Resolve of Steel (Halloran's War Book 2)

by J. R. Geoghan

  “Damage report, Pilot?”

  “The hull sensors report sixty-two breaches ranging from twelve centimeters to sixteen meters in normative diameter. Main engines are online and reactor function appears nominal, however the jumpdrive is offline and the extent of damage is unclear.”

  Halloran fiddled with the comm at his station. “Engineering, report your status.”

  After several repetitions Trigg Wyatt came on the channel. “Sorry, sir, I could hear you but this console suffered damage. We’re here.” He coughed heavily. “We’ve got several shorts that are throwing off sparks.”

  “Fire?”

  “No, sir, just a foul atmosphere.”

  “What can you tell me about the jumpdrive?”

  Wyatt coughed again. “Lieutenants Travers and Hummel are working on it, sir. Mr. Travers says it’s a break in the grid between the reactor and the field generator.”

  “Very well,” Halloran answered. “Get that atmosphere cleared and have Mr. Hummel report in once he has something figured out. In the meantime, keep the ship moving forward.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  The ship jerked and tweaked Halloran’s neck muscles painfully. “What was that?”

  Kendra replied, “Batteries fired, Captain. Without full gravity it feels worse.”

  Halloran knew the time had come to get out. “Full ahead, Pilot. Take us out of here.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Before a minute had passed, Carruthers spoke up. “The two remaining Prax ships are altering course to pursue, sir.”

  “Very well, Lieutenant.” He turned to Kendra. “Can you raised anyone in Life Support?”

  She shook her head at him.

  He unbuckled himself and stood on shaky legs, his body protesting the light gravity. “I’m going down. Captain Kendra has the conn,” he announced to the bridge.

  “Be right back,” he said quietly to her as he passed. “Shoot whatever you have to.”

  “You shouldn’t go.” She was grasping his sleeve in an iron grip as she whispered the words. Her eyes were like fire, haunted.

  He faltered. “I need to.”

  “A Captain…just don’t go, Halloran.”

  He shook his arm free, gently. “I have faith in you.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not it.”

  He pushed off her toward the exit. “You keep her safe.”

  Chapter 30

  Aboard USS Serapis, Struve System

  By the time Halloran reached the medical center on B Deck he knew there was trouble. The lights were flickering a green-amber color; some kind of warning tint to the Prax, he surmised. The air was thick with choking electrical smoke. The moment he dropped out of the ladder tube his ears were assaulted by the roar of broken equipment and his feet slipped on debris strewn in the passage.

  He dodged a thick pipe that had split and bisected the passageway with its bulk. Beyond that a man lay on the decking in the midst of the wreckage, facedown and unmoving. He was about to bend to the man when he heard his name called.

  Wilson was down the passage, waving at him. “Come on, sir!”

  With a last look at the dead man but unable to place him, he chased after the Petty Officer while trying to compensate for the light gravity and avoid smacking his head on the ceiling. Wilson passed the medical center at a bound and Halloran had a glimpse of bloody tables through the clear plexi.

  “Down, sir,” cautioned Wilson as he ducked under another disjointed piece of structure. “Very sharp edges, sir, be careful.”

  “Life Support?”

  “Ops Center and Life Support both, sir.” Wilson slowed and put his lips near Halloran’s ear. “They’re close together and the shot cut the place to ribbons in a second!”

  “Plasma?”

  “Projectile! It was a big one, sir.” Wilson’s face betrayed his amazement.

  They stumbled over some electrical debris that shifted and grabbed at their boots as they crossed it. The Operations Center was just ahead, but blocked by a massive section of the deck above that had collapsed into the passage. But Wilson shimmied through an impossibly narrow gap against the bulkhead. Without pausing, Halloran followed the other man through with an eye for edged chunks of metal that seemingly protruded everywhere. His pants were slashed through by an unseen sharp section and his forehead caught the frayed ends of a wire bundle, scratching deeply.

  The Ops Center was torn open as though with a giant can opener. The bulkhead had been crushed down by the force of the collapsing deck and smoke poured from the hatch that Halloran remembered led into Life Support control adjoining. Two men wrestled in the opening with fire-extinguishing equipment. The Prax version of the firehose was a series of tubes emitting a suppressive foam product that no one had been able to figure out the origin of. Even Axxa hadn’t known how the system worked. But now there was the big alien reaching out a hand from the burning area, grasping at the hose being unrolled by Reyes. The Chief looked up to see Halloran approaching over the broken metal. “Sir, we’ve got three dead in there and several more wounded. Antonov took those to the doc before the deck finished falling in on us!”

  Halloran stooped to the Chief. “Glad you’re still with us, Abran! What’s the status of Life Support?”

  Reyes passed another hose kit to Axxa, whose grime-stained face Halloran now saw framed in the opening. Wilson stepped between them and through the hatch to join the Prax.

  Reyes watched him go before turning back. “Who knows, sir? This ship was impossible to figure out before they blew it all to shreds.”

  “Are we going to suffocate?”

  Reyes exhaled with a huff. “We need to get this ‘lectrical fire out first, then we can assess damage.”

  Halloran took him by the shoulder. “You’ve got this, Chief?”

  Reyes nodded. “You get back to the bridge, sir.” As Halloran nodded and began to turn he grasped the Captain’s arm. “And stop in the med center for a minute—but no more, sir.” His eyes said the rest.

  Halloran squeezed through the tangled wreckage and made his way to medical, pausing to compose himself before opening the door.

  The scene inside shocked him. Half a dozen crew were spread around the room in various states of injury. Blood was everywhere.

  Whitney saw him from where he was planted over someone working on what looked to be a chest wound. “Captain.” His clothes were bloodstained and his voice stretched with exertion.

  Several eyes turned his way. There was Flagler, holding an arm with blood soaking the sleeve. Cassis the Tavarran was next to her on the floor, and Halloran immediately saw the glazed-over eyes that signified shock. Also, there was Seaman Don King, laid on a table and holding his hands over his abdomen. They were glistening red. Halloran couldn’t see the face of the man on the table beneath Whitney. Halloran felt the weight of these people’s lives weighing on him. It wasn’t a new sensation by any means, but the new circumstances frustrated him. He was out of control, out of his depth in space.

  “Sir, you’re bleeding,” observed Flagler, her dark eyes fixed on him.

  Halloran felt his forehead and the slickness on it. He forcefully wiped the blood with a sleeve. “Everyone keep it together, we’re almost out of harm’s way.”

  Back in the noisy passage Halloran paused to suck in several lungfuls of air. His crew was dying in front of his eyes. And what for? He felt sickened by the stunt he had pulled with Calxen in the adrenaline of being near him again.

  The man on the floor groaned and rolled over. It was Antonov. He looked up at Halloran in confusion. “Captain, you’re down here…who’s got the conn?”

  “Kendra. Are you okay?”

  He sat up and held his head until Halloran reached him and levered him to his feet. “I had dropped some wounded off at the medical unit and was returning to the bridge when that,” he pointed to the collapsed piping and mechanicals, “Fell on me.”

  “Get back there and have your head checked. Then go help Chief Re
yes figure things out.”

  Antonov stumbled on a chunk of metal. “Our ship is a mess.”

  “Tell me about it.” Halloran felt the clenching of anger in his gut tighten yet another notch.

  “We’re not going to outrun them, Captain.”

  “We need to jump but we can’t.”

  Carruthers looked back at Kendra. “Could we jump with our damage?”

  The latter nodded. “Yes, if we had that much damage we’d know it.” She checked the engine system logs. “Looks like they’re working on it down there. I can see that they’ve already run-tested the drive.” She looked up resolutely. “They’ll fix it.”

  “The enemy ships are closing to firing range, Captain,” said Djembe. “What are your orders?”

  Kendra felt trapped by their situation. This wasn’t her ship. But Halloran had been clear. Do what you think is right. And what if Halloran never came back to the bridge? She got out of her seat and moved behind Carruthers, leaning in to see the primary sensors. The two Prax cruisers were closing in but the one was damaged and lagging behind. A gap was opening between them…hmm. “Can you pick up the situation toward Tavar?”

  “There are several destroyed ships based on their energy readings. Uncertain as to which side took the most damage.” She pointed to the indicated sensor. “Three ships appear to be heading our way from that engagement.”

  “If they’re all Prax, we’re in trouble.” Kendra rubbed her chin. “We need to—.” The ship shuddered on its long axis. “Long-range shot?”

  “Only one hit—somewhere aft. The rest passed ahead of us.”

  “We need to punch back without sustaining any additional damage.”

  Djembe looked over. “With all respect, we need to exit this sector as fast a possible.”

  Seaman Chapan come into the bridge. “Chief Parker sent me up…er, Captain,” he stumbled upon realizing that Kendra had the conn.

  “Take the Executive Officer’s station, Chapan,” ordered Kendra.

  “Aye.”

  Kendra turned back to Carruthers. “Weapons?”

  “Still have ten out of twelve plasma cannon but only three projectile batteries back online, all on the port side.”

  “That’s the left.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “And thrusters?”

  Djembe rechecked. “All operational.”

  Kendra had stalled enough. “Here’s the plan…”

  Aboard Valor

  The ship was out of danger for the moment. Heres returned to the bridge to find that the crew had cleared the damage away from the command station and pilot’s console. The bodies had been removed—what had been left of them from the projectile that had decapitated Grisa and crushed another tech on its passage through the ship.

  Renno was still at her station, one of the only crew unscathed by the destruction that permeated the bridge deck. She brightened visibly at his reappearance. “Sir.”

  “All clear in engineering. Gallorn has things well in hand. Status?” He avoided his seat and stood behind her instead.

  “We’re still at max sublight, following the vector laid out by the Serapis after leaving orbit.”

  “And the three Prax out here?”

  “One is twenty-five thousand kilometers off, basically destroyed. Sensors aren’t picking up life signs. Unclear whether they abandoned ship.”

  “They don’t abandon ship.”

  She nodded slowly, then turned back to her station.

  “What is our range to the target?”

  “One hundred thirty-six thousand kilometers. Between us are the two Prax ships pursuing them.”

  “Their jumpdrive is damaged; otherwise there’s no reason to still be in this system.”

  “That was my estimate of the situation as well, sir.”

  He grinned behind her. “I’m sure it was.”

  “Glad you’re back, Captain.”

  His grin widened. “Give me every bit of power we have, Renno. I want to catch him.”

  “Sir!” called a tech from across the mangled bridge. “Captain Orris wants you to know that he is busy with the remaining Prax ships and won’t be lending aid to the Valor who is being pursued by two remaining enemy ships.”

  “How far back are they?” Heres asked Renno.

  “Fifty thousand, and losing ground. I think they’re actually retreating in our direction rather than pursuing us, sir.”

  “Very well. Keep after Halloran.”

  “Oh, oh…” Renno was staring at her screen.

  “Now what?”

  “The Serapis just performed an emergency decel.”

  “Let me see!” Heres burst forward and leaned over her for a look.

  “They are overtaken by the Prax pursuers.”

  “No,” mused Heres with a tight smile of admiration. “They’re sucking them in. It’s a turnaround from what the Prax did to us an hour ago.”

  “Serapis is bracketing the lead pursuer with plasma, sir. Nice shooting.”

  “That was a rarely used old Fleet maneuver. Impressive, Halloran…”

  “We’re now only eighty-four thousand away. They’re accelerating on a new vector.”

  “Stay with them, Renno. I don’t want to lose them again.”

  A Tech spoke up. “Sir, new inbound contacts dropping out of jumpspace near Tavar. I’m counting fourteen.”

  Heres leaned heavily on the broken bridge ceiling section. “And?”

  The man looked up. “Sir, it’s Fleet.”

  Heres pounded a fist on the wreckage in satisfaction. “Excellent! Orris has his flotilla. Now we go back to our original mission…” He wiped his face, suddenly overwhelmed with the tension of the past few hours. His hands were shaking.

  “Sir, are you well?”

  He slid his eyes longingly to his comfy chair, wishing for a quick nap. Holding his third officer’s hand as she died in Engineering had taken a lot out of him and Heres realized that his crew was beat, both mentally and physically. The medical techs would be busy for hours more. Perhaps we should attempt to shadow this ship and see what transpires before launching into another battle.

  “I’m going to check in on the wounded, Renno. You have command. Where they go, we go. But maintain our distance.”

  “Yes, sir.” The flash of concern on her face passed and was replaced by that look of determination that Heres so appreciated about her.

  “And get a repair team up here to start working on my bridge.”

  Halloran pounded into the bridge on a mission. “What just happened?” His face burned for some reason and he put a hand to it self-consciously.

  Kendra was leaning over Djembe, pointing at some instrument. She straightened at Halloran’s approach. “Sir?”

  “What maneuver did this ship just execute?”

  “Sir,” Carruthers got his attention with her wide-eyed stare. “It was amazing.”

  “Lieutenant?” He looked from one woman to the other expectantly.

  “Captain Kendra pulled a rapid-decel maneuver with the main engines—it dropped us right in between the two targets, sir.”

  Halloran looked blankly at her.

  “She hit the enemy at point-blank range.” Carruthers shook her head as if to herself. “I never would have thought you could do that with a ship this big and no friction.”

  “Sir,” Kendra said, “The maneuver is in the Fleet tactics book, it’s just not used often because you don’t typically see one heavily armed ship being pursued by several others.” She shrugged in an apologetic way. “Just so happened that the Prax didn’t know that.”

  “Damage?” Halloran’s stare moved to Djembe, who was sitting back in his seat to take in the conversation.

  “Minimal, sir,” replied the Pilot with a nod. “It was an excellent defensive move.”

  Halloran suddenly had the distinct sensation of being a third wheel on his own bridge. It wasn’t something he was used to. He had a sudden flashback to his first command dive as a Lieute
nant, aboard the old trainer USS La Jolla. With Captain Sears watching his every move, every command from the rear of the bridge. The sensation that he could be replaced at any moment by half a dozen more qualified officers aboard. The clench reminded him of its presence down deep.

  He looked from one to the other again, then turned to his own station with “Very well, then. What’s our current heading?”

  Djembe leaned forward. “Five-five-six mark two-zero-four.” He looked back at Halloran. “The coordinates you wanted me to return to.”

  “Sir,” called Chief Reyes from the intercom at his elbow. “Captain.”

  “Chief, glad to hear your voice. Status report.”

  “We’ve got the fire under control, but the comms in the lower and after decks are still down. Brown just came running up from Engineering, though. He wanted you to know that the jumpdrive should now be operational.”

  “That’s good news, Chief; I think we’ve worn out our welcome here. Governor Jackson will have to hold his own with the Fleet now.”

  “Aye, sir. I’ll check with Whitney and get you a casualty report. Any more shooting coming up?”

  Halloran sat and rubbed his warm face again, feeling somewhat dizzy. The archive. We’re done here,” he said more to the whole bridge than just Reyes on the comm. “Pilot, jump us to the coordinates indicated.”

  “This will be a short jump, Captain; plan on four hours seven minutes.”

  “Very well.”

  “Where’d they jump to?” Heres was in his usual spot behind Renno. Several crew were almost done removing the chunk of wreckage. He spared his poor command chair a glance but saw that it was beyond repair.

  Renno smiled up at him. “We got him. They were tracking on a specific vector—a pattern—twice in the last engagement. When they jumped they stayed on it.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Perses system.”

  “What’s in that system which jumping to?” Heres frowned. “How are you sure?”

  “Because,” she explained with some affectation of patience for his attitude; she had seen the chair, too. “That’s the only system in the line of jump unless they plan to overshooting into Prax-declared space.”