by Greg Mutton
The Command chair was to the rear of the bridge with weapons, tactical and defence control to the right, engineering, communications and sensor control to the left. Both groups curved towards the front of the bridge so all could have a clear view of the bubble. Behind each station was the redundant, or back up, station, currently unmanned, but an essential part of the operation in any battle scenario. JT was admiring the simplicity and functionality of the design when Admiral Wilson interrupted his thoughts.
‘May I have a minute with you; in your ready room?’ she asked. John led the way.
‘I will make this quick,’ Wilson said, as the door closed. ‘While I can’t go into detail here, we now know that the incident at Zyralin 4 was not what it seemed, initially. The board of enquiry ascertained that your actions were correct, in fact if you hadn’t acted as you did, the losses would have been total. It was also found that your commander at the time made some very serious errors and, consequently, will never be in a command situation again. The board made several recommendations and one of them is this.’ She held out a small leather box.
John took it and lifted the lid. Inside were the twin sets of four sun symbols, the insignia of a full Captain — Grade 4.
‘Congratulations Captain, you really earned these.’
John was about to speak when the distinctive sound of a Klaxon horn sounded three times and then the First Officer’s voice spoke, Red alert! All crew to battle stations! This is not a drill, red alert! Three more blasts of the Klaxon followed.
‘A Klaxon….?’ Admiral Wilson asked.
‘Very effective, it really galvanises the crew into action, you’ll see.’
‘Well, put on those pips and let’s see if it worked.’
JT removed his old rank insignia and replaced them with the new ones as they exited the ready room. Already, the ship status display was glowing mostly red. The six redundant stations were now active, with four of them physically manned.
‘With the new system, each station can be manned remotely if needed,’ Silas was explaining to the others. ‘While we think of ourselves as very advanced beings, we are still basically one step from the animal world and there are times when we simply cannot respond in person … we still have bodily functions that rule us.’ This brought a couple of knowing smiles from the admirals. ‘Now each crew member can log onto their station remotely … all biometrically controlled and secured.’
The status display was now totally red and showed all stations as battle ready. John took his seat in the command chair. He turned to the assembled admirals.
‘Thirty-eight seconds to battle readiness; not our best response, but acceptable.’
It was a calm and businesslike transition from cruise mode to battle stations, the only sign of urgency was the sounding of the Klaxon. Thirty eight seconds was an extremely good response time.
‘This is the Captain speaking;’ John began a ship-wide broadcast. ‘Well done everyone. We are about to reinsert into normal space and commence our final exercise; time to show what we can do!’ He switched off the comm system and looked at the defence officer.
‘Lock her down, Lieutenant.’
The lock down procedure commenced with all external view ports closing and armour doors sliding across to cover them — all air locks sealed and the bridge lowered into its battle position. Now, in less than twenty seconds, the ship was one smooth, homogenous shape, with no visible protrusions or access points to the inside. The view screen changed from visual to sensor mode with an almost imperceptible flicker.
‘Raise the Bubble,’ JT commanded and the tactical officer switched on the holographic display. Immediately, the forward section of the bridge, until now empty, filled with a translucent blue glow — the Bubble. At its centre was the ship, but as they were still in hyperspace, the rest was just a constantly changing fog.
‘Twenty seconds to reinsertion,’ navigation officer, Lieutenant Holly Morgan announced. As if on cue, twenty seconds later, the Bubble cleared and displayed normal space in a sphere of one million kilometres diameter around the ship. Automatically, all shields were raised and the weapon systems initialised — Valiant was now ready to fight.
‘Ahead … slow,’ JT ordered, ‘Tactical?’
At his console the Tactical Officer, Greg Holgate, worked his magic and the tactical information began to show in the Bubble. Directly ahead and at a distance of three hundred and twenty five thousand kilometres was the target — an old converted freighter that had been enhanced and strengthened for the job. Not only built to take a blow, this target could hit back with a complete array of weapons: blasters, disrupters, torpedos and more — a squadron of Dart attack ships were also at its disposal. All that was of no consequence, the goal of this test was simply to prove the effectiveness of a totally new weapons system. They would face some deterrents, but they had already passed all other battle scenarios.
‘Skipper, check this out?’ Holgate pointed to the twelve drone gunships that seemed to form a funnel to the target. Outside this funnel was a myriad of constantly moving red dots.
‘The red dots are mines. There’s no other way to approach the target, except to run that gauntlet… strange set up,’ Holgate muttered, trying to make sense of this strategy.
‘Who is the range officer today?’ JT directed his question to Admiral Grogan.
‘Captain Radchak I believe’ he replied.
‘Solomon Radchak?’ JT raised an eyebrow. ‘Sol and I were at the Academy together … he’s a brilliant tactician, if somewhat unorthodox.’ He returned his attention to the Bubble.
‘Tactical, what is the forward sensor array aperture?’
‘Standard two metres, why?’ Greg Holgate responded.
‘Change it to fifty millimetres and sweep across our path,’ JT responded. ‘Display it in the Bubble.’
In seconds, the Bubble changed, showing a myriad of tiny black objects in the ship’s path and extending out almost to the gunships. Everyone looked at these tiny objects, trying to ascertain just what they were. Sensor readings indicated they were solid and, with no power source being detected, the system classified them as space rock.
It was Holly Morgan who broke the silence. ‘Pin mines, Sir … they’re pin mines, but not activated as yet.’
‘Well done, Lieutenant,’ JT nodded approvingly to the young officer, ‘Sol, you sneaky bastard!’
Their options were limited, they couldn’t go around these because of the active mine field and the gunships. All the range officer had to do was wait until they were in range of the pin mines, arm them and sit back and watch the show.
This dilemma brought a smug smile to Dean’s face. ‘So, what do you intend to do about this, Abraham?’ he gloated.
JT ignored him and looked back at his tactical specialist.
‘Tactical… options?’
Greg Holgate smiled slightly — the bridge crew knew that this was a good sign. Not the sort of person who stood out in a crowd and with a physical presence that was best described as ordinary, Commander Holgate’s mind was the proverbial steel trap, constantly working and able to come up with numerous options to most situations. His mouth curled very slightly now, but those who worked with him knew he had an answer.
‘Corkscrew?’ he suggested with a glint in his eye.
‘Do it.’ JT answered, a smile crossing his face.
‘What’s corkscrew?’’ questioned Admiral Morris who was standing just behind the primary tactical position.
‘A little trick our chief engineer worked out… now, watch the fun,’ Greg replied as he initiated the program.
Immediately the Bubble display changed and the shape of the ship seemed to change with it. The forward section appeared to elongate into a cone shape which looked as if it was starting to rotate.
Amy Rodregas, the Chief Engineer, responded. ‘Really quite simple, Admiral, we just extend the deflector screen and start a rotating ripple that travels round the ship, it works like a funnel, but in rev
erse. Anything that the deflector moves out of the way is channelled along the tapered field and then flung out of the ship’s path by the ripple.’
Greg interrupted. ‘Deflector is at full rotation, we can proceed.’
‘Ahead, dead slow,’ came JT’s command. In the engineering section, the latest Greenbach Gravitron Drive urged the ship slowly forward. ‘Guns, any of those gunships draw a bead, take them out. Main armament, concentrate on the target. Is Sling Shot ready?’
Helen handed over the secondary targets — the gunships — to the redundant weapons Officer Dave Carmelli. ‘Yes sir,’ she replied.
Admiral Wilson looked to Silas. ‘What’s Sling Shot?’
Silas smiled. ‘An experimental weapons system, it’s the focus of today’s exercise. Just watch… we’ll explain it all later.’
Holly Morgan was monitoring the clearing of the pin mines. ‘We’re starting to move into the mine field.’
The ship slowly penetrated the first layer of mines, the deflector starting to move them aside. Gradually a path was being forced through. Time dragged by, minutes seemed like hours, nobody spoke — it was as if they were afraid that even a slight sound might trigger the mines.
‘Number one layer the screens… absorption outermost, we may need to soak up some energy,’ JT ordered. Slowly, the mines in the distance began to change colour in the Bubble. ‘Looks like Sol’s twigged to our trick … He’s initialising the mines … increase speed, ahead two thirds’.
The next few minutes were the most critical in the exercise, as using the corkscrew made evasive manoeuvring almost impossible. And they were still only a third of the way through the mines.
‘We’re being targeted… three gunships have us locked on!’ Hellen called.
The Bubble changed as it showed which of the gunships had them locked. As one they fired and three plasma balls sped towards Valiant.
‘Don’t wait for an invitation, take them out!’ JT commanded. Valiant returned fire with a spread of torpedos. Two of the gunships fired a second burst, this time finding their mark. Valiant lurched and yawed, alarms screaming through the bridge.
‘Hit, sir. Rear port quarter… no damage,’ Amy called as she changed the emergency crew status from stand-by to active.
Valiant opened up on the defenders. Another spread of torpedos flew from their cradles, drive trails marking their progress. The port blaster array was now firing continuously, intense streams of pure energy assailing the targets. Two of the gunships exploded as the torpedos slammed into them, the third turned and tried to evade the onslaught from Valiants blasters, but to no avail. Turning had been the worst blunder as the energy beam snaked down the length of the ship and sliced through the hull, disabling its engines. It drifted helplessly.
Now others were entering the battle. Another plasma ball slammed into the rear port quarter and more alarms screamed — Valiant wasn’t having everything its own way.
‘Amy, how are we doing with these pin mines?’ JT called.
‘Nearly there, Skipper… another few seconds, it seems the pin mines are a problem for the gunships, more than they are for us.’
The scene in the Bubble told the story — three more of the gunships were disabled. The pin mines that had been deflected by the corkscrew effect had been flung out toward the defending ships. Once armed, their proximity detectors had found the gunships and detonated with devastating results. The target’s own weapons were now attacking its defences.
‘We’re through the mines’ Holgate called.
‘Guns, you’re up.’ John barked.
‘Target selected: torpedos away,’ Helen responded.
Three sleek torpedos leapt from their cradles, their drive units leaving a faint but visible trail. Two seconds later they impacted the shield wall of the target as Helen frantically worked at her console.
‘Shield parameters caught … programming containment field harmonics … Sling Shot fired’.
There was nothing to see. Unlike the torpedos, which had a drive system that left a visible track, Sling Shot projectiles left no visible trace — the only visible evidence was the end result, which was usually spectacular. This time was no different; all three shots found the target: a mock-up main reactor cooling tower at the rear of the target ship. The result was a brilliant white eruption as the target vaporised; but the battle wasn’t over yet. The remaining gunships had changed position and were attempting to attack the obvious weakness in Valiant’s rear port shields.
‘Helm, evasive action.’ JT called, and the ship swung away from the target.
‘Guns?’
There was no need to ask, Tradeski had already selected targets for the ship’s weapons. Three torpedos shot out of the starboard bank, and the forward disruptor spat raw energy toward the other two gunships. Those two didn’t stand a chance. The lead ship was hit with the full force and its hull was torn open, slewing it off course and then smashing into the second, ending that run as well.
‘Good shooting, two for one.’ Admiral Wilson cried, obviously enjoying the action. The last three split up and headed away from the torpedos rushing toward them; too late for one, which was hit on the rear starboard quarter as it turned — the entire engineering section collapsed by the force of the explosion — the other two escaped.
Admiral Morris smiled. ‘Well, I think this ship has just passed her final trial. Well done, everyone. Captain, hail the target and offer assistance’
‘Comms open hailing channels,’ JT requested. ‘Captain Radchak. This is Captain Abraham of ECS Valiant. I believe we have completed the exercise. Do you require any assistance?’
The comm system sounded a return hail and the voice of Solomon Radchak boomed into the bridge. I would concur; seems you have learned a few new tricks JT.
‘Someone once told me to never stop learning,’ JT chuckled. ‘Nice trick with the pin mines, by the way.’
I think I borrowed that. As for assistance, well, we were told to expect damage. We have a heavy repair ship behind the asteroid belt. Someone was obviously confident in your little boat.
‘Ok, Sol thanks for the shake down; we need to return to base ASAP. Call me next time you’re back home,’ JT replied.
‘Not so quickly,’ Simon Morris interjected. ‘Captain Radchak, this is Admiral Morris. We would like you to return with us, so we can have a full debrief ready for next week. Can you leave the repairs to your crew?’
There was a brief pause, no doubt for Radchak to confer with his second in command. I’ll need about fifteen minutes to get all the data ready.
‘No problem, we’ll send a shuttle.’ Morris finished.
John turned to the navigator. ‘Set course for Earth and proceed as soon as Captain Radchak is aboard.’ He diverted his attention to his weapons officer, ‘Helen, I think the admirals would like an update on Sling Shot.’
Helen nodded to her captain, ‘Yes sir we’ve set up a display in the ward room.’ She looked to Admiral Wilson, ‘Ma’am, if you and the other Admirals would like to follow me.’ As she reached the pod, Allan Dean was behind her. She paused, not knowing what to do.
Silas came to her aid, ‘Sorry, Captain, but you don’t have clearance for this.’
‘Rubbish, I have level 2 Red … top secret clearance.’ Dean spluttered.
Silas’s eyes narrowed and his stare was intense. ‘Maybe for Space Corps, but this ship isn’t part of Space Corps, it’s the property of Captain Abraham and he has allowed us to use it as a test bed for our new systems. Those systems are proprietary designs and hardware of Abracorp and Greenbach Technologies, and you have no clearance for either company.’
Dean spluttered something in indignation then returned to his previous place at the far rear corner of the bridge.
2
The speaker on the command chair buzzed and announced, Shuttle bay here, Captain Radchak’s shuttle has docked.
JT answered, ‘Thank you; please bring Captain Radchak to the Ward Room.’ He paused for a second.
‘You have the con number one. Take us home, but I think the Admirals will need a little more time to go through the systems, delay our arrival for thirty minutes,’ he added as he entered the pod.
Valiant’s first officer, Jarad Cross, turned to the Navigator, his nod all that was needed.
‘Course laid in, Sir.’
‘Execute.’ With that one word things happened; the Displacement field was initiated and the pilot executed the insertion into the artificial worm hole. Watching this well-oiled operation, Jarad reflected on how far space travel had come. In a few centuries, humans had gone from being almost imprisoned in their tiny solar system, to reaching the edge of the galaxy. Where to next? These thoughts brought a smile to his lips as he sat in the command chair.
JT entered the ward room and saw the three admirals, his father and Silas in deep conversation; they were all grouped around a long table in the centre of the room. He approached the dispenser and ordered a coffee. Taking the offered mug he turned just as Solomon Radchak entered. He raised his mug questioningly. Radchak nodded and JT requested another and handed it to the new arrival. ‘Sol, good to see you.’
‘I really should salute you, congratulations old boy.’ Solomon replied tapping the four suns his friend’s collar.
Admiral Grogan beckoned them over. The ward room was always neutral ground and usual military protocols suspended, so they both joined the group without fuss. A few strange items were on the table. Directly in front was a model of a Mark 9 torpedo, behind that was what looked like an ancient artillery shell and the third item resembled an ancient projectile weapon. Sol was perplexed.
‘Please don’t tell me you blew up our target with that old thing?’ he asked as he pointed to the shell.
