama taking place in the middle of their system, for as long as possible,” was the only answer the Commodore could come up with.
Chapter 42: Yagar’s ‘Great Maneuver’
“Sir, you’re still going way too fast to match courses with her, Admiral,” Commodore Druid insisted as respectfully as possible.
There was a slight communications lag, after which Rear Admiral Yagar glared at him.
“We’ve got to slow her down before she manages to rendezvous with those escorts of hers, and that means crippling her engines,” Yagar said stiffly.
“The Praxis SDF has four corvettes in hot pursuit of two of their corvettes, and a Light Cruiser after the other. There are an additional two Light Cruisers, as well as a Heavy, after that Hydra, Sir. If even just the corvettes meet up with 1st Squadron, the Guard will have more than enough power to blow them out of the stars, if they slow down for even a moment,” Druid said confidently.
Rear Admiral Yagar stabbed his finger at the screen. “I don’t want these Raiders run out of the system, and I ‘don’t’ want to share the glory of their destruction with the Praxis SDF. If I wait for your Squadron—or Praxis—to catch up with the 1st, that’s exactly what I’d have to do,” Yagar declared.
“I really wish you’d reconsider, Admiral,” Druid said urgently.
“There’s not a Hydra ever built that could handle five new Marauder Class Corvettes and my Destroyer; we need to nail these dastards now, and we’re going to do it in front of the entire Sector Government,” the Rear Admiral said confidently.
“If you try to nail her engines in one single pass and fail, you risk her getting away!” Druid said, allowing more desperation into his voice than he would have liked.
“As you pointed out, the SDF’s hot on her trail,” Yagar scoffed, “at worst, we’ll have to share in the kill. This way, if we succeed, the SDF can chase a few Corvettes out of the system. Meanwhile, the Guard will have taken down the flagship of these piratical, raiding, scum!”
“I still don’t think these are raiders—” Druid started, only to be cut off by his superiors.
“What else could they be?” Yagar sneered.
“LeGodat’s forces, or Confederation Forces from Tracto, maybe,” Druid replied evenly.
“We’ve got the profile of every ship that’s ever been in Easy Haven, as well as the profiles of the ships comprising that pitiful excuse of a System Defense Force in Tracto, from when we took back that Constructor,” Yagar snapped, and made a slashing gesture with his hand. “No! We’ve got detailed scans of these junker warships, Commodore Druid, and they’re nothing more than a quad of run-down pirate ships, through and through,” he said sternly.
“The acceleration profile of that Hydra, screams anything but a pirate,” Druid protested.
“The one thing a pirate always focuses on is his engines; the better to make good his escape, when he runs into a real warship,” Yagar condescended, before leaning toward the pickup contemptuously. “Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were afraid of the hazard, Commodore Druid,” Yagar said with a harsh, derisive look, terminating the link with a throat-cutting gesture.
After terminating the connection with that worry-wart Druid, the duly-appointed Rear Admiral Yagar spun his chair an emphatic quarter turn, in order to face his Tactical Officer.
“Enough of what that nanny-bot and naysayer has to say,” he sneered, “it’s time to attack! We’ll cripple her engines and come around for another pass with the 2nd Squadron; I estimate we’ll be there just in time to finish her off before that pair of Defenders arrive!” Yagar said triumphantly.
Chapter 43: Standing Tall
“That Guard Squadron, with the Light Destroyer, is vectoring over for a firing pass, Lieutenant!” cried one of the Sensor Operators.
“Steady as she goes, crewmen!” roared Spalding, strapping himself into the Captain’s Chair.
“If we angle in towards them at the last minute and spin our ship as soon as we’ve interpenetrated, we might reduce the time they have to direct fire at our engines,” Brence said urgently.
Spalding’s jaw jutted out. “I want the full weight of our own fire focused on that Light Destroyer,” he ordered firmly. If those fools wanted to tangle with a heavily armored Hydra, he was more than willing to oblige them with a little destruction of their own. Although it grated to the very core of him, he added, “After clearing your guns, you are to follow the XO’s instructions, and spin the ship as soon as they’re on us.”
“Thank you, Chief,” said Brence.
“For what? Listening to some common blasted sense?” Spalding scoffed, and Brence straightened in his seat, looking prouder than a moment before.
Spalding failed to mention that vectoring in and spinning the ship had been the next thing he w
ould have ordered anyway, had the younger man not jumped the gun and brought it up early. Still, raining on his Chief Engineer’s parade was no reason to discourage initiative in one of his top men—so long as those men did not let the praise go to their heads, and try to transfer out of Engineering and over to a cushy job on the Bridge!
“They probably think they can cripple our single main engine with only one rapid pass, but between our shields and those very non-standard, cutter-shaped afterburners,” the Engineering Lieutenant waggled his eyebrows, “I’m willing to wager they’ve bitten off more than they can chew!”
“Let’s give it to them, boys; straight down their throats!” Brence hollered.
“Tell those lazy, slacking Gunners it’s time to earn their pay! They are to strap in, and fire as she bears, on that Destroyer,” Spalding ordered, his dander getting up at the proximity of combat.
“Yes, Sir!” reported the rating in charge of Tactical.
“I also want all possible power diverted to the rear shields, and that includes from our forward ones,” Spalding added grimly. He knew that things were about to get messy.
Chapter 44: The Silent Observers
LeGodat stared at the screen, his mind racing as he calculated speed, angles and vectors. It was going to be tight, but there was still a chance that this crazy-as-a-graveyard-skunk of a Medium Cruiser—that still had the focus of everyone else in this system—would manage to break through and continue their death ride attempt to link up with the Dungeon Ship with the goal of freeing their Admiral.
He was firmly reminded by the best possible source—his very own eyes—that just because he and the other Reservist Professionals from Easy Haven considered the Caprian Transferees less than fully trained (and not entirely professional in their habits) it by no means meant that they were anything less than dogged and relentless in the face of danger.
He only wished his own ships shared the incredible speed of that Hydra, and that his Officer’s had half the daring. Well, on second thought, he was more than comfortable with their current level of daring. As a Star Base Commander, he needed loose cannons running around performing crazy stunts like he needed a main reactor radiation leak.
Admiral's Trial (A Spineward Sectors Novel:) Page 33
