It was Haldryn’s turn to scoff. “Negotiate? We don’t need to negotiate. When the balance of my fleet arrives, it will destroy what remains of your force—end of story. Besides, what do you have to negotiate with?” Everyone knew the answer to that question but Haldryn simply wanted to hear Carr grovel.
“Look, this doesn’t have to play out this way.” Carr fidgeted and glanced sideways over to Sanchez. “Let the remaining Union ships refuel and withdraw from the system. Sanchez and I will act as hostages against any further Sarissan military action.”
Haldryn laughed. “You’re either a fool, or you think me one. No government would hesitate to sacrifice the lives of two people to accomplish their aims. You’ll have to do better than that.”
The two operatives looked at each other and there seemed to be some discord between them. Sanchez said something under her breath, which sounded like “We can’t do this,” as her comrade wiped a hand over his face in frustration.
Carr rallied with a new proposal. “We both know you want this ship for its stealth tech, so here’s the deal. We will contact the Union task force and I’ll negotiate their withdrawal. When they’re safely away, we’ll dock with your vessel and turn the ship over.”
Haldryn’s heart beat faster as he knew he was closer to having his way. “And how do I know you won’t engage your stealth and escape as soon as your comrades are safely away?’
“You have my word.”
The fleetmaster leaned back in his chair. “Not good enough.”
Carr broke communication after he and the pilot started to have another disagreement.
“Fleetmaster, this is a deception,” declared Captain Rhaab in her deep voice, without even looking around at her superior. “We must be very careful here.”
Haldryn snickered. “How could a small ship like that possibly harm the Wrath? Rhaab, just think of that ship’s stealth capabilities integrated into this vessel. Why, it staggers the imagination.”
She was unconvinced. “Sub-lieutenant Gullan, how many lifesigns aboard that ship?”
“Two, ma’am.”
Haldryn leaned forward and whispered into her ear. “What’s the matter, Rhaab? Do you think they have a brigade of troops aboard, ready to storm our ship once they get the opportunity?”
That prompted her to twist around and face him. “No, but they could have some other type of trick, like an explosive device. Please do not be overconfident, my Lord.”
That thought seemed to give the fleetmaster some concern, but only for a moment. “Carr doesn’t strike me as the suicidal type, but I appreciate your caution, Captain. As you advise, we will be careful.”
Carr came back on the comm channel. “OK, Haldryn, what about this? We dock our scout in your ship. I come to your bridge and contact the Union commander. My colleague Sanchez will remain aboard the scout with her finger on a command button that will destroy the stealth system of this vessel if you try anything funny. Believe me, you won’t be able to learn anything if she gives that command—everything will be completely fried. After the Union fleet leaves Sol safely, we turn the ship and ourselves over to you.”
“And what if she destroys the stealth system after your fleet is safely away? Or commands the ship computer to do it later?”
“You’ll have us as hostages against that. Our lives are forfeit if we double-cross you,” declared Carr. “You have my word.”
This time it was the Rhuzari’s turn to break the connection. “Balasi, have a squad of Black Caps ready in Docking Bay Two. Captain Rhaab, drop the shields to allow their scout entrance, then reactivate them once they’ve docked.”
The fleetmaster turned back to the screen. “We have an arrangement, Carr. Proceed to Docking Bay Two. Our bridge will direct you. Haldryn out.” He sat back in his seat with a pleased look on his face, absent-mindedly letting his index finger rub over the scar on his cheek.
“The Black Caps are ready, Fleetmaster,” reported Balasi a few minutes later. “Sir, are you seriously going through with this?”
Haldryn winked and flashed an uncharacteristic grin. “Actually, Balasi, yes—yes, I am. What are a few Union ships compared to gaining their stealth technology? Let them go home and tell tales of what happened in the Sol system. It will demoralize their people.”
“And Carr and Sanchez?”
“After the technology has been secured from their vessel, we will execute them as spies.”
* * * *
About fifteen minutes later, Kestrel came to a rest in Docking Bay Two of the Rhuzari war-titan. The hanger itself was bigger than some of the smaller warships employed by the Union, short-ranged corvettes, for example. As Kestrel’s engines disengaged, the Black Caps surrounded the scout, waiting for the hatch to open and Carr to walk out.
The lieutenant in charge of the squad was connected to the bridge by a neural interface, so the command staff saw everything he was seeing. The squad waited—and waited, as Kestrel just sat there.
“Sub-lieutenant Gullan, scan that ship with everything we have,” ordered an increasingly uneasy Captain Rhaab.
The well-trained officer worked his controls. “It looks all clear, ma’am. Still showing two lifesigns aboard and no other significant activity.”
Rhaab turned toward Haldryn and Balasi. “Of course, it is a stealth ship. They could be hiding things from us.”
Balasi started to say something, but he was cut short by Kestrel. The outer and inner hatches of the small ship slid open. A smile came to Fleetmaster Haldryn’s face, but slowly faded as nothing more transpired.
“Black Caps,” he barked, “enter that ship and report!”
As the elite forces moved to board the vessel, the Imperial Wrath’s bridge watched on a viewscreen. Kestrel was small, so the Black Cap leader didn’t have to go far to investigate matters. In the front of the main cabin was the command area and the Black Cap leader could see the back of the heads of two people sitting in the pilot and co-pilot chairs, but they hadn’t turned around to face him.
On an order from the squad leader, a pair of Black Caps advanced and spun the chairs around. They held two men, both bound and gagged. On the bridge, High Captain Balasi turned pale as he spoke a name: “Sandu.” No one recognized the other man, who was in fact Bakkoan Police Corporal Kees.
“Release them,” ordered the squad leader.
On the bridge, Captain Rhaab jumped to her feet. “Gullan! Erect a force-field around that docking bay—now!”
Gullan wasn’t quick enough. The explosion ripped through the hanger and ate into the surrounding compartments. Dozens were killed instantly, blown to dust by the blast. Others suffered along the way to their death, being burned or crushed or sucked out into the vacuum of space. The entire ship shuttered mightily.
Haldryn’s bomb, which had been turned against him, set off a chain of secondary explosions that ripped through the ship. Those on the bridge felt the enormous vessel convulse, and then shake again as if she were having a seizure. The Imperial Wrath was colossal and even an explosion of this magnitude could not destroy the ship by itself but the damage was incredible. There was a period of chaos before damage reports began to clarify the picture.
Rhaab’s voice was remarkably composed as she reported to Haldryn and Balasi. “We have massive damage to the ventral hull. Three docking bays are gone, and at least two dozen compartments are open to space—we’re sealing the ones that didn’t self-seal. I’m sure we have well over two hundred dead and even more trapped inside damaged sections.”
A stunned Haldryn was still trying to wrap his mind around what had happened. “So, those two were never on the ship?” he asked to no one in particular.
Balasi thought the question was aimed at him. “My guess is that they were on the surface, remotely controlling the ship and feeding their comm signals through it.”
Haldryn quickly stiffened to compose himself. “Balasi, round up all the Black Caps you can and meet me in the forward shuttlebay.”
As th
e captain rushed off, Rhaab glanced down at a report scrolling across her station screen, frowning as she read the message. “My Lord, engines are off-line. In addition, one shield generator was destroyed and two others have been severely damaged. Right now, we only have aft shields.”
“Captain, do what you can to bring things under control. Reinforcements will be arriving in a couple of hours. I’m going planetside.”
At first, Rhaab thought maybe she hadn’t heard him correctly. “You’re going planetside, sir?”
“Yes, to hold Carr to his word.”
* * * *
Denlora was a wiry young Asian girl. When she and her four companions showed up at Korab’s earlier in the evening to take the foreigners to their ship, Carr thought she looked more like a high school student than a freedom fighter. It turned out he was almost correct—all five of his escorts were students at a small school that was the Bakkoan equivalent of a university.
Korab assured Carr he would be in good hands and besides, it was Denlora’s bunch or no one. The young Underground members certainly didn’t lack confidence. “Don’t worry chief, we’ll get you there,” said Denlora when introduced to Carr. “Besides,” she continued, “I wouldn’t let anything happen to a cute thing like you.” Carr laughed, but out of the corner of his eye, he was sure he saw Sanchez give the girl a dirty look.
In the early morning darkness, as the youngsters stood guard outside Kite, Sanchez and Carr worked inside the vessel to pull off their grand deception. Sanchez had slaved Kestrel’s controls to Kite’s command system and had piloted the other ship by remote. Their video transmission to Imperial Wrath was fed through Kestrel to give the illusion that the two Sarissans were on board.
Once Kestrel started docking procedures with the Rhuzari titan, Sanchez relinquished control to the ship’s own computer with instructions to land, open the hatch, and detonate the explosive package. The opening of the hatch was unnecessary drama, but Sanchez and Carr wanted Haldryn and Balasi to see how they had been deceived—hopefully, just before they died. Call it a bit of vengeance for Susan Mumphrey.
“Kestrel should have blown roughly thirty seconds ago,” said Carr. “Wonder how we did?”
Sanchez nodded. “Let’s find out. Ship, access the nearest Task Force Nineteen picket drone and display data at my station.”
“Acknowledged,” responded Kite’s computer voice, displaying no emotion regarding the loss of her sister. “Drone R-44 accessed. Data at your station, Commander.”
Suddenly, Carr noticed a disturbance outside the ship—someone was shouting. “Ship, give me an external view.”
The images showed Denlora and her four comrades lined up and kneeling on the ground, hands behind their heads. About a dozen Bakkoan greenshirts held guns on them. “You in the ship!” yelled the officer in charge. “Come out now with your hands in the air!” Then, as if an afterthought, he added, “And don’t try to sabotage anything. If something funny happens, these kids all get it, be it now, or a week from now.”
Carr and Sanchez looked at each other and then both unbuckled their safety harnesses and rose from their seats. “Remind me why we decided not to do this from orbit,” said Carr.
“More chance of being noticed, remember? We didn’t want to get caught,” she replied, almost giggling. “Carr, just out of curiosity, how did you get the idea for this plan anyway?”
“It hit me during that whole business of you and Mumphrey thinking Shannon was my wife,” said Carr as he moved toward the hatchway. “It occurred to me that we might be able to use Kite and Kestrel to pull off a similar case of mistaken identity.”
A voice came from outside again. “You in the ship! You have ten seconds to get out here!”
“You know, we could have just taken off,” Carr said opening the hatch.
“Not your style,” answered Sanchez, “nor mine.”
Carr walked outside, raising his hands. “So, when you checked the drone data, what did you see?” he whispered to her. “Did we get them?”
“Well, we didn’t kill them, but we sure clobbered them good.”
29: Attack!
Union cruiser Tempest
Sol System
“Ship, increase the plasma level by six percent and repeat simulation.”
“Level increased. Running simulation. Simulation completed with negative impact.”
Commander Mullenhoff pounded her fist on the work console. “Dammit!” she shouted to no one in particular. Taylin Adams put down the datapad she was working on and rubbed her eyes as David Swoboda passed her the coffee thermos.
“No, no more for me,” Adams said. “If I drink another cup of that stuff I’ll have a hole in my stomach. David, that’s it! We can penetrate those shields by spraying them with your coffee.”
Swoboda finished his umpteenth cup of the stuff. “Actually, that’s the best idea we’ve had so far.”
“I wouldn’t say that in front of the Captain, if I were you,” said Adams. “He probably isn’t—” The door opened and Chaz Pettigrew entered as Adams clammed up. Pettigrew sat down, placed his elbows on the conference table and interlaced his fingers.
“Anything?”
Mullenhoff ignored his presence. “Ship, increase the plasma level by nine percent and repeat simulation.” When the computer sim again failed, the engineer turned to face her commanding officer, remaining silent.
The captain mustered a fatigued smile. “I’m going to take that as a ‘no.’”
“We did have a promising idea about an hour ago,” replied Mullenhoff, “but it would take more energy than even a battleship could generate, let alone a cruiser.”
Pettigrew closed his eyes and rested his chin on his hands. “Marcus Aurelius said that the secret to victory lies in the organization of the non-obvious. We must be missing something.”
“Ya think?” Mullenhoff snapped. “Maybe we could get Marcus in here to show us what that is,” snarled the chief engineer, whose face then turned red. “Wow, I am so sorry. That was completely uncalled for and I apologize, sir.”
Pettigrew shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. “I wasn’t helping. You three have been at it for how long now, five hours?”
“How much longer do we have, Captain?” inquired Adams. Time was running as short as Mullenhoff’s patience. The main enemy fleet was creeping closer on their sprint from Saturn.
“Maybe another two hours. I’ve been in a holo-meeting with the fleet captains. The consensus is that we have no chance of success in attacking the enemy titan if we can’t find a way through their shields. Maybe Parker Knox was right after all.”
Adams flared. “He may have been right in his tactical appraisal, but everything else about that sorry performance was wrong, as wrong as it could be.” Forgetting herself, she poured another cup of coffee and took a drink.
“You’re right about that,” said Pettigrew, “but clearly Knox has some emotional problems.”
Adams swished the coffee around in her mouth, and lacking anywhere to spit it out, she gulped it down. “I know, I know. Attempted mutiny just makes it hard for me to be sympathetic. Speaking of Knox, has anyone checked on him lately, sir?”
“The guard looked in a little while ago and said he was asleep.”
Adams tilted her head, listening to her earpiece as a smile came across her face.
“Good news, Commander?”
“Of a sort. The bridge reports we’re receiving a tight-beam data dump from the scout ship Kestrel, and it’s tagged with the ID codes of the OMI operatives. It’s genuine, sir.”
“This could be the break we need. After they scrub it, have the data sent directly to this station. Maybe the agents discovered something we can use.”
“You know,” said Swoboda, “in all the data that Vespera sent us about the enemy, the thing that amazes me the most is that they’re humans. Where do you think they came from, Captain?”
“Beats the hell out of me, Commander. They might be—”
The frantic voice of Lieutenant Nyondo called over Pettigrew’s comm badge. “Captain, you need to come to the bridge—now!”
Pettigrew got to his feet and rushed out of the compartment. “Keep at it you three!” he yelled as he ran off.
Mullenhoff turned back to her console. “Ship, increase the plasma level by ten percent and repeat simulation.”
* * * *
“It just blew up,” said Lieutenant Rojas.
Pettigrew settled into his command chair. “Do we know what caused the explosion?”
“No, sir.”
The captain crossed his arms and thought for a moment. Could we really have gotten this lucky?
“Is there any indication from any station on this bridge that this could be an enemy trick of some sort? Could they be feeding us false data?”
No one said anything and Rojas turned to his CO. “Everything checks out, sir. There was a large explosion inside the enemy vessel, as well as several secondary explosions.” Rojas listened to his earpiece for a second before turning back to Pettigrew. “Sir, CIC reports that the enemy shields are down.”
“Mr. Rojas, are you absolutely sure of that?”
“Positive. They still have aft shielding, but eighty percent of the ship is showing unshielded.”
Providence had given him an opening. There was no time to formulate a plan and no time for hesitation. As bad as the damage appeared, those shields could be back up soon. He had to act and he had to act now.
“Ensign Davis, fleet channel—on the double!” he ordered. “Commander Adams,” he spoke into his comm badge.
“Adams here.”
“You three drop what you’re doing and report to your stations.”
“What’s go—,” Adams was saying as he cut her off.
“Sir, you’re on with the fleet,” prompted Davis.
“This is Captain Pettigrew. It looks like the Many Gods have given us a break. All ships immediately form up on Tempest and head for that enemy titan at battle speed.”
Adams and Swoboda ran back onto the bridge and sat down at their stations, their faces bewildered upon seeing images of the enemy ship.
Starhold Page 30
