“Doesn’t the ship… you know… need it or anything?”
“Nah.” Williams smirked. “It’s busted. The new one takes up a third the space this one does and costs ten times as much. I could probably fix her up for you.”
James looked at the thing doubtfully. “Well thank you, Chief, but how will we carry it when we go aboard the Shan ship?”
“Carry it? Carry it! You never said nothing about carrying it.”
James smiled contritely. “Sorry, Chief. What I need is something portable that will do the job, like… I don’t know. Like a compad.” He pointed to the mini-computer in Williams’ top pocket.
“A compad,” Williams said slowly. “Are you out of your mind? A compad! How the hell am I going to get all that junk in one of these?” he said kicking the recognition unit and waving the compad under James’ nose.
James stepped back a little. “I don’t know, but the Captain said you were the best damn miracle worker in Fleet. He said if you couldn’t do it, no one could.”
Actually, Colgan knew nothing of this, but he would as soon as James could run over and coach him… ah, tell him what he was supposed to have said about Williams.
“He did?” Williams swelled, but then his shoulders slumped. “How the hell am I going to get all that crap in a compad?” He scratched his head in distraction. “Tight beam it? Nah, no bloody good around corners. What I need is a way to transmit without worrying about the damn leakage. The Alliance would make me a bloody saint if I figured that one out.”
James nodded. Unsecured communications were one reason the Merkiaari had found the colonies so quickly. TBC (Tight Beam Communications) was secure, but the system was limited to ships in close proximity—it was essentially a modulated laser pulse… like flashing lights at one another.
Where tight beam was impractical, fold space drones were used to eliminate leakage. Given enough time their fold space drives had enough capacity to cross the Human sector of the galaxy. They were slower than using courier ships, but where speed was not an issue, drones were the best way to keep Alliance worlds in contact with each other.
All that was beside the point here though. As Williams said, TBC was no good around corners and fold space had no place within the confines of a ship.
Williams rummaged around in the junk pile. He grunted in satisfaction when he found a metre rule and turned back to measure the compad and recognition unit. He shook his head at what was revealed and double-checked his measurements.
“Can’t be done… can it?” Williams muttered. “How about double thickness? Can’t see why not. Bloody civs can sew bigger pockets for them.”
That sounded promising. He watched Williams working and realised he’d been forgotten.
“I’ll leave you to it then, shall I? I could come back to check on you or—”
“Where are you going?” Williams said and glared. “You can help me with this piece of crap for a start.”
“Ermmm… I have no idea how to—”
“Course not, you’re just a civ. Look, we have to fix this piece of junk and reinstall it. Only God knows what the skipper will say when I tell him about shutting the computer down.”
James smiled sickly. Shutting the computer down while they were hiding from Chakra, was not a good idea. He had to see Colgan, and fast.
“I don’t see how I can help you, Chief.”
“How strong are you?” Williams said looking him up and down.
“Well, I don’t know… why?”
“Coz you can help me hump this piece of junk over here that’s why.”
James helped him lift the recognition unit, and together they shuffled across the room.
“Damn civs…” Williams mumbled. “Trying to get me into hack with the skipper…”
James grinned, but then he winced as something shifted painfully in his back. He was grateful when Williams finally gave the word to lower his side onto the test bed. He massaged his back while the Chief hooked the unit up to the diagnostic computers ranged along the wall.
James leaned from side to side and winced. It felt as if he had popped something in his back.
“Not enough exercise, that’s your trouble,” Williams said as he tested one circuit after another. “I do hope you ain’t expecting me to program this translator of yours. If you are, you can forget it. What you’re talking about needs something a lot more sophisticated than I can do.”
James shook his head. “That’s not a problem. Bindar, that’s Professor Singh, has a program that runs on Canada’s computer just fine. What we need is something that can hear voices and speak back in the right language.”
“That’s okay then. If his program runs all right now, it will run okay on what I have in mind.”
James watched as Williams ran a diagnostic and wondered what he had started. “What have you in mind… if you don’t mind me asking that is?”
“Don’t learn if you don’t ask questions.” Williams straightened and waved a hand at the unit. “This crap is too damn bulky… heavy too.” He eyed James as he stretched his back. “The new one… remember I told you about the new one that costs ten times as much?”
“Yeah, I mean yes of course.”
“Well that one is tiny compared to this one. It’s still too big for what you want, but it’s small enough to make mobile. I have an idea how we can link into that compad idea of yours.”
James realised he was staring. “You want to take out the new one and put that piece of… you want to put that junk back in?” he cried incredulously.
“Yup!”
Oh God, Colgan wasn’t going to like this! He had to explain the situation before Williams said something and brought the wrath of God… well the wrath of the Captain down on him.
13 ~ Predator and Prey
Aboard ASN Canada, Shan Inner Belt
“Easy, eeeeasy,” Captain Colgan said as his ship navigated the clutter of the asteroid belt. He realised he was on the edge of his seat ready to pounce on the helm controls, and forced himself to sit back. Janice, Canada’s helmsman, took no notice of his hovering presence at her back. “Steady as she goes, helm.”
“Steady as she goes, aye,” Janice verified automatically. She remained hunched over her controls and didn’t look up.
Colgan glanced around his horseshoe shaped bridge. In front of him, on Janice’s left, Anya Ivanova sat at tactical and monitored the feed piped to her station from Scan. Her job was to keep a wary eye on the Shan heavies, and update her targeting solutions. Colgan was determined they would never be used. The Shan heavies were waiting for Chakra to flush him out, but that wouldn’t happen. He would never let himself be forced into the open.
Along his left side were two empty observer stations, while to his right, Commander Groves sat at Scan studying the data Canada’s sensors provided her. She was tracking Chakra, and looking for a suitable hiding place. The plot table’s colourful display hid her face behind shadowy patterns, and painted her uniform with scrolling alphanumeric lists of data. Colgan could almost read the current situation just by glancing at her uniform.
Behind Colgan’s right shoulder, next to the unused holotank, was the comm shack. Lieutenant Ricks was monitoring Shan comm chatter. Opposite him on the other side of the bridge was engineering. Ensign Steve Carstens, their youngest crew member at nineteen, was manning the station. He had a direct link to central damage control. He monitored Canada’s systems and dispatched maintenance teams if required. A thankless task, but necessary. Computers were by no means infallible.
Colgan surveyed the faces of his crew one last time. Everyone was busy at their stations trying not to look at the tactical overlay currently displayed on the main viewer. It showed Canada trying to put distance between herself and the Shan ship they believed was named Chakra. They were sneaking away using the clutter of the belt to hide their movements. Although most of its stations were manned, the bridge was unnaturally quiet.
Lieutenant Ricks finished receiving a report and turned to relay i
t. “Stealth mode is still inactive, Skipper.”
“Chakra is closing,” Groves said a moment later.
Colgan nodded. The asteroid belt was like a maze, a perfect place to lose Chakra, but the Shan captain would not give up. Chakra would lose them one day and reacquire them the next. Chakra’s skipper was learning his moves, but there wasn’t a hell of a lot he could do about it. Not with three heavies lurking just beyond the belt.
Their game of cat and mouse had become serious. Invincible had jumped outsystem over three months ago, three months of silence spent hiding from the Shan hunters, but now Canada was in serious trouble. A minor collision yesterday with a piece of rock disturbed by the game they were playing, had since blossomed into a full scale disaster. The hit had been amidships, and had seemed of little consequence at first, but when the damage report came in, it revealed a more serious problem than scratched nanocoat.
The rock had damaged Canada’s emitters without which she was visible to Chakra’s sensors. When active, stealth mode made Canada electronically invisible. She could still be seen with the naked eye of course, but one tiny ship in the vastness of space was almost impossible to spot. A ship hemmed inside an asteroid field without stealth, had few options but to hide behind a lump of rock and hope no one was watching from that side.
“Get me an update on repairs, Mark,” Colgan said.
“Aye, sir.” Ricks turned back to his station and contacted damage control.
“There’s one,” Commander Groves said looking up from the navigational plot her station was displaying. “Transferring to main viewer, sir.”
The image on the forward view-screen changed to display a section of the inner asteroid belt. Canada’s friendly blue icon blinked on and off with her heading and velocity appended to it. Chakra’s baleful red icon was closing on their previous position, like a hound on the scent of a fox. Groves circled an asteroid on the plot table, and the main viewer updated itself.
Colgan pointed his control wand at the circled asteroid, and copied it onto his number two monitor. Data denoting the asteroid’s size and composition began scrolling down the right side of the screen. The computer analysed the data and highlighted the important points in red. The asteroid was big enough to conceal two ships the size of Canada with room to spare, but more to the point, it was of the right composition.
He highlighted the asteroid on the viewer with his control wand, and it began flashing. “Put us in the shadow of that one, Janice.”
“Aye, sir. Manoeuvring… two percent only.”
Two percent was nothing, but more thrust would disturb the smaller particles of the belt. With Chakra stalking them, Colgan had ordered that two percent was to be used until further orders. So far it had worked.
“I have that update, Skipper,” Lieutenant Ricks said.
“Let’s have it.”
“Five hours… minimum.”
Hisses of shock went around the bridge. Groves looked at Colgan sharply. She would have made some comment, but his quick head-shake silenced her. Everyone had assumed the damage to be minor and easily fixed, but now they knew that wasn’t so. They were beginning to feel like the prey Chakra so obviously thought they were. They didn’t need to hear their XO agreeing with them.
“Tell them that’s unacceptable.” Colgan’s stomach began to seethe. “I want every swinging dick in damage control up to their elbows in circuitry right now.”
“They already are, sir.”
At the press of a button, his station turned to face the comm shack and Lieutenant Ricks. “Explain.”
“The Chief says the rock we hit punched a hole right through the secondary control runs, Skipper. The entire thing fused solid when the overload hit the chips. They’re having to make new emitters from scratch, not repair the old ones.”
Colgan frowned. “I see.” He should have known that already, but with Chakra bearing down on him, he hadn’t taken the trouble to ask. He glanced at Francis and beckoned her over. She would have to sort this mess out. “Get down there and see what can be done to expedite repairs, XO. If we don’t get those emitters back soon, I’m going to run out of hiding places.”
“On my way.” Groves entered the elevator at the rear of the bridge.
Colgan turned his station to face the main viewer. “Display tactical overlay,” he ordered. His eyes narrowed as the schematic appeared. “Remove all ships more than twenty minutes’ flight time from us.”
He watched all ship codes disappear except Canada, Chakra, and the three heavies that they had no name for. They were skulking about just waiting to pounce on anyone foolish enough to stick his nose outside of the belt.
“Centre overlay on Canada’s current position and display previous hiding places.”
The display was cluttered with the known positions of thousands of asteroids, but a dozen icons were blinking—his hideouts, each discovered and abandoned when Chakra bore in. They were widely scattered, but now that he looked at them all at once, he could see a pattern forming. That wasn’t good. If he could see it, he knew damn well the Shan could.
It took a certain composition of metal asteroids to hide Canada effectively. Iron core, with enough nickel and molybdenum to camouflage her sensors and beam weapons. For the millionth time Colgan wished Canada was a light or heavy cruiser, almost any proper warship would do. Canada’s beam weapons were mounted externally to save space for her labs. Her missile tubes obviously had to be internal for access to the magazines, but a warship had all of its weapons mounted internally. Only the muzzle of beam weapons truly needed to be exposed, and of course warships had sealable gun ports.
Not so Canada.
She had been converted from an Exeter class light cruiser into the survey vessel she was now. Most of her weaponry had been gutted to make room for her labs, her remote sampler storage bays, and her drone storage bays, which were over-sized. Carrying extra drones gave Canada a greater range. Survey missions tended to be long ones. Sending back regular reports was part of that. Beam weapon and sensor grid construction both relied on alloys with heavy concentrations of certain metals, which would give the Shan a good way to find Canada if they knew what to look for.
Chakra knew what to look for, Colgan was sure of it.
All of his asteroid hideouts were of similar size and composition. It didn’t take a genius to realise that all the Shan had to do was survey the belt for the correct type. When they did, they would have every possible hiding place he could use. Knowing his time was running out gave him a sharp twinge in his stomach. His damn ulcer was acting up again.
“Someone send for a glass of milk,” he said grimacing at the pain in his gut.
“It’s on the way, sir,” Ricks said sounding concerned.
“Asteroid approaching, sir. Two thousand metres… passing fifteen hundred, sir. Twelve hundred… one thousand metres, sir.”
“Knock it off, Janice. Just park us will you?” Colgan said holding his guts. Where was the damn milk?
“Aye, sir. Sorry.”
He relented a little, no sense displaying his worry to his crew. It was important they believe he knew what to do even when he didn’t.
“Sorry, Janice, but my guts are acting up.”
“That’s all right, Skip.” Janice eased her charge closer and closer to the mountainous looking asteroid. “All stop. Grapples deploying… good catch, sir.”
“Well done.”
They had done this a good many times now, but grappling an asteroid wasn’t easy. More than once they had grabbed one only to have the damn grapples wriggle loose. Asteroids might look solid, but they weren’t always reliable. They sometimes shattered or separated when stressed. This time all went well. Canada pulled herself in close to the asteroid until it looked like a gigantic cliff on the bridge displays.
“One metre separation, Skip.”
“Can’t you get us in tighter than that?” Colgan said with a small smile.
Janice spun to look at him in outrage, and everyone la
ughed. She realised he was joking and smiled sheepishly. She turned back to her controls and went through her usual routine of shutting down all nonessential systems.
“Your milk, sir,” crewman first class Riley said.
Colgan started. He hadn’t heard Baz approach. He took the offered glass and drank the milk straight down. He felt the effect almost instantly. Excess acid, that’s all it was. He had never had trouble with stress before this mission, but the constant threat of being destroyed, or worse, initiating hostilities with the Shan, was taking its toll on everyone. Doctor Ambrai wanted to adjust his IMS (Integrated Medical System), but the procedure would mean being laid up in bed for days. He didn’t have time for that. Ambrai would have to wait until after the mission to reprogramme his bots. The milk would have to do.
“Thanks, Baz.”
“You’re welcome, sir.” Riley took the empty glass and left the bridge as silently as he had entered.
Colgan turned his attention to the tactical overlay on the main viewer. He punched in a command on his control wand, and transferred the data to his station’s number one monitor. The small repeater display gave him the ability to manipulate the raw tactical data without inconveniencing other stations on the bridge. In the heat of battle, his access to such data saved time and could save lives.
“Display Chakra’s current position and heading,” he ordered.
The main viewer cleared to show Chakra approaching, but it was obvious by her heading that the Shan had lost them once again. How many more times could he get away with this?
“Give me an all hands channel, Mark.”
“Aye, Skipper. Channel open.”
“Ah hmmm, this is the Captain,” Colgan said. He always felt a little silly announcing the obvious. He cleared his throat and continued. “Chakra is still hunting us, but we’re safe for the moment. I will keep you informed of developments. Keep to routine and stay out of the way of the damage control teams. That is all.” He turned back to Ricks. “Call the boffins together in the briefing room and have Commander Groves back up here to take my chair.”
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