by Dietmar Wehr
“Ghost Rider One to all Ghost Riders. Targeting data and jump vectors are being distributed. Time to power up weapons. Ten second countdown to jump starts…now!”
Tyrell Research Station-X:
Torq woke to the sound of an urgent communication tone. The fact that it was the urgent tone confused him. He wasn’t in command of anything other than a research program. What could possibly have happened that required his urgent attention?
“Yes! What is it?” he snarled.
“Duty Officer at prototype scanning pod reporting, Leader-of-Five Hundred! The new system is detecting twelve relatively small objects approaching at a distance of 2.1 light cyclets. The objects are decelerating now down to point two of light. No ships are scheduled to arrive at this time, Leader. Could this be an alien attack force?”
Torq was shocked by the question. Aliens attacking the Tyrell here in the Home system? Such a thing had never happened before, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen. He could think of only two possibilities that would explain this sighting. Either those were alien warships about to attack, or this was some kind of unannounced test. Either way, he needed to do something and fast!
“Keep tracking! I will notify Control that the station should be put on Battle Alert! You have done well!” He was in the process of calling the Control Center when he felt and heard a roar unlike anything he’d ever experienced surge through the walls, floor and ceiling of his quarters. His quarters, which had not been completely dark during his sleep, now was, and he no longer heard any sound from the air ducts. The station had obviously suffered damage from some kind of attack. His warning to Control was now superfluous. Some light did come back on, and he recognized it as the emergency lighting system. He also heard the crackle coming over the loudspeakers that meant a station-wide announcement was about to commence.
“ATTENTION! THIS STATION HAS BEEN ATTACKED AND LIFE SUPPORT HAS FAILED. FURTHER ATTACKS ARE EXPECTED! ALL PERSONNEL ARE ORDERED TO ABANDON THE STATION USING THE NEAREST LIFE SUPPORT PODS.”
As the message repeated, Torq jumped out of his bed and ran for the door. If the station was going to be abandoned, then he had to make sure that the prototype scanning equipment’s data wasn’t lost. Analysis of those 12 small ships might yield valuable information. He couldn’t count on the pod’s Duty Officer to retrieve that data before heading for the life support pods.
By the time he got to the scanning pod, the personnel that had been inside were gone. It was quickly obvious that there was no power here except for the emergency lighting. That meant the data recording equipment was non-functional, but he could still retrieve the most recent data by manually ejecting the cartridge. No sooner had he done that than the station shuddered again. Turning, with the cartridge in hand, he heard the whistling sound that denoted a hull breach in the corridor, the same corridor that he had to use to get to the nearest life support pod, assuming that it was still there and hadn’t been ejected from the station yet.
He took a deep breath and began to run. As he reached the nearest life support pod hatch, he saw the red light indicating that it had ejected. Even as he began to run again, he wondered if he could hold his breath long enough to reach the next pod hatch. As he approached it, he noticed two things. The first was that he was beginning to black out, and the second was that the hatch was still open, which meant the pod hadn’t been ejected yet. With his last seconds of consciousness, he dove into the pod and hit the control that automatically closed the hatch and initiated the ejection sequence. Internal sensors detected the low air pressure and re-pressurized the pod, but he still blacked out. When he regained consciousness a few seconds later, he quickly checked to make sure that the data cartridge had made it to the pod too, and relaxed when he saw that it had. Now all he had to do was wait for the pod to be picked up by one of the rescue teams that were undoubtedly on their way even now.
Ghost Rider One:
Eagleton saw that Ghost Rider One was close enough to one of the moons and the targets orbiting it that he could use the corvette’s micro-wave radar to get a better feel for how much damage had been inflicted. The resulting clouds of debris from several stations were quite satisfying, as were the formations of life pods moving off to safety.
“Okay, Ghost Riders, that second attack seems to have crippled the stations. Let’s head for Zulu3-E and see if we can do this again,” said Eagleton. Just as he was about to swing his corvette around to the new heading, the radar screen showed a small object emerging from one of the stations. Its projected vector would bring it right in front of the corvette’s anti-tachyon cannon. Eagleton quickly confirmed that the object was far enough away that collision was not a risk, but as the object moved closer to the targeting crosshairs, he felt his right hand move to the manual firing trigger as if it had a will of its own. I could fire on that object. It’s probably a life pod with Tyrell survivors inside. They’re helpless, just like the Sheepul in those cities were when death fell from the sky. You wanted payback! Here’s your chance for more! He felt his rage surging again, and his hand was on the trigger. All he needed to do was press down. At the last second, the rage dissipated. The object passed through the crosshairs and continued out the other side. He pulled his hand away. Crippling those stations had already killed some of the enemy. He was certain of that. That was a good down payment on the payback that the Tyrell deserved, but whoever was in that pod hadn’t ordered the bombardment of the Sheepul home world, and Eagleton was willing to let it go. Maybe I should change the name of this bird to Angel of Life and Death. As Eagleton contemplated this, the corvette veered off to its new heading.
Zulu3-E turned out to be devoid of anything worth firing on. Elapsed time so far was 23.5 hours since launch. Eagleton checked the astrogational display and saw that with only a minor detour along the way to check out Zulu3-D, the squadron could take a quick peek at the Tyrell home world. He still hadn’t found out where the Tyrell were building their super-ships in this system. The stations and ground facilities on and around F’s moons had been devoted to something other than shipbuilding. That implied that D was where the ships were being assembled, and it also implied that C was where the completed ships would be orbiting while they waited to be crewed and supplied. If he brought his squadron in on a long arc that passed C just close enough to detect objects the size of super-ships, they could bring back some potentially useful intel with minimal risk of being detected themselves.
“That detour will bring total elapsed time dangerously close to the TFL’s 48 hour limit,” said the co-pilot.
“Not if we micro-jump from C to D,” replied Eagleton.
“I thought micro-jumping was ruled out due to the risk of emerging in a Tyrell ship’s detection radius which would cancel out the element of surprise?”
“Keeping the element of surprise before we attacked made sense, but I’m pretty sure they know someone is rampaging around their home system by now, don’t you think?”
“Ah, yeah, I would say so,” said the co-pilot a bit sheepishly.
“You disseminate this vector change to the squadron while I inform Her Nibs of the situation.”
Harrow re-entered the Flag Bridge just in time to see Eagleton’s second report.
[ZULU3-E DEVOID OF TARGETABLE ASSETS. GHOST RIDER SQUADRON WILL BE MAKING A QUICK PASS OF C AT EXTREME DETECTION RANGE FOR RECON PURPOSES BEFORE JUMPING TO D. REPORTING OF RECON RESULTS WILL BE DELAYED UNTIL SQUADRON REACHES D VICINITY. EAGLETON.]
She sighed as she walked over to the Task Force Astrogation Station. “Any idea why Commander Eagleton decided to jump to D, Shiromi?”
“I may have an inkling. If you’ll pardon me for a few seconds while I do some quick calcs, I should be able to give you a definite answer, Admiral.” With Harrow’s nod, the Astrogator got to work. “Okay, I’ve confirmed my suspicion. The flyby of C will push total elapsed time right up against the 48 hour deadline. Jumping to D will cut total elapsed time by almost eight hours, Admiral.”
Harrow shook her head. “He’s pushing his luck. If D is where they’re building their super-ships, it’s bound to have mobile defense assets, and they’ll have been alerted as a result of the attack on F by now. If the squadron drops into detection range of a ship, they could come under kinetic fire before they realize it.”
“Unless they emerge a good ways back, say thirty light-seconds, then cruise the rest of the way on inertia power. That will still save them a lot of time,” said the Astrogator.
“I hope Commander Eagleton thinks the same way you do, Shiromi.” Harrow tried not to dwell on the possibility that Gort’s eagerness for vengeance would entice him to take unwarranted risks.
It was 13.4 hours later when the plan began to go awry. Eagleton had just returned to the cockpit and settled into his seat when he heard his T.O.’s louder than normal voice.
“We got company! Single ship at five point four light-seconds range! They’re on a slightly converging vector!”
“Is it a super-ship?” demanded Harrow.
“No, sir. Not that large, otherwise we’d have seen it sooner. I don’t think they’ve seen us yet, but if we stay on this vector, we’ll come within detection range in about three hundred ten seconds, Commander.”
“Throw your data up on my number two screen, T.O,” said Eagleton. “Damn, there’s no way to avoid being detected if we slow down, and giving that ship a wide berth will mess up our jump to D.”
“We could leapfrog that bogey,” said the co-pilot.
Harrow was tempted to do just that. Micro-jumping past it would still put them well out of detection range of anything on or orbiting the home world, but they’d be taking the same risk of jumping into another ship’s detection range. While it was possible that this bogey just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time, it was also possible that the home world had deployed a whole fleet of smaller ships to extend detection range around the planet as widely as possible. Was getting that recon data worth having to abort the attack on the shipbuilding facilities at D due to unexpected losses or damage to the squadron from defending super-ships near C if he continued moving closer? For once, his semi-dormant rage and his rational mind were in sync. He wanted to inflict the maximum damage on those shipbuilding assets at D because that would disrupt the enemy’s deployment plans more effectively than maybe damaging a few completed ships that might be easily repaired. His thoughts were interrupted by the T.O.’s voice.
“Less then two minutes until we’re within detection range, Commander.”
“Understood. Okay, we’re going to abort the recon and proceed to D via an intermediate dogleg jump on this same heading. Ghost Rider One to all Ghost Riders. Prepare for a micro on this heading. I’m sending the destination co-ordinates now. Ten second countdown starts…now!”
After arriving at the dogleg jump point, Eagleton ordered the squadron to stand down for a few minutes while he and his Astrogator took a careful look at where the next jump would take them. In relative terms, Zulu3-D was more or less ahead of them, and the two carriers were more or less behind them. If the squadron jumped directly towards D and emerged at a safe distance of 30 light-seconds, it would have to then proceed the rest of the way under inertia drive and would not be able to micro-jump directly back to the carriers after the attack. They would have to jump past D, swing around and then jump back to the carriers. While doable, that strategy seemed to Eagleton to be just too obvious. He decided that they would do it the other way around, jump past D now, swing around, maneuver close enough to attack, then jump in the general direction of the carriers, and if necessary, make a third jump to reach them. That still left a lot of possible jump destinations. After consulting with the Astrogator for almost 10 minutes, an initial rally point was chosen and the co-ordinates transmitted. A few more minutes were spent taking care of the elimination of bodily wastes, a quick bite of food and something to drink, and then the squadron was ready to go.
The first jump went off without a hitch. As the squadron swung around to close on Zulu3-D the slow way, Eagleton confirmed that they were still 29.4 light-seconds out from D. When the range had dropped to just under 12 light-seconds, Eagleton was surprised to hear the T.O.’s voice sooner than expected.
“Big contacts! I got multiple big contacts orbiting one of the moons, Commander!”
“Are you sure, T.O.? We’re still beyond the normal range for detecting super-ships.”
“Oh I’m sure, Commander. These suckers are bigger than your normal, run-of-the-mill super-ship. That’s why we’re seeing them from further away. If I had to guess, I’d say these things are the shipyard complexes that are big enough to hold a super-ship inside.”
“Which means that if we fire at the shipyard, we might also be able to damage any ship that’s inside it at the same time. I love it,” said Eagleton with a grin.
The squadron was now creeping forward at a fraction of light speed in order to react more quickly to new contacts and hold the range if necessary. As soon as it reached 10.1 light-seconds, it would be close enough to detect super-ships that might be orbiting the moon on their own. At that point, Eagleton would assign targets and then micro-jump to 1.4 light-seconds and hope that the corvettes could fire and jump away again before being hit by return fire.
As the range dropped below 10.1 light-seconds, Eagleton heard the T.O.’s voice again. “More bogeys! Looks like six super-ships or something roughly the same mass. Each super-ship seems to be relatively close to one of the shipyards. Close enough that if we tried firing from the one-yard line, we might get in each other’s way, Commander.”
“Let me see it, T.O.” said Eagleton. The data appeared on his number three screen. He nodded. The T.O. was right. Because several of the shipyards, if that’s what they were, were now orbiting around the side of the moon, several of the super-ships were either behind them or partially obscured by them from this angle. In order to get clear shots from the 1.4 light-second range, what the T.O. referred to as the one-yard line, the squadron would have to detour around and come in from the right side. It was a complication that he did not need right now, but he had 12 targets and 12 corvettes, so each corvette would have a different target. He got busy assigning targets and more importantly firing points. Six corvettes could micro-jump straight in to the optimum 1.4 light-second range, and the other six would micro-jump on a slight angle so that they could get a clearer shot at the remaining targets. The downside to that maneuver was that those corvettes would take longer to line up the main armament accurately and would therefore be at higher risk of enemy counter-fire. But he was prepared to take that risk himself, and he would ask for five volunteer crews. He briefly considered designating a rally point where all 12 corvettes would jump to after the attack in order to re-group prior to heading back to the carriers, but discarded that idea when it seemed easier for each corvette to jump directly to the carriers independently of each other.
Five minutes later, the squadron, now divided into two groups, was ready. Eagleton’s group had changed formation into a wall where each corvette was ‘above’ another one separated by a distance of 10 kilometers. That way, each corvette could swing around to the left to line up on its target without colliding with another one. The 10 second countdown to the jump was about to hit zero. Eagleton forced himself to physically relax. For the next few seconds, he would have literally nothing to do. As the timer hit zero, the mass detection screen recalibrated to the new range. The auto-pilot brought the Angel-D around to the left where the T.O. would engage that targeting laser to pinpoint the exact location of their designated target, which was the first of the three shipyards that his group was concentrating on. The anti-tachyon cannon was charged and could be fired the millisecond that it was accurately aimed.
“Laser tracking engaged!” yelled the T.O.
Eagleton remained silent. Acknowledging every report now would only distract the T.O. from his job.
“Okay! Target acquired! Auto-pilot is lining us up! Here we g—“
“FOUR’S HIT! REPEAT, FOUR’S HIT!”
“—iring now!” finished yelling the T.O. Opticals say we got a hit!”
Eagleton disengaged the auto-pilot, took back manual control and initiated a hard turn to the right to get the moon and its gas giant planet out of their jump vector.
“Are we ready to jump?” he asked the co-pilot.
“Ready!”
Eagleton checked his number one screen again. There were only two other corvettes besides his left from his group of six. Eagleton didn’t know if the fifth and sixth corvettes had also been hit or had already jumped away. His instinct was to jump away now, but he felt it his duty to wait until the rest of the group was gone one way or the other. The other group was too far away to detect optically. They were on their own. As the seconds crawled by, one of the remaining two corvettes disintegrated in a spectacular flash of destruction, clearly hit by a kinetic missile travelling at near light speeds. The other vanished into hyper-space a second later. As they were the only remaining member of the group, Eagleton hit the jump button, dispensing with the usual ten second countdown.
