The Hope Island Chronicles Boxed Set

by PJ Strebor

  Nathan heard the hatch open behind him but he could detect no danger. The three assailants smiled. Kellerman stood beside him, the pulsar held in his right hand. He stared at the crewmen and shook his head.

  “Did you drop something, Captain?” he asked, handing the weapon to Nathan butt first.

  The three crewmen gaped at the COB. Nathan nodded to Kellerman while holstering his weapon. Retrieving the knife from the deck Kellerman approached the crewmen. He handed the knife to Holtz.

  “He needs to die, Chief,” Holtz screamed. “I hate him and want him dead.”

  “I hate him too,” Kellerman said. “But for the time being we need him.”

  “We can do okay without him,” Holtz said. “We should surrender and take our chances.”

  “You’re an idiot, Holtz,” the COB said. “Surrendering means death. There is no chance.” Arms akimbo Kellerman set a steely gaze onto the three would be attackers. “Now listen up you knuckleheads. No more attacks on Vogel.”

  “He attacked Holtz,” an older crewman said. “Hit him in the throat. We should -”

  “You should shut the fuck up and listen to me,” Kellerman barked. “Take a good look at Vogel. Go on, look.” They did as instructed. “See how he’s standing. A pretty relaxed pose, isn’t it? That is the stance of a man trained in martial arts. I’ve seen it before. Relax, await the attack, then strike. He’s Athenian, probably Monitor Corps which means he’s most likely academy trained. Which means he’s been studying Aikido for years. He hit you in the throat, Holtz?” The petty officer nodded. “If he had a mind to he could have easily killed you. That was a love tap. Now each of you say, ‘thank you COB.”

  “But -”

  “Say it,” Kellerman shouted.

  “Thank you, COB,” they replied.

  “You’re welcome. By breaking up this pathetic scuffle I’ve saved your lives and that of everyone aboard this boat. Listen up and spread the word. Vogel is off-limits. If anyone tries for him again they’ll have me to deal with. Got it?”

  “Aye, aye, COB.”

  “Get it through your thick skulls,” Kellerman said. “If he dies, we all die.”

  “We don’t need him,” Holtz spat.

  “Oh, yeah? Who’s going to pilot the boat? You? And even if we make it across the border who’ll speak for us. An Athenian officer gives us a fighting chance. Without him the southerners will fire on us first and ask questions later. Think about that before you even consider further action. Now, return the knives to the mess and get back to work.”

  A final hate-filled glare from Holtz and the trio broke up. Kellerman stood before Nathan.

  “Thanks for that, COB,” Nathan said.

  “Fuck you!” Kellerman spat. “The minute we don’t need you anymore I’ll be at the head of the queue to end you.”

  “Hmm. Well, good luck with that,” Nathan said.

  “I’ve bought you some time, but not much,” Kellerman said. “You’ve done the worst thing to this crew than any man could do.”

  “I know,” Nathan said.

  “No you don’t!” Kellerman snapped. “Yes, you’ve taken their futures, but you’ve done something much more than that. You’ve taken their hope. Not one man aboard this boat thinks we’re going to make it. There’re all dead men, waiting for you to make your first mistake. You can do a lot to a man and he’ll survive but once you take his hope, he’s a lost cause.

  Nathan rubbed at the bump above his right eyebrow. “They need hope do they? Hmm, they need a win, something to renew their expectations.”

  “I don’t know what you’ve got in mind,” Kellerman said, “but whatever it is you’d better do it damn fast.”

  Nathan nodded.

  CHAPTER 53

  Date: 15th October, 326 ASC

  Position: E 692, traversing hyperspace. Northern Quarantine Zone.

  Nathan found Kellerman in the mess drinking coffee. Although he added the requisite quantities of sugar and cream to his coffee the first sip made him wince.

  “Do you mind if I join you, COB?” Nathan asked.

  Kellerman grunted.

  Nathan took a seat opposite and took another sip of the foul blend.

  “I thought the coffee in my navy was bad but this is disgusting,” Nathan said.

  Kellerman’s lack of response was what he expected from one of many crewmen aboard who hated his guts.

  “Do we have heavy mobile pulsar ordnance aboard this boat?” Nathan asked.

  Kellerman sighed. “Yeah, we’ve got two mark twenties.”

  “Good,” Nathan said. “I want them both fitted to the boat bay.”

  “Okay,” he replied.

  “I also need two crewmen who are trained in their use.”

  “You’re not thinking of taking this boat into combat, are you?”

  “Scared?” Nathan teased.

  “I’m concerned that we lack the personnel to function in a combat situation.”

  “With what I’ve got in mind, we’ll do fine with the crew we have,” Nathan said, holding the chief’s eyes. “Now, do we have anyone who can competently fire those pulsars?”

  “Yeah, me,” Kellerman said. “And Hoppe is pretty good. Why do you need them?”

  “I intend to take this boat into harm’s way,” Nathan said. “Protection to our six will factor into my tactics.”

  “Okay,” Kellerman said. “When do you need them fitted?”

  “Within the hour.”

  Kellerman’s mouth tightened into a fine line. He nodded.

  “Report to me when they’re in place,” Nathan said. He ditched the rest of his coffee and left.

  For three days Nathan had been using his Prep to avoid making enemy contact. Now he actively sought out enemy action. Something to restore the crew’s flagging spirits. A touch of hope for the future.

  Consultation of the boat’s data base supplied him with an appropriate target but it entailed great risk. He needed a significant combat operation, which would hopefully snap his crew out of their current malaise. The Traunstein hub should fit the bill. Furthermore, it would send a message to the crew that the Captain of this boat could not only show competence but could keep them alive.

  Nathan navigated the boat to the coordinates and egressed to normal space.

  “Winkler,” Nathan said, “what’s the count on our buffers?”

  The exec station wasn’t what the young engineer had been trained for so Nathan allowed him time.

  “Ah, here it is,” Winkler said. “They’re at fifty-six percent, sir.”

  “Very well, get them charged up,” Nathan said. “Contact me when it’s done. I’ll be in my quarters.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  Even Winkler refused to call him Captain. Hopefully, by the end of the day, that condition would change.

  Nathan dropped onto his rack and quickly fell asleep. Kellerman reported in an hour later. The mark twenties were in place. Winkler contacted him after a refreshing three hour nap. A quick splash of water onto his face then back to the bridge.

  “Winkler, pipe me through the boat,” Nathan said.

  “Aye, sir.”

  “This is the Captain,” Nathan began. “I have managed to avoid enemy contact but it’s just a matter of time before our luck runs out. So I’ve decided to give us an edge. This far out from the Empire, ship to ship communication from those warships hunting us will eventually cause problems. Because that gives our enemies a very real advantage over us I have decided to even the playing field. It is my intention to attack and destroy the Traunstein long-range communications hub. All crewmen alert condition one. Captain, out.”

  ***

  “Well, fuck me,” Bessell said. “I’ll give the Athenian one thing. He’s got balls.”

  Beside him CPO Kellerman nodded. “What do you think, COB?” Bessell asked.

  “Let’s hope he’s not a raving lunatic,” Kellerman said. “Traunstein is
protected by hunter- killer mines. Nasty beasts.”

  “Yeah,” Bessell said, “one decent hit could cut us in half. I hope Vogel knows what he’s doing.”

  So did Kellerman.

  ***

  “All decks report they are secured at alert condition one, sir,” Winkler said.

  It took the crew eighteen minutes to don their V suits and report to their combat stations. A deplorably long time but with only twenty of them covering positions allocated to eighty-nine crewmen, Nathan could fully appreciate their dismal response time.

  “Overden – Captain,” Nathan said over his comm.

  “Lieutenant Overden,” the WEO replied.

  “Load all tubes with type forty pulsar heads and charge the pulsars to maximum capacity,” Nathan ordered.

  “It will take a while to load the torpedoes, sir, with only four of us down here,” Overden said. “But the pulsars are armed and the buffers are firming up.”

  “Very well,” Nathan said. “Advise me when loading is complete.”

  With untrained crewmen in the weapons bay, he couldn’t rely on a speedy reload. Once battle began he would have only six torpedoes to complete the task. They would have to be enough.

  Nathan pushed the throttles to half speed and set E 692 on course for the hub. Traunstein was a fully automated station and old. Hopefully their sensor array hadn’t received an upgrade in recent years.

  His comm beeped. “Captain.”

  “All tubes loaded, sir,” Overden said.

  “Very well.” Nathan keyed his comm off and pushed the throttles to the red line

  “Winkler,” Nathan said, “record the attack and pipe it to every station on the boat.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Unlike the minefield guarding Saint Joan, the hunter-killers were far more lethal. Each contained a single pulsar, equivalent in power to the heavy pulsars carried on a cruiser. A single hit to his boat could disable or even destroy her. They were highly mobile, fast and maneuverable and a difficult proposition to kill. Getting past the outlying mines should present little difficulty but once he attacked the hub the others would come at him hard. His escape would have to be made fast if his crew were to survive.

  “Winkler, drop the shields,” Nathan said.

  “The shields, sir?”

  “Do it,” Nathan ordered.

  “Aye sir, shields are down.” The young ensign’s tone contained a question, curiosity and fear.

  “Find the controls to open the boat bay hatch,” Nathan said.

  “Aye sir.” Again the questioning tone. “Ah, yes, I’ve got it.”

  “Very well,” Nathan said. The hub came into view on his forward sensors. A relatively benign looking sphere dotted with antennae and a large hyperspace communicator. The HK’s dotted the area around the hub, silent and immobile, for now.

  “Kellerman – Captain.”

  “COB,” Kellerman replied. “Me and Hoppe are on the guns.”

  “Good,” Nathan said, “stay icy.”

  The boat answered to ahead flank. Once he achieved maximum speed Nathan cut power to the engines, piloting the boat toward its target on accumulated momentum. The first HK came into view off his port side. He slid past it without incident. So, no sensor upgrades. Two more HK’s to either side of the boat offered no response to his presence. The hub appeared between his cross hairs but Nathan waited until the range closed. His targeting scanner locked onto the target. Nathan fired three pulsar head torpedoes at the center of the sphere then banked away to starboard and pushed the throttles full ahead.

  “There are three mines directly ahead of us,” Winkler said. “Three more are approaching our stern. Fast.”

  The hub exploded with the briefest gush of fire.

  “Now Winkler,” Nathan said. “Open the boat bay hatch.”

  “Aye, sir, opening now.”

  Lining up on the three nearest HK’s Nathan fired a torpedo at the first, then the second and third. The first and second vaporized, the third, alerted to the attack took evasive maneuvers, avoiding his torpedo. “Shit.” Finally, a pop between his ears. Once again his knack activated when he needed it most.

  Utilizing both of his gifts Nathan streaked toward the deadly mine. Its powerful pulsar outranged his weapons so he would have to survive a couple of shots in order to close to effective range of his much weaker weapons. His Prep jabbed painfully against his spine. Nathan rotated the boat through her axis as the hunter-killer fired. The beam of silver blue energy came so close to the keel that the boat shuddered. E 692 still had not closed to effective pulsar range. Another jab of pain, another wild avoidance. Finally in range Nathan fired. The HK dodged his shot and fired back. Nathan was a micro second slow in responding. The enemy fire grazed the port tip of his boat sending a vibration through his command. He held off on his next shot, avoiding another close call. Locking her up, he depressed the firing stud. It hit dead center and the mine exploded.

  “Yes!” Winkler yelled.

  His Prep screamed and he rolled the boat over onto her back. Another HK had found his range.

  ***

  Kellerman and Hoppe sent a blistering torrent of pulsar fire at the HK but it dodged their best efforts to kill it.

  “Fucker,” Hoppe shouted.

  “Let’s try this,” Kellerman said. “Hoppe when I give the word light up its starboard side. Ready?”

  “Yep.”

  Kellerman aimed his weapon to the opposite side of the mine and prepared to fire.

  “Now,” he shouted.

  As he expected the HK jigged away from Hoppe’s fire and right between his crosshairs. He fired an automatic burst and clipped its edge. Damaged, the mine spun out of view.

  “Yeah!” Hoppe yelled.

  The boat bay hatch began closing. “What the fuck?”

  “Attention all crew, brace for rapid ingression,” Winkler said. “I say again, brace for rapid ingression.”

  Kellerman and Hoppe stared at one another before racing to the stern and propping their backs against the bulkhead.

  ***

  “I say again, brace for rapid ingression,” Winkler said.

  With HK’s closing in on his position Nathan could not ingress from the danger in a conventional manner. Rapid ingressions were never a good idea, unless death was the only other option. Crossing into hyperspace at high speed could damage the boat. No choice. Opening the perforation into hyper Nathan cut engine thrust and pressed his back into his chair.

  The best analogy for the transition from normal to hyperspace was to imagine yourself rowing a boat. A slow steady pace in normal space. Then you drop over a waterfall called hyper.

  At full speed E 692 crossed the barrier into hyper. The boat immediately sped up. Nathan groaned as his body pressed into his chair. It felt as if someone had parked a ground car on his chest. Through blurring eyes he read the stress meter just before he blacked out. Fifteen gees.

  Sometime later the pain woke him. He hurt all over and his bruised ribs made breathing difficult. He sat quietly and checked to see if his body had sustained any permanent damage. Light headedness, a general malaise and overall discomfort, but nothing permanent. His legs refused to work so he continued to wait for the effects to pass.

  CHAPTER 54

  Date: 16th October, 326 ASC.

  Position: E 692, traversing hyperspace. Northern Quarantine Zone.

  Chief Petty Officer Kellerman stepped from the shower and began toweling down. A hot shower and massage had eased the stress in his neck muscles after yesterday’s fifteen gee outing. Every member of the crew were feeling the effects of the bold maneuver but knew that if Vogel hadn’t done what he had, none of them would be feeling anything.

  In the mess he poured himself a coffee. Four crewmen chuckled from a nearby table while examining a data-pad.

  “How did he do that?” one of them asked.

  Curious, Kellerman stood behind them.

>   “Hey COB,” another said, “have you seen this?”

  Kellerman expected to see porn but instead found that they were watching a recording of Vogel’s attack on the communications hub.

  “No,” Kellerman said.

  “Hey, play it back so the COB case see it.”

  “Okay.”

  Kellerman followed the action. The stealth approach, the attack on the hub, which got a cheer from the crewmen, the escape, the HK that should have destroyed them.

  “How did he do that?” a crewman asked. “It’s like he knew what it would do beforehand.”

  “And here’s the fun part.” The imaged showed the rapid ingression. “Oh, my aching back.”

  “Sorry COB, but there’s no footage of you and Hoppe killing HK’s.”

  “I still hate Vogel’s guts, but with him in charge I’m starting to think we might just make it into the south.

  Kellerman hid a smile.

  CHAPTER 55

  Date: 20th October, 326 ASC.

  Position: E 692, traversing hyperspace. Northern Quarantine Zone.

  After a week aboard the E boat, the crew’s open hostility toward Nathan had slowly eased to a sad resignation of their current circumstances. They were a sullen lot but with each day that passed without encountering a pursuing warship, their understandable anxiety eased.

  The resistance to his presence aboard the boat had lightened after his successful attack on Traunstein, but the abiding resistance to his captaincy remained. No doubt there would still be crewmen who would be happy to see an end to him. Still, they appeared to be a little less dire than a week ago.

  Nathan flexed his left hand. After nearly three months of recovery he had dispensed with the cast. His thumb still hurt but was improving with every passing day.

  He stepped into the officer’s wardroom. There were only four crewmen, eating and talking. Their conversations, that would normally discontinue when he showed up, carried on. For the sake of convenience, both officers and enlisted crew used the same mess. He stood by the serving area until today’s rostered cook turned up.