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Rise of Nimrod Fleet (The Contingency War Book 3)

Page 11

by G J Ogden


  Eventually, even Adra’s strength failed, and she released her grip, letting the body of Warden Holx drop to the deck. She stared down at the Warden’s face for a few moments, looking into the now vacant and bloodshot eyes, but she felt no remorse or sadness. She knew that Holx did not deserve such an inglorious end, but he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had seen too much to be allowed to live. He was a casualty of war, and he would not be the last.

  Adra straightened her uniform and fastened the button on her coat, before passing through the airlock hatch to her War Frigate and sealing it behind her.

  NINETEEN

  Taylor silenced the wailing damage alerts and then rushed over to the mission ops console, catching the back of James’s chair as the ship shuddered and shimmied for a third time since taking the hit.

  “I’m going to have to throttle back, Commander S,” Casey called out from the pilot’s station, “It’ll fly itself apart otherwise!” She was wrestling with the controls, fighting them hard just to keep the Corvette steady under the strain of flying with imbalanced engines, on top of the numerous other systems that were down because of the attack.

  Commander Sonner glanced at the data on her console and saw that the War Frigate was still closing on their position fast. She pounded her fist on the arm of the chair, “Fly it as hard and as fast as you possibly can, Casey,” Sonner called back, “That frigate is gaining on us every second!”

  “Aye aye, Commander Sarah Sonner,” replied Casey, but this time there was an edginess and unease to her familiar response, rather than Casey’s typical brightness and optimism.

  Sonner sprang out of the command chair to join James and Taylor at the mission ops station, “Tell me some good news...”

  “It’s not a good news day, I’m afraid,” said Taylor, then he pointed to pertinent data on the row of consoles, “The port ion engine is ruptured; nothing our little army of drones can’t fix, but not while the drive is hot.”

  “Damn it, we can’t outburn that frigate with only one engine,” said Sonner, rubbing her temple.

  “That’s not our biggest problem,” said Taylor, ominously. Then he pointed to another console screen. “The attack damaged the main energy systems, and the power blip caused the computer to cycle. Our nav calculations were screwed up in the process, which means we have to compute the jump again.”

  “How long?” said Sonner.

  Taylor leaned away from the consoles and met her eyes, “Too long.”

  Sonner nodded. If they couldn’t jump away before the frigate got within range then they needed to improvise a way to stay out of its grasp for long enough to make the calculations.

  “I’m stealing computer power from anywhere I can,” said James, not taking his eyes off the screens as his hands flashed from one panel to another. “But it will still be a few more minutes.”

  “We don’t have a few minutes,” said Taylor.

  “Then we’ll have to buy you some time,” said Sonner, and she stepped back into the center of the bridge, with Taylor sticking by her side. “Casey, how long do you think you can evade that frigate?”

  The deck plating shuddered as Casey grappled with the controls again, “If we slow to thrusters only, maybe for a minute, two at the most,” said Casey, “but with this thing kicking like a bucking bronco, if I keep the engines hot for much longer, they won’t need to bother taking us out.”

  “Damn it, we can’t have come this far only to fail now,” cursed Sonner, “I need some genius suggestions, and I need them now.”

  “What about turning back?” suggested James. “We could try to hide in the debris field.”

  “Assuming we can get there, it will take away their advantage of speed,” said Casey, brightly, “that ugly brute is fast, but it’s about as nimble as a dumpster truck.”

  “No use, I’m afraid;” said Taylor, “even if we could make it back there before they catch us, they’ll just incinerate the entire damn debris field, with us in it.”

  “Okay, so what about using your party trick?” said Sonner, “You go back into the Fabric and overload their engines.”

  “I could try,” answered Taylor, though Sonner could tell there was a ‘but’ coming, “but Provost Adra knows about my abilities now. She’ll assume we’ll try that and be ready to purge the signal.”

  “What happens if she does that?” asked Sonner, growing more frustrated and more desperate.

  “Honestly, I don’t want to find out,” said Taylor, “Likely you’ll still be stuck here, but without a Captain Taylor Ray.”

  Casey glanced over her shoulder at the two command officers, “They’ll be on top of us in thirty seconds,” she shouted. “Whatever you’re gonna do, do it fast!”

  Sonner clenched her fists, and peered into Taylor’s eyes, “Okay Mr. ‘I hate being pessimistic’, what’s your brilliant solution?”

  Taylor’s silver eyes brightened a little, and then he said, “We surrender.”

  Sonner was so taken aback that she actually laughed in his face, before the gravity of the situation restored her stoicism, “I wish I hadn’t asked,” she said, shaking her head.

  Taylor noticed that Casey and James were now looking at him too, both wide eyed. “I don’t mean actually surrender,” he said, eager to placate his audience before they turned on him. “We stop, blow out some coolant, make a show of being in a far worse state than we actually are. Then we fly the white flag, get this Provost Adra on the viewport and let her enjoy her moment of glory. Let her gloat, let her threaten us, let her think she has us.”

  “And then when the clock runs down on the jump computer, we vanish before her very eyes! Got it!” said Sonner. Then she smiled, “Whatever they stuck in that cranial unit of yours, I’m glad it’s still working.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t call it that,” said Taylor, scowling at her, “and I know it’s a gamble, but it’s the best chance we’ve got.”

  Sonner dashed to Casey’s side, “You heard the Captain, make us look like we’re in trouble.”

  “I’m doing a pretty good job of that already, Commander S!” laughed Casey, somehow still managing to see the bright side, “But sure; one floundering fish act, coming right up!” Casey cut power to the one functioning ion engine and pulsed the thrusters, sending them into a multi-axis spin, before steadily bring the Contingency One back under control and venting some coolant for added effect.

  Sonner stepped into the center of the bridge and stood in front of the command chair, and Taylor followed, standing just behind her and to her right. She straightened her uniform and ran her fingers through her shoulder-length chestnut hair, which only reminded her of how badly it needed brushing and washing. Then she glanced at Taylor, “How do I look?”

  Taylor’s eyes widened slightly, like a startled rabbit. He was stuck between giving an honest answer, or attempting a convincing white lie. He opened his mouth to speak, but Sonner had already changed her mind.

  “On second thoughts, zip it, Captain, I’d rather not know.” Taylor closed his mouth and glanced sheepishly at Casey who, as he’d predicted, was peeking over her shoulder and smirking at him. Taylor didn’t mind; he knew he’d just been let off the hook.

  “Send a message to the Hedalt frigate,” said Sonner, straightening up and pressing her hands together at the small of her back. Taylor was reminded again of just how tall she was when not slouching. “Tell them we wish to discuss the terms of our surrender.”

  Taylor’s cat-like hearing picked up James’s dry, hard swallow. He punched a few controls on his console and then spun his chair around to face the viewport. “Message sent, Commander. Three minutes until jump calculations are complete.”

  “Keep the jump engines spooled up, Casey,” said Sonner, as the comm system bleeped cheerfully in the background, sounding like the ring on an ancient cell phone. “Let’s be ready.”

  “Aye aye, Commander Sarah Sonner,” Casey replied, though her cheery response tailed off towards the end as sh
e caught sight the massive War Frigate swooping down on them like a ravenous bird of prey.

  “I hope this crazy plan of yours works...” said Sonner under her breath so that only Taylor could hear.

  “The valiant never taste of death but once,” said Taylor, also keeping his voice low, but still delivering the line in the most thespian-like way he could manage.

  Sonner raised an eyebrow and glanced back at him, “I’m afraid I was always more of a fan of murder mysteries and epic fantasy.”

  “It means we can hold our heads up high, whatever happens,” said Taylor. “Or, at least I think that’s what it means.” Then he frowned and looked at Sonner as if checking that she hadn’t suddenly morphed into someone else. “Epic fantasy? Seriously?”

  Sonner scowled, but didn’t have time to answer, because suddenly the image on the viewport switched to show the face of Provost Adra. The magnified image did nothing to soften the appearance of her steel-gray skin or the burrowing intensity of her jade-green eyes.

  “I am Commander Sarah Sonner of Earth Fleet,” said Sonner, delivering the line with more presence than Taylor imagined he would have done in her shoes.

  “There is no Earth Fleet, human,” Adra snapped back, “and soon, whatever ships you have managed to hide from us will be gone too. Along with the remains of the human pestilence, and your new simulant pets.”

  “I wish to discuss the terms of our surrender,” Sonner continued, maintaining her composure, despite the savage response from the Provost.

  The corner of Adra’s mouth curled up almost imperceptibly to create a darkly sinister smile. “Do not insult me, human,” she replied, “your ship is not nearly as crippled as you make out.” Taylor could hear James’s dry swallow again. “Your jump engines are already spooled up, and so the only reason you have not jumped is that you are not yet able to.”

  Taylor’s eyes flicked from the screen to Sonner; remarkably, she didn’t flinch, but she also didn’t respond. Taylor understood why; there was nothing to say. Their bluff had been called.

  “Before I destroy your engines and board your ship, I want you to see something,” said Adra, each word cutting into them like a razor. “I want you to see it now, while you still hold out some futile hope of escape.”

  Sonner looked at Taylor, and he could see the first cracks in her armor were appearing. She was looking to him for another wild or brilliant suggestion; another crazy plan that would somehow pay off. But there was only one option left; he would have to enter the Fabric and attempt to disable the frigate, despite the risk to himself if Adra was ready in wait with the purge. Whatever spark of humanity still remained in the glint of Taylor’s silver eyes was enough to communicate his intentions to Sonner.

  Taylor took two paces back, trying to mask his departure so as not to raise suspicion, but then the image on the viewport drew back, and Taylor froze. Standing beside Adra were two other figures; one was a faceless simulant of the kind that Taylor had seen on Adra’s ship before, but the second was not. The second was the simulant form of Satomi Rose. Taylor stared at her on the viewport, numb to what was going on around him. Then shock quickly turned to fear, followed by desperation, before all these emotions condensed into one defining reaction: anger.

  Taylor advanced towards the screen with the foolish notion that he could somehow reach in and pull Satomi away from the cruel grasp of Provost Adra, and for the first time he brought his own image into Adra’s line of sight.

  “You’d better not harm her!” Taylor spat.

  Adra’s granite-like stare became even more hateful, “I will enjoy dissecting your inferior little brain, simulant,” she seethed, “almost as much as I will enjoy doing this.” Then Adra clasped her hands to either side of Satomi Rose’s head and with one swift, brutal action, tore the cranial unit off the simulant frame. The body fell and then Adra held the head up to the viewport, presenting it like a trophy.

  “No!” Taylor roared, and then he ran to the viewport, as if it would bring him closer to Satomi. As if in some way he could still help her. Taylor wanted to lash out at Adra, to tell her that he’d stop her, and even that he’d kill her, but his simulant body was numb to the rage he felt, and his rational mind knew that such threats were empty and meaningless. He could not stop Adra now, any more than he could save Satomi Rose.

  He glanced across to Casey and saw that the light in her eyes had died. Where she was an almost persistent beacon of joy and life, like a burning star at the center of a solar system, she now looked as blank and soulless as the decapitated head of Satomi Rose.

  Provost Adra tossed the head away and the image on the viewport enlarged on her face once again, “Now, human, surrender and you may survive a little longer. Refuse, and I will open your tiny ship to space and watch as you bloat and suffocate. Your simulant pets are all I need to discover the location of your hidden bases, and turn them to ash.”

  “Go to hell, Hedalt,” Sonner spat back. “If we’re going down, then we die fighting.”

  Taylor spun around and looked into Sonner’s eyes; where he had buckled, Sonner had held strong, and he knew what she intended to do. It was all they could do now. He dropped into the seat at the tactical console and shunted every remaining joule of energy to the weapon systems.

  “Ready to fire on your order, Commander,” said Taylor, locking their cannons and turrets onto the enormous hull of the ship that loomed over them like a storm cloud.

  Adra snorted, “So be it, human. It will be more satisfying this way.”

  Suddenly there was a piercing screech, sharp enough to cause Sonner and James to wince, but the noise was not coming from their own systems, it was coming through the audio channel connected to the frigate. Whatever it was had distracted Adra’s attention, and caused Adjutant Lux to move briskly to her side. In comparison to the domineering figure of the Provost, Lux looked pale and sickly. But as Lux spoke quietly into Adra’s ears, Taylor noticed something else; something he’d not seen before. There was a hint of concern in the Provost’s eyes. Whatever this siren indicated, it was not good news for the Hedalt. And what was not good for Provost Adra, could only be helpful for them.

  Taylor glanced down at his console and tapped into the feed from the jump computer. There was just over a minute remaining, and the jump engines were still spooled and ready. We might get out of this after all! Taylor thought. Come on Taylor, glass half full, glass half full...

  Sonner appeared beside Casey and rested a hand on her shoulder, but Casey’s own hand was already hovering over the jump initiator.

  Less than a minute, come on! Taylor thought, urging the computer to work faster.

  Then without so much as a word or even a scornful look back at them, Provost Adra turned away from the viewport and the image switched back to the external view of the War Frigate. Taylor could hardly believe his eyes. “They cut the transmission!”

  “Casey, how long before we can jump?” said Sonner, breathlessly.

  “Twenty seconds,” said Casey. Her hand was now barely a few millimeters above the jump initiator, yet as steady as a surgeon’s thanks to her unflappable simulant frame. “Jump engines are primed.”

  “Any indication they are about to fire?” asked Sonner, turning to Taylor. The urgency in her voice was almost unbearable.

  Taylor scanned his panel, “No, their weapons are powering down, and...” he stopped mid-sentence as the massive ship on the viewport suddenly turned away from them and ignited its ion engines. His next words sounded unreal, even though they were the truth, “and they’re leaving!”

  “What the hell is going on?” said Sonner, “They had us. They had us cold.”

  “That’s a question for another time,” replied Taylor, almost laughing, “But for now, let’s get out of here, before that sadistic lunatic changes her mind!”

  Casey did laugh and then pressed the jump initiator. “Buckle up, guys!” she shouted, and then started to spin around and around in her chair, crossing one leg over the other and
placing her hands behind her head.

  “Jumping in five...

  ...F o u r

  ...T h r e e

  . . . T w o

  . . . O n e

  TWENTY

  Provost Adra turned her back to the viewport, severing the communications link to the rogue Hunter Corvette. Her appearance suggested calm and control, but this was merely a well-practiced façade. Under the surface she was ready to tear the bridge apart with her bare hands. A Priority One command had to be obeyed. Without question. Without delay. Not to do so would at best lead to her incarceration and at worst to her execution. And Adra knew to always expect the worst.

  “Acknowledge the Priority One and jump to the specified co-ordinates,” Adra ordered. She glanced back at the diminutive Corvette on the viewport, cowering helplessly beneath the shadow of her frigate. If she could not have it, she wanted it out of her sight. “And get us out of range of that ship.”

  Adjutant Lux hesitated, at once stunned by Adra’s order, but also aware of the consequences should they not answer the Priority One. “Yes, Provost Adra,” he answered, before jolting the primary pilot simulant on the shoulder to execute the command. But instead of turning back to his station, he peered up at Adra, willing her to give him another order. He could not believe that she would simply let them go.

  Adra did not meet Lux’s eyes. Instead, she remained perfectly still, composed and centered, burying her more violent and wrathful feelings deeper beneath her steel-grey skin. But not far enough to lose touch with them completely; she did not want to let them go. There would come a time when she would allow all of her rage to be unleashed, without restraint. But now was not that time. For now, she had no choice but to release the rogue Hunter Corvette from beneath her talons.

  As she watched her prey shrink ever smaller on the viewport, she realized the anger she felt was as much directed towards Warfare Command as it was to the rogue ship and crew. Ironically, the Priority One was almost certainly a trivial matter. Just a petty racketeer skirmish or a raid on an insignificant outpost; Adra’s frigate simply had the misfortune of being closest. But the severity of the crime was irrelevant. Warfare Command dealt with all lawless acts with the same extreme prejudice, no matter whether it was the theft of a piece of fruit or an entire cargo ship full of fuel. As such, every racketeer raid, no matter how small, was a Priority One. Adra had believed in this policy without question, until now.

 

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