The Hope Island Chronicles Boxed Set

by PJ Strebor

  Nathan nodded. “Until then, Captain.”

  She shook his hand. “It’s such a pity.” Nathan asked what she’d meant with his eyes. “I’ve had the honor of meeting you, but I can’t tell anyone.”

  “Top secret mission, Joan.”

  He turned, sealed both hatches and made his way to the bridge with Ryden beside him.

  “They seemed friendly enough,” Ryden said around a wry smile.

  On the bridge Nathan gestured for Krause to join them in the briefing room.

  “As you noticed, Ernst, Pruessens aren’t Cimmerians’ favorite people,” Nathan said. “Your navy paid Cimmeria a visit four years ago, using captured Talgarno warships. It was a messy business and the Cimmerians hold grudges. I know, I was on the planet at the time.”

  “Four years ago? Yes, the scuttlebutt went through the fleet like a dose of pox.” Ryden’s eyes narrowed. “Were you, by any chance, an ensign at the time?”

  Nathan kept his expression neutral. “I may have been.”

  “I’m not following this,” Krause said.

  “Come on Werner, you’ve heard the stories. A lone Athenian ensign, destroyed the Bret’s huge battle-station and stopped the invasion.” He jabbed a finger at Nathan. “Guess who?”

  Krause’s jaw dropped open.

  “No wonder you’re so popular with the Cimmerians,” Ryden said.

  “Yes, well, enough of that,” Nathan said, clearing his throat. “So, gentlemen, I would like your professional assessment of our current situation. Are we going to be entertaining guests?”

  “If they’ve pursued you into League space, I don’t see them stopping now,” Ryden said. “If I was leading the ships, Cimmeria would be the logical choice for you to go. It’s a long, long way to Athens.”

  Nathan nodded. “Would they risk starting a war with the League?”

  “They should have called off the pursuit as soon as you entered southern space,” Ryden said. “Pruessen doctrine has always been to enter League space, where feasible, but don’t get caught in the act. If they send a force against Cimmeria, it would have to be big enough to guarantee destroying all ships and all witnesses.”

  “An Armada?” Nathan said.

  “It’s either that or they give up the chase and return north.”

  “They still have a sizeable force covering the frontier,” Nathan said. “That’s not good. That’s not good at all.”

  CHAPTER 77

  Date: 3rd January, 327 ASC.

  Position: Standing off the planet Lucifer. League of Allied Worlds space.

  Orson had floated within the darkness of interstellar space for three hours, until E 372 had locked onto his transponder signal and brought him aboard. By the time his E boat rendezvoused with the larger E 788, Telford’s lead had increased to half a day.

  He hadn’t sought to scan Telford’s mind. That would only alert him to the fact that he still lived and put him on alert. Orson didn’t need to read his intentions. The only rational choice for his next port of call had to be Cimmeria.

  Orson ordered Captain Coppins to send the two remaining attack boats to get reinforcements. Spread out along the frontier were more than enough ships to crush the pathetic Cimmerian picket. Time, precious time. It would take weeks for the Cimmerians to summon assistance. Pruessen forces were only days away. Yes, time was on Orson’s side.

  The last four days had gleaned two battleships, three heavy cruisers and six destroyers. A good start but Orson needed an overwhelming advantage, for his attack plan to succeed.

  Some captains had been hesitant to cross the border, but one mention of Commodore Draeger’s name had changed their attitudes.

  With the sort of reinforcements that were speeding from the north, into this system, the pitifully small Cimmerian navy would be brushed aside like a speck of dust from his dress uniform.

  Yes, everything was progressing just as he wanted it to.

  CHAPTER 78

  Date: 5th January, 327 ASC.

  Position: Cimmerian outer marker. League of Allied Worlds space.

  Six days without enemy contact had the picket force getting jittery. Nathan sadly admitted that playing the waiting game didn’t sit well with him.

  Admiral Knott, the Bretish battleship commander, and senior officer of the expanded picket, had called a meeting of all ship captains. Nathan brought his landing boat into the boat bay of the Bretish battleship HMS Renown and was directed to a parking hangar. He piloted the LB alone, for no one wanted Pruessens wandering around their ship. After he shut down all systems Nathan stepped from the boat. A Bret lieutenant awaited him and snapped to attention.

  “Sir,” he said with crisp efficiency, “I am your escort.” He ran, what he thought to be, a non-appraising eye over Nathan’s flight suit. “If you will step this way, sir, Admiral Knott is awaiting you.”

  Nathan hid a sigh and nodded. The ship looked as if it had just rolled off the production line. Not a scratch or a speck of neglect to be seen. If the stiff-backed lieutenant was anything to go by her ship’s compliment may be just as untried as well.

  Stepping from the lift Nathan followed the lieutenant into a large, lavishly appointed room. Waiters loitered, eager to swoop onto any near-empty glass. Nathan started to get a bad feeling about this whole night. He nodded to Moe, who’d abstained from drinking. Captain Garner had also chosen not to partake. Amongst a sea of class A dress uniforms Nathan’s flight suit stood out like an ugly sister at a debutante’s ball.

  The lieutenant directed Nathan to the admiral. Tall and rangy with the beginning of a paunch and graying at the temples.

  “Admiral Knott, Captain Vogel, sir.”

  The Admiral ran his eyes over Nathan’s flight suit. “Vogel,” he said, “that’s a Pruessen name is it not?”

  “It’s what I’m calling myself today, Admiral,” Nathan said.

  An eyebrow arched. “Really?”

  “Sir, I’m on a highly sensitive, top secret mission, so I am unable to reveal my name.”

  The admiral smiled. “I know who you are, for goodness sake” he said. “Just having a spot of fun.”

  A joker, oh great.

  “Captain Garner filled me in,” the Bret continued. “I’ve read the reports on the Cimmerian incursion, so I know who you are.”

  “I’m not at liberty to confirm or deny your suspicion, Sir.” Nathan felt a wry smile slither onto his face.

  Admiral Knott chuckled then offered his hand. It was unusually soft for such a tall man. “Welcome aboard. So, captain, what’s your poison?”

  From his breath Nathan surmised that Knott had been drinking whisky.

  “Respectfully sir,” Nathan said, “I don’t think that is advisable, given the circumstances.”

  Knott’s lips tightened into a fine line. “Do you think me a fool, Vogel?”

  Nathan cleared his throat.

  “Accompany me, young sir.”

  The admiral sought out an elderly female officer with the rank of commander.

  “Captain Vogel may I introduce you to Commander Selby, Renown’s senior medical officer.”

  They shook hands.

  “Dorothy,” the Admiral said, “I don’t think young Captain Vogel approves of drinking on the job. If you wouldn’t mind?”

  “Yes, Admiral,” the doctor said, casting a disapproving scowl at Nathan. “Captain Vogel, the Admiral would never consider such behavior if he thought it would interfere with the normal running of the ship.” From a table she picked up a bag and removed a hypo. “One shot of this will neutralize any alcohol in your system within thirty seconds.”

  Nathan sighed. Well, hotshot, you got that one wrong.

  “My apologies, Admiral,” Nathan said. “During my last visit to this world I –”

  “I know, Lieutenant Telford,” Knott whispered. “And, I understand the constraints of a top secret mission. I’ve read the file on you and what you, and others had to contend
with. But not all Bretish Admirals are imbeciles, you know.”

  “Of course not, sir.” Nathan felt the back of his neck heating up.

  Knott hailed a waiter and ordered a refill.

  “Oceanian beer, if you have it,” Nathan said to the waiter.

  “That’s the way,” Knott said. “Now come along and I’ll introduce you to some of the other captains.”

  “Captain Le Clere of the Francorum battleship Toulouse, Captain Vogel.”

  The Franc held out her hand and Nathan shook it. What the hell. I’m commanding a warship full of square heads, so shaking a Franc’s hand is nothing.

  “A genuine pleasure to meet you, Captain,” she said.

  She recognizes me.

  “Thank you, Ma’am.”

  “Come along,” Knott said.

  Two younger captains were engaged in conversation but disengaged as the Admiral approached.

  “Captain Cunningham of the Caledonian frigate Paisley, Captain Vogel. And while I’m at it, Captain Yardley of the Oceanian Destroyer Sydney. Phew, what a mouthful.”

  Nathan shook hands with both officers.

  “You’ve monopolized enough of my time, Captain Vogel, so I shall leave you to mingle.”

  The Caledonian said something but his accent was so thick Nathan couldn’t understand him. His confusion must have translated to his face. The Occie skipper laughed.

  “Believe me, Vogel, it takes some getting used to.” Her broad lethargic accent, although challenging, was translatable.

  “I said,” the Caledonian began, “how’s, life, in, the, Pruessen, navy?”

  “Surreal,” Nathan replied.

  Captain Yardley stepped in close and whispered in his ear. She smelled good. “We both know who you are, Telford.”

  “From the looks I’ve been getting I think everyone does.”

  Having his picture splashed across the news nets, after the battle of Cimmeria, had done nothing to aid his anonymity.

  “I, like, your, work,” Cunningham articulated.

  “Yeah, bloody good show on Cimmeria, Telford,” Yardley said.

  “Could we at least pretend that I’m doing a bang-up job at convincing everyone I’m Vogel?” Nathan pleaded.

  His beer arrived. Nathan drank half of it in a single go and sighed.

  “Occie beer,” Yardley said. “You’re a man of good taste.”

  Nathan’s nerves were jangling so he finished the beer and ordered another.

  “Not like you to drink on the job, Nate,” Moe said. She and Joan Garner had snuck up on his six. After introducing Cunningham and Yardley, Nathan explained the new drinking rules. Moe took Joan’s order and headed for the bar. Over the next two hours the evening progressed in a smooth and friendly manner until the Admiral called the meeting to order.

  “I thought that this evening, and its informality was in order. Soon we could be fighting and dying with one another so …” he held out his arms. “I hope everyone has had a good night.”

  “Hear, hear,” Cunningham said.

  Nathan thought that’s what he said.

  Knott smiled. “Very well, people, time to address the elephant in the room. We all know who Captain Vogel is and when you leave this room that information stays here. I’m sure you’re all aware that someone on a covert mission needs to maintain their anonymity. Yes?”

  Everyone nodded. Nathan began to relax, feeling mildly lightheaded from the six beers he’d consumed.

  “Good. Now, I need opinions, observations, even speculation as to what our next move will be.”

  “Admiral,” Nathan and Moe spoke at the same time.

  “I think we’re both thinking the same thing, Nate.”

  “Yeah,” Nathan said. “Take it away.”

  “Admiral,” Moe said, “I would like your permission to take Adroit, and Captain Vogel, on a scouting mission.”

  “To Lucifer?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You and Adroit, yes, Vogel, no.”

  “May I ask why, sir?” Nathan asked.

  “Quite frankly, captain, I don’t like the idea of your E boat being left unattended. You say your crew are seeking asylum, but there is no precedent for a defecting Pruessen naval vessel. I would prefer you to be aboard her to keep an eye on things.”

  “I understand your reasoning, Admiral,” Nathan said, “but I have as many Athenians aboard the boat as Pruessens. Also Lieutenant Willett is a seasoned officer with combat experience. We’ve both been on that boat for months. If the crew were anything but trustworthy one of us would have twigged.”

  “Additionally, Admiral,” Moe said, “Nathan and I have worked together very effectively in the past. He’s an asset I need on this mission, sir.”

  “Plus, sir, Adroit is the only true stealth boat in this flotilla,” Nathan said. “We transit in, take a quick look around and transit out.”

  “Yes sir,” Moe said. “Easy breezy.”

  Silence lingered in the air like an impending threat until Knott chuckled. “You two are quite the double act, aren’t you?” He considered the proposal for a moment longer. “Vogel, can you guarantee that your Pruessens will behave themselves during your absence?”

  “Without hesitation, Admiral.”

  “Captain Okuma, when did you have in mind for your easy breezy?”

  “As soon as your doctor gives us both shots of her voodoo juice, sir.”

  Knott nodded. “Very well, you two, permission granted.”

  ***

  Nathan stepped onto the E boat’s bridge. “Willett, briefing room. You two as well,” he said to Ryden and Krause. Resting on the edge of the briefing table he took in Ensign Rudi Willett’s boyish face.

  “I’ve been called away on an intell mission,” Nathan said. “While I’m gone Lieutenant Willett will be in command.”

  “I’m an ensign, sir.”

  “No Rudi, you are a highly experienced full-grade lieutenant,” Nathan said. “At least that’s the story you’ll all tell, if anyone checks in.”

  The two Pruessens were not impressed.

  “After what we’ve all been through,” Nathan said, “you deserve better than this. I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be.”

  “Sir,” Willett said, “I’m not up for this. Not yet.”

  “He’s right,” Krause said.

  “Of course he’s right, and that’s why you two will advise him. Rudi, basically do whatever Commander Ryden says. If enemy ships turn up the boat will be yours, Ernst. Questions?”

  “So after all we’ve been through,” Krause said, “your people still don’t trust us.”

  Nathan could fully understand the bitterness in Krause’s words.

  “It’s the way things are, Werner, so get used to it,” Ryden said. “You don’t undo thirty years of conditioned thinking overnight. I’ve a feeling we’re going get a lot more of that same reaction over the next few years. But since the alternative is death, we’ll take it on the chin and hope for the best.”

  “I should be back in four days,” Nathan said. “Mister Willett, the boat is yours. More or less.”

  CHAPTER 79

  Date: 7th January, 327 ASC.

  Position: Adroit traversing hyperspace, en-route to the planet Lucifer. League of Allied Worlds.

  Adroit came to a dead stop at Lucifer’s inner marker. Grace sat at the tactical station while Moe hovered behind Nathan who manned the helm. Reaching out with his senses, Nathan could detect no danger around their egression point. He brought the boat through the hyper perforation and into normal space.

  From the edge of the inner marker Lucifer resembled a small golden ball. Nathan was mildly surprised that no picket guarded the I-M. Still, if they were so self-assured of their invulnerability, that sort of misguided overconfidence could work in their favor.

  “Grace are you getting anything?” Moe asked Adroit’s D-O.

  “Even on passive,” Grace said
from the tactical station, “I’m picking up a lot of ships.”

  “Captain,” Nathan said. “Mind if I go downstairs?”

  Moe nodded and leaned into his ear. “Are you going to do that thing you do?”

  “Yeah. It’s clearer if I’m in line of sight.”

  “Off you go.” Moe slipped into the vacated helm chair.

  Nathan strapped into the combat chair and descended into the combat sphere. Sitting in the darkened sphere he began the slow deep breathing exercise which would take him into a meditative state.

  “SMC, prepare to activate holo-panels on my mark. Maximum magnification, real time image.”

  “Confirmed, Captain,” the machine voice said. “Awaiting your mark.”

  “SMC, mark.”

  It took fifteen seconds for all panels to activate. Nathan took those seconds to go deeper into theta level. Totally calm and focused he reached out with his senses stretching them to their limits.

  Danger tore at him. Intense and almost overwhelming. Sharpening his focus he calibrated the strength of the danger to the ship he scanned. Six ships out of the couple of dozen screamed the utmost danger. Battleships perhaps. Heavy cruisers and destroyers. A massive fleet.

  Pain seared his exposed mind as the other invaded, probing deeper and deeper. Nathan opened his eyes and fought to break contact. Claws stroked his mind, tearing at him. Intense pain, inexorable pain, and strong, so strong.

  “No, no, no,” he screamed. “Get the fuck out of my head,” he roared. He wept as he finally broke free. He sat for some time, resting from his ordeal.

  Retrieving to the bridge he tried to rub the pain from the back of his eyes.

  He jumped as Moe touched his shoulder.

  “You all right?” she asked, concern written on her face.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” Nathan said, marveling at the weakness of his voice. “Now.”

  “Grace, report,” Moe said.

  “I’ve got all I’m going to get,” she said.

  Through a blur Nathan sensed Moe taking the boat into hyper. He tried to move but his exhaustion was such that he lacked the energy to unbuckle. He drifted in a sea of nausea and pain. Moe said something, but he couldn’t make it out. Then, as if in a dream, gentle hands lifted him from his chair, before the darkness took him.