Battle Cruiser

by B. V. Larson

  “I’m not changing my mind, Mom,” I said quietly. “I’m not going into politics. I’m where I belong—in the Guard. They’ve given me a Captaincy. I’m commanding Earth’s one and only battle cruiser, Defiant.”

  She stared. I didn’t think she was really hearing me anymore, but I kept on talking.

  “As you said, no one planned this sequence of events. I feel—no, I know that I can serve Earth better in space than I can by sitting in some dusty building on the surface, holding endless meetings and giving speeches. I’m commanding the greatest ship in history. A ship that’s needed to defend Earth right now.”

  Finally, her mind seemed to kick back on. “William,” she said urgently. “You don’t know what you’re saying. If your father doesn’t recover—”

  “Yes, I know. House Sparhawk will lose their seat in the Ministry.”

  “How can you stand there and say that? You sound as if it doesn’t even matter to you!”

  “It does Mother. It really does. But I can’t live my life waiting for Father to die. I don’t want his job in any case. I don’t think I ever did.”

  “But…but Will…we can’t have another clone. You’re it. Another clone would be illegal, and too young…”

  “That’s right, Mom. There’s no time for another clone. If Father dies, we’ll lose the seat, or…”

  “Or what?” she asked with sudden hope in her eyes.

  “Or, you could run for the seat. You could try to recapture our glory. You could garner sympathetic votes and continue the legacy.”

  “I don’t know how to run a campaign!” she shouted with sudden vehemence. “I only know how to govern—to support your father. That’s all I know. You’re pushing your entire family off a cliff in order to pursue a juvenile fantasy of heroism!”

  “No mother, it’s no fantasy.”

  “Tell me then! Tell me what you’re doing up in space right now!”

  I wanted to explain it all. I really did. But my orders were not to discuss my mission. My service to Earth had suffered several mishaps today, and I felt I could ill afford another.

  “I can’t tell you about my mission,” I said, “but I can tell you I’m engaged in a matter of the utmost importance to Earth.”

  She stared at me, her eyes narrowed to slits. “Father spoke of this—before he succumbed to the poisons. He said something about an exploratory mission. They offered you a command and a heroic mission, didn’t they? We must have more vicious enemies in the Ministry than I would ever have believed. They’ve done the impossible. They’ve brought down House Sparhawk.”

  “I assure you, Mother, that isn’t true. I’ll explain it all when I can. Until then, take care of Dad and…”

  I stopped talking because the screen had transformed back into a mirror again. The face that looked back at me was my own. In all my years, I couldn’t recall my mother ever having hung up on me before.

  After straightening my uniform into crisp lines, I strode determinedly back to the bridge.

  There was work to be done.

  -46-

  When I reached the bridge, there was a throng waiting for me. Commander Durris was at the front of the pack.

  “This is most unusual, Sparhawk,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  He caught sight my rank insignia, and did a quick double-take. Then his eyes drifted back up to meet mine. I was immediately under the impression he hadn’t quite believed in my promotion until now.

  Taking a deep breath, he seemed to recover. “Captain,” he said, “the ship is almost fully operational. The techs and the rest of us…we’re at a loss to explain it.”

  I nodded, taking it all in. “This is a Beta ship, Durris,” I said firmly. “The vessel has technological capacities you’ll find surprising. In some ways, it’s quite advanced. In other ways, our tech is superior. What matters now is if she’s ready to do battle. The Stroj will be here in approximately thirty-nine hours.”

  “We have less time than that, sir,” he said. “We’ve got to go out and meet them. CENTCOM briefed me on that point earlier.”

  “They did, did they?” I asked. “Why can’t we prepare now and meet them in Earth orbit?”

  “CENTCOM is worried that the enemy will launch attacks on our cities if we let them get in too close. We simply don’t know what they’re planning.”

  I didn’t think rock rats were that bloodthirsty, but then I was only here to run one ship, not the war.

  “Have you got our strategic orders?” I asked. “I was only ordered to get to this ship and man it immediately. I don’t have a tactical battle plan in my hands.”

  Durris handed over a computer scroll. I read it carefully. He was right. We’d been directed to meet the enemy as far from Earth as possible.

  Durris didn’t elaborate on why he’d been briefed on command matters regarding Defiant, but I thought I knew the truth.

  “Tell me, Commander,” I said, “were you briefed at CENTCOM by Admiral Halsey?”

  He met my eyes. “Yes, as a matter of fact I was.”

  I nodded. He was one of Halsey’s men. Despite that, I’d begun to like him. Sure, he’d had a high level advocate pulling to get him aboard this ship. Another Captain must have also been groomed to take command. That hadn’t worked out for Halsey or Durris.

  Some men might have been angry and resentful about their plans going awry, but he didn’t seem to be openly obstructing me. He was surprised, yes, but he wasn’t undermining me or being snide. He was a good guardsman in my estimation for these reasons alone. The very opposite of a man like Singh.

  “Excellent,” I said. “I’m glad you’re up to speed on the situation. The Guard did something right sending you here to help me.”

  Durris blinked once then nodded, accepting the unexpected praise.

  “I’ve looked over the roster,” I said. “I want you to be my first officer. Do you accept this appointment?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Good. I’m replacing the helmsman, however. Rumbold will fly the ship.”

  He cleared his throat.

  “What is it?”

  “Normally, sir, a ship of this class would have an officer at the helm.”

  “Good point,” I said, “I’ll put in a formal request to commission him—if we should be so fortunate as to survive this mission.”

  That wasn’t what he’d meant, but he didn’t press the issue.

  “Now,” I continued, “Yamada will run the sensors, but I need a good man on strategic navigation and communications. Can you do cover both of those as your bridge post?”

  He frowned.

  “Captain,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at Zye. “The first officer generally operates the tactical consoles.”

  I shook my head. “That doesn’t work for me. I’ve fought two actions with Zye on tactical ops. I’ve got no intention of changing that now. We simply don’t have the time to retrain you. Do you want the navigational post or not?”

  Durris edged closer and lowered his voice. “Do you think it’s a good idea, sir, to have a foreign national running the most powerful weapons in the system?”

  I thought it over for a second or two. Then I nodded.

  “Yes,” I said. “I think it’s an excellent idea. You have to understand, Commander, that Zye knows this ship better than any of us. She’s also the only crewmember who can tolerate all the G-forces this vessel can exert upon a human body.”

  “Excuse me, sir?” he asked in confusion.

  “Never mind. You’ll find out soon enough.”

  I handed him the altered roster. He looked at it dubiously, but then spun around and began hammering out orders. People were up and out of their chairs, switching to new locations. The tech people were banished below decks, where there was still plenty of work to be done.

  All the techs retreated except for Rumbold. He was befuddled by his return to the position of helmsman.

  “I haven’t earned this, Captain,” he told me. “T
ruth is, I’m better at repairing ships than I am at flying them.”

  He was right, but I brushed away his objections.

  “There’s no time to train anyone else, Chief,” I said. “And Zye can’t man every post. I’ll tell you what: if we live, I’ll make you my damage control officer.”

  “That would be fine!”

  “Good, but for now, I need an experienced hand on the tiller. Can you do it?”

  “Sure—at least until Zye flies us into the Sun or something and I pass out again.”

  I patted him on the back, and he took his seat.

  “First Officer Durris, have we got an ETA on Yamada and Sergeant Morris?”

  “Yes sir. I got confirmations while you were off the bridge. They’ll be here in less than an hour.”

  “All right then, let’s go over our ordnance. What have we got in the hold? Are the batteries fully charged?”

  We got down into the nuts and bolts after that, going through scrolls depicting lists of numbers. The needed materials were flowing aboard now. The biggest problem came in the missile department.

  “Our birds simply aren’t compatible with the tubes and magazines on this Beta ship,” First Officer Durris complained. “We’ve got eighty warheads in the forward magazine, thirty in the aft, but we can’t get them onto a delivery system that will fit.”

  “Hmm,” I said thoughtfully. “The team was probably so busy trying to do basic repairs they never managed to solve that technical problem.”

  “I’ve got an idea, Captain,” Rumbold said.

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “We can turn those warheads into mines with a simple proximity fuse—or a remote detonation receiver. Either way, we can lay them out in front of the enemy in a pinch.”

  Heaving a sigh, I nodded. “Give them both,” I said. “They’ll be better than nothing that way.”

  Looking over the ship’s armament, it came down to three primary elements. The particle cannons were our primary offensive weapons. They had excellent range and killing power. Unfortunately, there weren’t many of them and they had a slow rate of fire.

  Our secondary defenses were essentially point-defense cannons, which I’d used to good effect against Earth’s missiles earlier.

  The last item on the list was the mines. They might turn out to be useless, as the odds of hitting a ship with a mine in space were low. We might as well throw rocks at the enemy ships, hoping to damage them with kinetic force. Still, under the right circumstances, they might be useful.

  Several hours passed, during which Yamada arrived. She looked around with a stunned expression.

  “Welcome aboard, Ensign,” I said.

  “Thank you…Captain?”

  “That’s right. I’ve been promoted and given command of Defiant.”

  She stared for a few seconds. “I honestly never thought we’d step aboard this ship again. The Admiralty was so annoyed with our tactics…did you know they debriefed me for nine straight hours?”

  “Flag officers don’t like to be embarrassed. That’s what this ship did. We embarrassed them.”

  “Well sir, do you have a post for me?”

  I directed her to the sensor management console. She took her seat without complaint. She looked, in fact, elated to be back on Defiant’s bridge.

  “Connect me with the Admiralty,” I told Durris.

  He tapped for a few moments, then the channel opened. The forward screen displayed a familiar face: that of Admiral Halsey.

  “Excuse me Admiral,” I said. “Captain Sparhawk, reporting in. Would you like a status report on Defiant’s readiness?”

  Halsey’s eyes narrowed as he ran them over the scene around me. Everywhere, people were bustling and working on controls. They were testing, configuring and adjusting settings.

  “Are you on the bridge, Sparhawk?”

  “That’s correct, sir.”

  “How the hell did you get aboard?” he demanded.

  “Through the docking tube, sir.”

  He stared at me, full of suspicion and malice.

  “Never mind, then. We need you out there intercepting the rock rat fleet. What is your status? How long do you need before launch?”

  “We’ll be ready in ninety minutes, Admiral,” I said firmly.

  This caused his eyebrows to shoot up and ride high. “What? Are you joking? That ship was a wreck not—”

  “The ship is self-repairing, sir. Once we managed to gain access, we found most of the systems were operational.”

  “Really? Well, in that case don’t waste any more time, Sparhawk. Get out there and defeat the enemy. Halsey out.”

  “One moment, Admiral,” I said quickly. “We need supporting ships. What can CENTCOM give us? A few squadrons of screening vessels would go a long way to help.”

  Halsey’s expression became predatory. “We’re holding those in reserve.”

  “Reserve for what, sir?”

  “In case the enemy breaks past you. We can’t leave Earth’s skies empty. Our destroyers are on their way back. If you can delay the militia fleet for a day or two, or better yet defeat them, we’ll have our full complement back in orbit to defend us.”

  I sat in stony silence. The other crewmen around me had fallen quiet as well. All of us had been assuming this would be an all-out effort. Putting the fleet into a single powerful force would meet the enemy with the greatest possible strength all at once. Instead, it appeared Halsey planned to use us as a distraction to buy time.

  “I assume, sir, that you’ve got CENTCOM ops right now?”

  “That’s right,” Halsey said. “Admiral Cunningham is off for the night. You’ve got to deal with me, and I’m telling you to get out there and stop those miners.”

  I realized my ship was expendable to Halsey. In his mind, the real fleet was centered round the destroyers. Until they returned to Earth, the planet was vulnerable as far as the Admiralty was concerned.

  That was a generous interpretation of the situation. A less charitable observer might believe he was hoping I’d be destroyed by the incoming attackers.

  Halsey misinterpreted my hesitation.

  “Come now, Sparhawk,” he said. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a pack of miners! Get out there with that monster ship of yours. I’m sure they’ll turn tail and run when they see you on their scopes.”

  “Thanks for the advice, Admiral,” I said. “I’ll get underway as soon as possible. Sparhawk out.”

  The channel closed, and I sat thoughtfully while everyone worked around me. They were all so busy, and so near, but I felt as if I was a thousand kilometers from all of them.

  In my mind, I was calculating our odds of success. We were going to face an unknown force alone. With luck, we’d smash a few of them and the rest would scatter. But if it didn’t work out that way…

  I reflected that command could indeed be a lonely job.

  -47-

  Shortly after Marine Lieutenant Morris arrived, we prepared to cast off. By that time, we’d loaded all the fuel, power, food and ammunition we would need.

  Zye came to me shortly before launch time with a worried expression on her face.

  “What is it, Zye?”

  “Sir, the holds have been emptied of their original contents.”

  “Yes? Well, we needed the space. We’re carrying warheads, food stuffs, depleted uranium shells for the point defense cannons—a thousand things. What’s the problem?”

  “Do you know what’s become of the children, sir?”

  I froze. Only after a moment’s thought did I grasp what she was talking about. I launched up out of my command chair.

  “Let’s go find out,” I said.

  Zye fell into step behind me without a word. I felt her presence, and her hidden anxiety. To a Beta, the frozen embryos in their steel tubes were infants. I felt I had to respect that—and I needed Zye to be as focused as possible in the upcoming battle.

  We reached the hold within a minute or two. It was true. All the
tubes had been removed. The room was no longer frozen over, either.

  “Spacer,” I called to the nearest man in a blue jumpsuit.

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “What happened to the original contents of this cargo hold?”

  “The alien artifacts? They were removed.”

  “Yes,” I said patiently. “Where did they go?”

  “Beats me, sir. They might have hauled them all into the station. Or, they may have ejected them into orbit. The Chief said they didn’t have any value.”

  I felt Zye’s smoldering presence behind me. I didn’t look over my shoulder to see her reaction. I didn’t have to.

  “Where’s your chief?” I asked the man.

  He led me to his superior. The petty officer in charge looked up in shock when he saw who I was and read the insignia on my collar.

  “Captain! What can we do for you, sir?”

  “You can find the tubes that were here in this hold and assure me they’re being handled with care and respect.”

  His eyes blinked once, then twice before he answered. “Uh…okay. I can try at least. They were pulled out of here to make room for all our equipment. This is a big ship, but the hold is really not as—”

  “Chief,” I interrupted. “I’m on a short timetable. Where are the tubes?”

  “Back on the station, sir. That’s where they went last I saw, anyway.”

  “When were they removed?”

  “About two hours back.”

  I took a deep breath, and I nodded. “Okay. That might not be a disaster. Do you have a manifest? A signature?”

  “Sure, sir. They were handed over to a local trader. He said he wanted them, and he was willing to pay, too. You know how the Guard is always on the lookout for a sucker to sell our junk to.”

  I frowned. “A trader?”

  “His name should be on the manifest—yes, right there.”

  I held up an unfurled computer scroll. By running my fingers over it, I was able to get the document to scroll down to display the final line.

  It turned out to be a bill of lading. The name at the bottom was known to me: Edvar Janik.

  “By God,” I said. “It’s the smuggler.”

  Zye grabbed the document from me, glaring at it without comprehension. “What smuggler?”