Rise of Nimrod Fleet (The Contingency War Book 3)

by G J Ogden

  “That’s kinda what I’m doing, Cap,” said Casey, grappling with the manual controls while peering into her pilot’s viewport. The ship’s thrusters were working overtime, jinking the nimble vessel in all directions and spinning it on its own axis to avoid flying rocks. Several smaller thuds resonated through the hull.

  “Minimal damage,” shouted James, who was clearly now fully caught up in the moment, to the point where it no longer mattered that it was a simulation, because to him it felt real.

  “Find me an advantage,” Taylor ordered James, and then he twisted his chair back to face Blake Meade, “what about the second cruiser?”

  “It followed us and is tryin’ to match Casey’s insane flight path as best it can,” said Blake, “but it’s takin’ a poundin’.” Then he quickly adjusted the firing pattern of the turrets, all six of which were in constant operation in an effort to cut through the maelstrom of flying debris. “It’s almost in range.”

  “Casey, how are you at flying backwards?” asked Taylor, excitement building in his voice.

  “Same as I am at flying forwards, Cap,” said Casey, “flying’s flying.”

  “Get ready to spin us around and pulse the engines to close to cannon range,” said Taylor. Then to Blake he added, “You’ll get one shot with the forward cannons, make it count.”

  “It’s always one damn shot,” complained Blake, “Why don’t any of your crazy plans ever gimme the chance to shoot more than once?”

  Taylor smiled; it was good to have Blake back again. From the shadows at the rear of the simulator, Sonner was smiling too.

  “Ready...” Taylor cried, “do it!”

  Casey pulsed the thrusters, spinning them to face the pursuing cruiser, and then initiated a controlled burst from the main ion engines to reduce their relative velocity. With scalpel-sharp precision she then adjusted the angle of the ship’s nose to line it up perfectly with where the Corvus cruiser would be once the cannon shells arrived.

  “Blakey, fire on my mark,” Casey called out, “Three, two, one, fire!”

  Blake fired a full burst from the forward cannons on cue, and then everyone watched as the shells cut through space and slammed into the hull of the Corvus cruiser, blowing it apart in a blaze of fire, electrical arcs and twisted metal.

  “Great shot, Blake!” shouted Taylor, jumping out of his seat.

  “Oh, it was nothing...” said Casey, then she looked at Taylor and again put a hand to her mouth in mock surprise, “Oh, sorry, I though you said, ‘Amazing piloting, Casey...’.”

  “That goes without saying!” Taylor replied, smiling, but then three solid punches to the ship’s hull rocked the bridge, forcing Taylor to grab the back of his chair to remain upright.

  “Direct hit!” shouted James. “Moderate damage to aft port-side thrusters and main engine nozzles, starboard turrets inoperative.”

  “Find me that advantage, Mr. Sonner!” Taylor called over. “We need to take out that other cruiser before it turns this asteroid field to rubble.”

  “I have something, I think,” James replied, thought he didn’t sound sure.

  “You think or you know?” Taylor replied, staggering over to the mission ops console.

  James was quiet for a second, “The enemy cruiser is nestled between a cluster of asteroid fragments that appear to contain a highly unstable combination of minerals,” he said, peering down at the information on the screens, “If we can hit this cluster then it could cause a chain reaction that would envelop the ship.”

  “That sounds like an advantage, well done,” said Taylor, slapping James on the back, a little too forcefully due to his simulant strength. “Send the coordinates to Blake and Casey.” Taylor pushed away from the mission ops console as the ship was rocked again.

  “We can’t stay in here much longer, Cap,” shouted Casey. “We’re getting pummeled harder than a journeyman boxer.”

  “Just hang on long enough for Blake to get a shot at those rocks,” said Taylor, practically falling into the command chair, “get close and then give him manual control.”

  “Aye aye, Captain Taylor Ray,” Casey replied, and then began to weave the ship through the increasingly savage hailstorm of rocks and asteroid fragments. “Blake, now’s the time to make good on your bragging. You have control in three, two, one, go!”

  Blake grabbed the manual firing column and was then tied into thruster control so that wherever he aimed, the ship pointed. Another deep thud resonated throughout the hull and alarms rang out.

  “Hull breach!” shouted James over the din, “Cargo hold... it’s contained...”

  “Any time now, Blake!” cried Taylor, but Blake Meade was as still as a crouching tiger and just as ready to strike. He flicked the column in steady movements, lining up the nose of the ship with the target, and then fired.

  The cannon shells sped out ahead and lit up the cluster of rocks that James had targeted, causing an explosion at least ten times more energetic than cannons alone could ever produce. The explosion encompassed adjacent asteroids and began a cascade that raced directly towards the Corvus cruiser.

  “Did we get it?” shouted Taylor. The view port was saturated by a succession of vivid explosions, making it difficult to see whether the enemy ship had been consumed, along with the asteroids.

  James peered down at his console, “Unclear, I’m still detecting a ship out there. It could be damaged.”

  Then the bright flashes died away and the dust began to clear, but through it Taylor could still see the tank-like outline of the Corvus-class cruiser. He checked the console in his chair and slammed his fist down, accidentally denting the arm due to his superhuman strength. “Damn it, it moved away, it must have seen what we were planning!”

  “Smart li’l ship;” said Blake, also checking his screens, “it took some damage, but it’s a tough nut to crack. It’s not outta the fight yet.”

  “And we may have just given it an idea...” said James, ominously.

  The rest of the crew all turned to face him in near perfect synchronization. “What do you mean?” said Taylor, knowing that whatever the answer was, it wasn’t good.

  “Some of the asteroids surrounding our current position have the same mineral composition.”

  Taylor looked to Casey, but she was already looking at him, wide eyed. She didn’t need Taylor to give the order; she knew they had to get out of the asteroid field, smartly.

  “Hang on to your hats!” Casey shouted, pulling the pilot’s view port closer and grabbing the consoles, “This might get a bit turbulent.”

  “Enemy ship’s firin’, Cap!” Blake called out, as plasma shards flashed past, detonating the unstable asteroids that were now vanishing to their aft, thanks to Casey’s quick reactions. The ship shuddered and conduits blew out around them, flooding the bridge with acrid smoke.

  “Minor damage to secondary systems. Repair drones on site,” coughed James. “Enabling bridge vents, now!”

  Taylor’s lack of lungs and simulant eyes meant the smoke had no effect on him, other than to obscure the viewport. He stood and ran up beside Blake, “I’ve had enough of this,” he said, placing a hand on Blake’s back, “Take it down; your discretion.”

  “You got it, Cap,” Blake replied, then he transmitted an attack plan that he’d already been cooking up over to Casey’s console, “Hey, Casey, can you pull that off?” He shouted over to her.

  Casey didn’t look away from her viewport, but gave a thumbs up and shouted back, “Ain’t nothing to it, Blakey!”

  Blake and Taylor glanced at each other, smiling, and then Taylor returned to the command chair. “You have control, Tactical Specialist Meade.”

  Smaller plasma shards from the cruiser’s turrets raked across the hull, causing more conduits to overload, but Casey was now almost clear of the asteroid field and had placed one of the larger hulks of rock between them and the enemy cruiser. She brought their ship to a stop, only meters away from the asteroid’s surface, noting that the enemy crui
ser changed course and tracked to the side in an effort to bring them back into a weapons arc. But Casey had already begun to climb over the asteroid, skimming the surface and keeping the bulk of the asteroid between them and the enemy, which was now aiming its cannons in completely the wrong place. Casey drew her eyes out of the viewport and looked over at Blake.

  “Ready?”

  Blake nodded and took hold of the manual firing controls, with a deftness of touch that belied his inelegant mannerisms and stocky frame, which had not diminished even in simulant form.

  Casey peered back into the viewport and then maneuvered the ship over the top of the asteroid, orbiting it at a velocity that shouldn’t have been possible without crashing into one of its many jagged outcroppings, and brought them out above their enemy, like a bird of prey, ready to swoop on an unsuspecting vole.

  Blake opened fire with the cannons, striking the enemy cruiser on its aft quarter, pulverizing its engines and tearing open the hull. Then as Casey soared above it, he raked the ventral section with turret fire, filling it with more holes than a colander. Micro detonations erupted all across the ship and then a powerful internal detonation ripped it in two.

  James leapt from his seat and whooped, “Yeah, we got it! Woohoo!”, but then looked deeply embarrassed, as the simulator lights blinked on, and the consoles all shut down, leaving only the echo of his exuberant yell lingering in the air.

  Then from the back of the simulator, there came a steady clap, clap, clap.

  “I must admit, that was a very impressive performance,” said Commander Sonner, stepping out of the shadows. “One worthy of a whoop...” she added, winking at her brother, whose cheeks flushed red.

  “How long have you been there?” asked Taylor turning to face her.

  “Long enough to know that this is one hell of a combat crew,” said Sonner. “I wish we had ninety-nine more of you.”

  “No way,” said Blake, climbing out from his station, “one Captain Taylor Ray is enough, and I don’t like the idea of other Blakes runnin’ around the place, either.

  “The human crews will do just fine,” said Taylor, ignoring Blake. “This simulator is good. In fact, it’s way tougher than I expected.”

  “That’s because I ramped the difficulty level up to maximum,” said Sonner, not even attempting to hide her amusement.

  “Well, I hope the Hedalt crews aren’t all as good as these simulated ones,” Taylor replied, failing to see the funny side, “because they won’t all be flying those older Corvus cruisers. And our rust-bucket of a Corvette won’t be much use against the bigger frigates.”

  “Hey, Cap, don’t talk about the Contingency One like that,” said Casey, scowling at him. “I’d take our ship over a War Frigate any day of the week. We’ve gotten the best of those brutes before.”

  “And you will have to again, and maybe even worse,” Sonner cut back in. “Sooner than you think.”

  Taylor’s brow furrowed, “What do you mean? We’re still running the various crews though the simulators, and we’ve yet to start the field trials.”

  Sonner stepped further onto the bridge and folded her arms, “I’m afraid our new commander in chief has others ideas,” she said, now with a cold soberness. “He wants to move on Earth as soon as possible, and using the original battle plans.”

  “He’s gotta be outta his damn mind!” exclaimed Blake. “Those plans’re staler than the Cap’s underpants.”

  Casey let out a bellicose laugh, but Taylor was not amused.

  “That’s one way of putting it,” said Sonner, more than a little disturbed by Blake’s vivid analogy, “but, thankfully, the five of us are quite sane.”

  “What do you have in mind?” asked Taylor, now understanding the reason why she had been lurking this whole time.

  “Collins may be an idiot, but he is the senior officer,” Sonner began, “and he’ll relieve me from duty if I bust his balls any more than I already have been. So we have to follow his dumbass orders, even if they’re the wrong ones.”

  “But...” said Taylor, expectantly.

  “But that doesn’t mean we have to sit on our hands,” said Sonner, “we can still improvise.”

  Taylor’s simulant eyes raised up, “What exactly do you mean by ‘improvise’?”

  A loud laugh from Blake took the place of Sonner’s reply, as he casually strolled up beside Taylor. “She means we’re gonna have to break the rules an’ go rogue,” he said, smiling broadly. Then he sauntered towards the exit, slapping Sonner on the shoulder as he passed. “Maybe I like her after all...”

  TWENTY-NINE

  Astrong aroma of coffee wafted down the central corridor of the Contingency One and distracted Taylor from his intended plan of returning to his quarters to regenerate. He doubled back to the mess hall and poked his head around the corner to see Sonner busy at the counter, though he couldn’t quite see what she was doing, as her back was shielding his view. It had piqued his interest enough to want to nose around some more.

  “If didn’t know better, I’d say you were up to no good,” he said, leaning against the frame of the archway.

  Taylor’s sudden announcement caused Sonner to jump and then yelp in pain. She peered back at him, crossly, “Damn it, Taylor, you made me burn my damn wrist,” she said, shaking her right hand vigorously. “Haven’t you learned how to knock yet?”

  Taylor shrugged and then looked at the open archway. “There’s no door.” Sonner had instructed her drones to remove it when building the mess hall in order to give the space a more ‘communal vibe’, as she had put it.

  “What are you doing here, anyway?” Sonner went on, obviously still cross with him. “You don’t eat.”

  “And you’re grumpy when you’ve not had enough coffee,” Taylor hit back, moving further into the hall. “I assume that’s what you’re doing with that mad science kit you have there?” Taylor was looking at the strange contraption that Sonner had set up on the counter, which looked like a school chemistry set.

  “It’s a coffee siphon, actually,” growled Sonner, “it’s an ancient method of brewing coffee so that it actually tastes good, unlike the crap that comes out of that machine.” She pointed with her scalded hand to the food processor perched on the far edge of the counter. “I brought one with me before I went into stasis.”

  “Glad to see you had your priorities straight…” said Taylor with a whiff of sarcasm, but Sonner had returned her attention to the device and ignored him. Taylor moved closer and studied the elaborate array of glass chambers and what looked like an actual naked flame to heat the water and then just looked at Sonner as if she was a genuine mad scientist. “Seems like a lot of effort just for a hot drink.”

  “Yeah, well, to your simulant taste buds, maybe,” she snapped.

  Clearly, questioning Sonner’s coffee rituals was a subject to be avoided. She finally turned off the flame, waited for the dark brown liquid to filter through into the lower flask and then poured it into a bright red mug.

  Taylor noticed that the mug had letters printed on the side and he shifted position so he could read them. “Keep Calm And Drink Coffee?” he said out loud, reading the words on the mug.

  “That’s what I’m trying to do…” said Sonner, blowing gently over the lip of the mug before taking a few sips, which seemed to have an instant soothing effect on her frayed nerves.

  “So am I now talking to Dr Jekyll instead of Mr. Hyde?” Taylor asked, smirking.

  “Very funny,” said Sonner after another longer slurp, thought she was now notably more relaxed and significantly less snarky. “Your literary references never fail to amuse.”

  “Well, after what you told me earlier, if I didn’t laugh I’d probably cry,” said Taylor, pulling up a chair at a nearby table and sitting down. “Not that I have any tear ducts.”

  Sonner drew up a chair and sat down next to him, stretching out her legs underneath the table and cradling the red mug in both hands, as if it was some kind of sacred artifact. There w
as silence for a few seconds and then Sonner said, “You were right about him. Collins, I mean.”

  “It was a lucky guess,” replied Taylor. He wasn’t surprised that Sonner had admitted this so freely; she may have been stubborn, but she wasn’t prideful. “Or an unlucky guess, as it turns out.”

  “We need to know what we’re dealing with,” continued Sonner, “which means we need to know how well Earth is defended.”

  “Fortunately, I know someone who might be able to help…” said Taylor, knowing full well where Sonner was headed, though he’d come to the same conclusion himself. Despite the growing dangers of him entering the Fabric, both in terms of the personal risk, and the prospect that Provost Adra might track his location and discover their base, he knew he would need to head through the starlight door again. He would need to go to Earth.

  Sonner took another sip of her coffee. “But with our new friend watching me like a foreman, and our old friend in black armor still out there looking for us, it’s not going to be easy.”

  “If it was easy, it wouldn’t be any fun,” Taylor replied, with a rebelliousness that was worthy of Casey Valera.

  Sonner didn’t respond, but Taylor could see in her eyes that she felt the same way. There was silence between them for a few moments, punctuated only by the sound of Sonner sipping her coffee.

  “I meant what I said about your crew,” said Sonner, with more than half the mug already drained. “It’s a truly exceptional team. You should be proud.”

  Taylor sighed, “I don’t think I can really take any credit,” he said, and then he tapped his head, “It’s all in the programming.”

  “It’s more than that, and you know it,” Sonner replied, “The connection you all have can’t be engineered. It’s something special. It’s what makes you human.” Then she smirked, “Well, part robot, part human, anyway.”

  “Thankfully, this robot’s feelings can’t be hurt,” Taylor answered. “Sticks and stones, remember?”

  “I hope you remember that the next time we meet our charming Provost friend again,” Sonner replied, with a teacherly tone, and Taylor returned a conciliatory nod.