Galactic Council Realm 3: On Guard

by J. Clifton Slater

  With no snap during the evolution and the DS responding well, I called back to let everyone know it was safe to unbuckle. I had work to do on the ion wall, but first I wanted to position us for an orbit. Once the DS was caught in the planet’s gravity, it would pull us around like an orbiting satellite. The momentum would carry us for ten rotations, just long enough for me to finish my work.

  Voices told me the children and Heavy Rain were in the main cabin. There was laughter and soft voices obviously telling stories. I dropped power, angled for the proper orbital height above average crust level, and started to call Stone Angel forward to relieve me. I started to until the targeting defense system started its intermediate buzzing.

  Something had put a beam on us. We were in their attack zone and I couldn’t find them. Then I did. Three Constabulary Fighters came over the planet’s north pole. The only reason we weren’t space junk was the Fighters were tracking far ahead of the DS and much higher. They must have timed the attack based on our rate of approach. My drop in power and move to orbital altitude had saved us.

  “Everyone strap in, now,” I yelled as I threw power to the ion cannons and nosed up towards the north pole.

  They shot passed me, high overhead, on a course to the South pole. If I stayed on this heading, I’d meet the three Fighter formation at the equator on the far side of the planet. The result would be splash one Deep Space GunShip.

  “Warlock, is everyone strapped in?” I yelled.

  “Aye, all secured,” she responded.

  “Is there anyone on the lower deck?” I asked as an idea formed.

  “Negative, lower deck is unoccupied,” she called back.

  The atmosphere on the huge planet was thin but the heat radiating off the surface caused distorting waves of energy to radiate high above the crust. About half way to the North pole, I dipped into the thermal layer and made a 90 degree turn.

  The under carriage of the DS was heating up and the exterior heat sensors were sounding a warning. While it was pleasant on the main deck, below, the temperature on the lower deck was climbing. Nothing drastic, the Deep Space GunShip was designed for high level Striker insertions. It couldn’t land as Shuttles do but, she could handle some heat from the friction of entering an atmosphere. I just didn’t know how much heat.

  I estimated the Fighters were reaching the equator. With my shorter trip around the top of the planet, I was ahead of them. A quick calculation to judge their velocity gave me a good idea when to nose out of the thermal level.

  They passed over the nose of my rising DS. I chased them with my targeting system, got a lock on the lead Fighter, and fired two ship to ship rockets.

  He must have detected my launch as he pulled away from the planet. His wingmen stayed tight and the three went to full power. They were attempting to out run the rockets. At the maximum range for the rockets, the formation performed an impressive half loop and the rockets died as the fuel supply expired.

  At least I scared them, I thought, as they sped back to the planet and I sunk the DS back below the heat layer. Now I was hidden from them but, conversely, they were above the layer and invisible to me.

  Then, they made a mistake. Six missiles entered the heat layer, passed far ahead of me and impacted harmlessly on the surface of the planet. Not harmless to the thick red crust, they made a mess of several square meters of the soil, but the missiles posed no threat to the DS. The missiles angle of entry, speed and rate at impact, I used to identify where the missiles and the Fighters were when launched.

  If they held course, the Fighters would circle the upper portion of the planet. My estimate would only give me a guess but, I decided to chance it. I did a tight 180 turn adjusted my heading and armed four rockets.

  I hung just under the thermal layer and counted off seconds. On fifteen, I nosed up and got a firing solution. Fire, four away, then I dove back below the heat layer. Somewhere in the murky waves of heat, a large object entered the layer sending ripples through the thin atmosphere. Splash one for J-Pop, only two Constabulary Fighters to go. But, I had no idea where to find them.

  I had scored high in Fighters during Navy flight school so I had an idea of their tactics. Figuring they’d stay and see if I emerged again in the area, I turned towards the equator and applied power.

  The main deck on the DS was heating up. I could feel sweat on my forehead but didn’t have the time or the ability to do anything for my passengers. Below, the temperature would be unbearable and I thanked the fates all my passengers were all on the main deck.

  I pulled up above the thermal and ran a passive scan. Immediately, faint images of two Fighters was reflected back. Except the Fighters were really high and very far apart.

  They had broken formation to better hunt me, I assumed. The Deep Space GunShip wasn’t a match for a two Fighter formation but a single Fighter, if I could use the element of surprise, was possible.

  I nosed up and powered away from the planet. Once out in space, I swung back and located a Fighter. At any second, I expected him to turn and engage me. Instead, he continued his orbit.

  He wasn’t aware of the inbound DS until his target lock warning went off. It was my two rockets that set it off and he responded. The Fighter began basic evasion moves. The type taught in the first two weeks of Fighter training. Jerking and rocking the ship from side to side, as a student pilot would do, he didn’t fool the rockets. Splash Constabulary Fighter number two.

  I was baffled as the Fighter corkscrewed into the thermal layer. How could the pilot perform close formation flying one minute and fail miserably at evading a rocket the next?

  There wasn’t time to analyze the performance of this Fighter pilot as I had another to find. My last fix on his location had him heading north from the equator on the far side. I decided to go where he’d already searched. Maybe he would assume the cleared area was safe and relax on his next pass.

  Hugging the top of the thermal layer, I powered diagonally across the planet. I partially completed the circumnavigation when my passive scanners picked him up.

  The Constabulary Fighter and my DS GunShip were closing fast on a head to head course. He was higher and I was quicker. I angled up and fired.

  Two rockets leaped from their tubes and I rolled to the right. My passengers wouldn’t be happy but, they’d survive. I expected him to roll to his right and the rockets to miss. So I prepared to dive.

  He didn’t roll off the rockets’ track. Surprisingly, he pulled up exposing his belly. I was baffled by the stupid maneuver and ecstatic when both detonated mid ship.

  The ion walls in Fighters were designed to handle the torque between a stationary power plant and the twisting of a spacecraft’s frame. They were almost inseparable unless acted upon by a third force. The force supplied by two explosive warheads was the catalysts and the ion wall ejected itself from the Fighter.

  The two objects disappeared into the thermal layer. I believe the ion wall went in first. I didn’t watch, I had other things on my mind.

  We couldn’t stay in this area. If the Constabulary had sent three Fighters to hunt us, they could send more. There was the flaw in Stone Angel’s plot. He’d terminated it at a huge planet. The Constabulary Navigators weren’t dumb. All they needed to do was draw a line along the path of my ion trail and they’d see it had to end at the red giant. We needed to vacate this area, posthaste.

  I turned the DS and a half orbit later, put us on a heading to intercept Tuulia’s course.

  “Warlock, prep everyone for External evolution,” I called back.

  “Aye Sir,” she replied with a bit of scorn.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked as I pulled up the course on the computer and aligned the DS.

  “The next time we resupply,” she called back, “Let’s requisition some motion sickness bags.”

  I caught the aroma of stomach acid, bile and partially digested food. More than one of my passengers hadn’t handled the tight maneuvers very well. We evolved with the air scrubb
ing system attempting to clear the environment.

  Later, I saw the reason for the odor. Three of the children and Hui were pale and sickly looking. I joined the Strikers and Lorcan in cleaning up the cabin. Councilor Peng invoked his authority and didn’t participate.

  According to my calculations, we were approaching Tuulia’s course. Once we turned on the track, if we stayed with it, we’d be in for a three-week journey beyond the violent Star. On the far side, we’d do a 115 degree turn and three weeks later enter the Uno sector from the other side of the Star.

  Stone Angel pointed out that time was a major consideration as he rechecked the calculations for traveling in front of the Star. I was on board however, I wasn’t going to tempt fate, until I’d adjusted the ion cannons on the DS.

  “Stone Angel, come to the pilot deck,” I called to the rear of the cabin.

  “Aye Sir, on the way,” he responded.

  A short time later, he squeezed his bulk into the cockpit.

  “Is it time J-Pop?” he asked.

  “We’ve got an hour before we evolve,” I replied, “Once we’re on Internal drive, I want a full power scan and both of us on screens. If the area’s clear, we’ll shut down, and I’ll make the adjustments.”

  “And, if it’s not clear?” he asked.

  “We run for it,” I said admitting defeat, “the long way around.”

  “Aye sir, better late than dead,” he stated.

  We ran the scan, and after analyzing the results, both agreed this sector of space was empty. I left Stone Angel on the pilot’s deck nervously watching the screens. I went back to work on the ion wall.

  When they built the Deep Space GunShip, they added a lot of items to make the ship self-sufficient. One of the features was a mixture of ion cannons. The small cannons gave the DS agility. Enough to cause motion sickness unless the pilot was careful. The large ion cannons provided forward thrust. In order to limit the time across the face of the star, I wanted as much forward thrust as I could coax out of the DS.

  Three hours later, I’d replaced the ion wall fittings and exchanged four of the small cannons with larger ones. I figured the DS would have about a twenty percent increase in forward thrust. This would translate to the External drive when we evolved. However, there was a cost. The DS would handle like an ungainly Shuttle if we were attacked while on Internal drive.

  I finished tightening the final bolt, shut the ion wall access door, and stowed the tools in a cabinet. After a quick look around, I crawled back through the tunnel and emerged on the lower deck. Heavy Rain and the kids were in deep conversation. I left them alone and climbed to the main cabin.

  “I have the Bridge,” I announced to Stone Angel.

  “Aye J-Pop, you have the Bridge,” he replied as he crawled out of the pilot’s seat, “Can we expect any forewarning?”

  He meant would we experience any signs if we were hit by a C.M.E.

  “No, one second you’ll be fine,” I said as I powered up the Internal drive, “And a millisecond later, oblivion. So, no need to worry.”

  “Yes Sir,” he replied squeezing out of the cockpit, “No need to worry.”

  We evolved to External drive and our next turn point.

  The DS reached the coordinates for the star route and we evolved to Internal drive. I put the Striker in the pilot’s seat and called everyone to the main cabin.

  “In the next three hours,” I said looking at each face, “we’ll begin skirting the outer edge of a star’s corona. I won’t lie, it’s dangerous. I want everyone to select a meal.”

  “A celebration?” asked Lorcan.

  “Yes, a celebration,” I replied.

  Under his breath, I heard Fire Dove mumble, “The condemned man’s last meal.”

  I wanted to agree with him but kept my misgivings to myself. It was time to challenge the odds. There was one last piece of business before we went to ‘our fiery deaths. Wrong thinking, I should have thought. ‘To save the Realm.’

  Chapter 31

  Warlock, her team, Councilor Peng and I downloaded all we knew or suspected about the Empress’ Constabulary. The information was placed in one of the Recon pods and the pod was programmed to follow Tuulia’s route. Once in the Uno sector, it would begin to broadcast a beacon. Hopefully, a passing ship would discover it and the information. This way, if we fried, the Galactic Council Realm would have an historical record from us. Historical because, the pod would take fifty years to reach the Uno sector.

  “Recon pod is away,” I announced as the long tube slid out of the DS, “Stand by for External evolution.”

  The ion mushroom cap formed quickly thanks to the addition of the larger cannons. Once fully formed, it collapsed back and enveloped the Deep Space GunShip in a yellow cocoon. Outside the ion cocoon, the violent star spewed energy into space. Temperatures climbed to rock melting levels and the angry star shot out arms of bright plasma. Anything in the path of those limbs was broken down to its most elemental levels.

  As stated in the law of conservation of energy: energy can be neither created nor destroyed. It can only change forms. Unfortunately, a changed ‘form’ wouldn’t be good for us.

  The star wouldn’t even notice the miniscule amount of fuel added to its system by atomizing us. But, neither would we.

  Total time in the hot zone was twenty-nine days. I slept alright for the first eleven days as the DS approached the angry red ball. By day twelve, when we entered the zone where any disruption in our area would be the end of us, I’d taken to sleeping in the cockpit. For the next seven days, I stayed in the pilot’s chair. I didn’t know why. A Coronal Mass Ejection would snatch us so quickly; I wouldn’t have time for evasive actions. It just felt proper for me to be at the helm.

  On day eighteen, I stood up from the pilot’s chair.

  “Stone Angel, you have the Bridge,” I said giving the Striker a weak smile.

  “Aye, J-Pop, I have the Bridge,” he replied, “Are we safe?”

  “We’re out of reach for any broad eruptions,” I explained, “It would need to be a direct strike on us to do harm at this distance. So no, we’re not safe, but we have a chance.”

  “Get some rest,” he said passing me, “We’ll be fine.”

  On day twenty-nine, I breathed out and let a smile break the worried lines on my face. We needed to evolve and get a bearing on our location.

  “Stand by for Internal evolution,” I announced, “Strap in.”

  The clocks matched and the powers evened out and the DS smoothly transitioned to Internal drive. I began a power scan as soon as the yellow ions cleared from my screens.

  “Navy GunShip, identify yourself,” a voice came over the radio.

  “Council Vessel 48,” I replied, “Please identify.”

  There was a long pause before the voice responded.

  “This is Galactic Council Navy Frigate, Reina de la Adosinda,” a new voice responded, “Am I to understand you have a Galactic Councilor on board?”

  “Aye, Councilor Shi Peng is on board,” I stated, “I am requesting your position.”

  “Stand by, 48,” the voice ordered. He didn’t sound convinced.

  A Navy Frigate doesn’t have Fighters or Bricks. All of her flight assets are composed of a few GunShips, several Yachts and a couple of Patrol Boats. So she couldn’t put out a defensive screen to be proactive in the case of a suspect ship. What she did have were gun, torpedo and missile batteries around the ship. Any unwanted vessel approaching would be targeted and fired upon. With a Frigate, you got permission to come aboard or you didn’t get near her.

  A hand touched my shoulder. I turned to find Councilor Peng stepping into the cockpit.

  “I believe the ship is commanded by Captain Qiang,” the old man said with a smile, “Not only is he Clan, I had a hand in appointing him the command. Ask for him by name.”

  “Navy Frigate, this is CV 48,” I radioed, “Please put Captain Qiang on the radio.”

  “Stand by 48,” the voice said wi
th a hint of disrespect.

  They really didn’t believe a Galactic Council Navy ship had cut across the violent star. I could respect their suspension as it was a route to be avoided. So any ship coming from the sector was untrustworthy until proven otherwise. Add to that, the ship claiming to have a Councilor of the Galactic Council on board and you could see their trepidation.

  “This is Captain Qiang,” a new voice crackled over the radio. “To whom am I speaking?”

  I decided to step out of the middle so I handed Shi Peng the mic. Almost as soon as they began speaking, the Frigate’s location hit my computer. I guess the Captain recognized the Councilor. Things moved fast and I headed the DS towards the big warship while they were talking.

  Ten hours later, after a short run on External drive, I called the Reina de la Adosinda.

  “Combat Control, this is Councilor Vessel 48,” I radioed, “Requesting permission to enter the recovery tube.”

  “Councilor Vessel, permission granted,” a voice called, “and might I add sir, it’s an honor to assist you.”

  I’d been here before. The ceremony and boot licking and butt kissing was about to begin. For a few more minutes, I’d be the most recognized pilot in the sector. After our intake and the departure of the Councilor, I’d revert to being just another GunShip pilot.

  “Warlock, I want two Strikers with the Councilor until proper security can be arranged,” I called over my shoulder as the DS lined up with the tube.

  “Are you expecting trouble, Lieutenant Piran?” Shi Peng asked from the seat behind me.

  “No Sir, but the Galactic Council Realm is at war,” I said leaning around to look at the old man’s eyes, “Even if the Navy doesn’t know it, yet.”

  “An astute observation,” Councilor Peng replied, “As you suggest, we should be on guard.”

  “How much security are you looking for?” Warlock asked.