Switching to the images from the Tracker, Jeftrick could see they fared no better in getting through the shielding to hit the weapon. That ship’s two cannons unloaded directly into the area of the bubble, but the pale-blue streams of energy only fanned out upon impact with the shielding. Seeing no point in continuing that line of attack, he ordered the firing to stop. He decided to put that shielding to a true test against his onslaught of missiles.
◆◆◆
Linda kept shifting her eyes between the live fire hitting her shielding and the damage control board. The weakened aft emitters would go from yellow to blinking red whenever the energy beams struck them, but so far, they were still disbursing the energy away from the hull of her ship. The same was true along her right side, and along the upper front where the lead ship was clearly trying to get at their turret.
The sight of the energy bursts hitting her shielding was a show of futility on her adversaries’ part. Using a technology that humans had abandoned hundreds of years ago, it was a weapon so easily defeated. The weapon was nothing more than a focused lightning strike, and the energy needed to produce it far exceeded the energy needed to disperse it, and that was all her shielding had to do. Even the distance they were using to fire it worked against them. The cold of space would syphon off some of the energy along with the long distance the electricity had to travel. She imagined that if a 10,000-megawatt burst left their ship, it was probably no more than 1000 megawatts by the time it reached her. The way it now dissipated across her shielding was just as effective as lightning being redirected down a rod driven into the ground. Rather than using the ground to disperse the powerful energy that might fry a few worms, the Privateer’s shielding was spreading it around her ship and letting it expel its energy out into space.
When the ships stopped firing, it came as no surprise to her. They would realize they were wasting energy just as easily as Linda did. Her concern now was what they would do next, and she suspected it would be to fire those explosive weapons like the first alien ship had. If fired in mass, and coming from multiple directions, Linda had no desire to see if she could effectively dodge them all. She decided she would not give them that opportunity.
Pressing on the communication icon with the side of her clenched first, she selected weapons control. The ire built at the idea that these creatures thought they had a right to fire on her ship. They were nothing but bullies, and she would teach them a lesson.
“Commander, this is the Captain. I want you to disable those ships. You are cleared to fire upon them as previously instructed!” Linda said with barely controlled rage.
“Understood, Captain,” Bill's voice responded through the speakers.
◆◆◆
Bill had heard the Captain’s anger before, but nothing like what just flowed down from the speakers. It seemed like a completely different person gave him the order to open fire. Realizing he had a job to do, Bill tried to push the concern away. Looking at the targeting screen, he refocused his mind on what needed to be done. Tapping the firing solution icon with one finger, he waited for the computer to calculate the first set of shots.
While he waited for the computer, Bill said, “Don, I want you to be ready on the firing button. As soon as I get a firing solution, I’ll have you fire while I switch targets for the next solution. To be clear, the firing sequence will be T-2, T-4 and then T-3. Jeremy, I want you to monitor the firing solutions to be sure the sequence is correct. If you see a mistake, yell. Let’s get this right, people!”
Altering the original firing order the Captain had given him earlier, Bill felt that the target at their rear was the real threat right now. He intended to drive them away second and then focus on the target off their starboard side last. He would deal with the Captain later should she find fault with his change to her orders.
A rapid tone told him the solution was calculated, and the cannon was ready. Remembering how three shots temporarily disabled the first alien ship, he decided to use the same three-shot selection on these ships. If it took as long for them to recover as the first ship, the Privateer could put a good amount of distance between them by the time they got underway again.
“Fire!”
Looking over, Don had already flipped the protective cover away from the firing icon. He quickly tapped the console that preceded the heavy double-whoosh of the turret firing. The conduits rattled loudly from the force of the plasma passing through them to reload the pots. The heat that radiated off them, even though insulated, already began to tax the cooling system within the compartment. The third shot finally went off, followed by the rush of plasma up the conduit again.
Bill received the tone indicating the next firing solution was ready. The sound of the heavy turret swinging from forward to aft reverberated throughout the compartment. The alien ship had made the mistake of not coming completely behind the Privateer. If it had, Bill could not have fired at it due to the upper section of the ship blocking the turret from firing directly aft.
With the alien ship positioned slightly starboard of aft, the turret lined up with it perfectly. With the firing solution ready and the pots recharged, Bill ordered, “Fire!”
“Target locked!” Marcus yelled out after the second series of shots.
With the turret in motion again, and the firing solution in progress, Bill wanted to see the effects of the first shots. Releasing the lock on the targeting scope, he swirled his finger around the control icon on the console that swung the scope forward until it aligned to the lead ship. He was just in time to see the first bolt hit home. It struck the ship dead center on the front third of the hull. The second bolt struck just aft of the first bolt, blasting out a huge hole in the side of the ship.
To Bill’s surprise, the ship seemed to shimmer, as if a huge hand had grabbed hold and shook it. The third bolt, lagging behind the first two, plunged into the hull nearly mid-ship. The entire front section of the hull seemed to implode, before blasting outward, taking a large section of the hull with it. The sheer force of the blast stopped the ship dead in its tracks.
Adjusting the scope aft, Bill was just in time to see the third bolt reach the ship. It entered the bow, already blown open by the first two bolts, and disappeared into the depths of the ship. The resulting blast bulged the entire ship outward, before blowing it up completely. Bill could hardly believe it when the ship ceased to exist as anything other than floating debris.
The beeping tone of the targeting computer reminded Bill that he had one more ship out there. He let the scope swing back to align with the third ship now on target lock. Looking at the image on the scope, he could see the alien ship pulling hard right to get away from the dangerous firepower of the Privateer.
Hesitating for a few seconds, Bill waited to see if a command to hold fire would come down from the bridge. The only sound in the compartment came from the hissing of the overheated conduits.
Having learned of the structural weakness of these new alien ships, Bill decided to reduce the shot count to two. Receiving a confirmation tone that the selection had been accepted by the targeting computer, he said, “Fire.”
At first, Bill wasn’t sure he had spoken loud enough to be heard, but the sudden firing of the turret proved him wrong. He kept his focus on the targeting scope to see the results of the two bolts the fleeing ship was about to receive.
Two churning, roiling balls of bright white appeared on the scope. They seemed to race each other toward the alien ship. The doomed ship had completed its starboard swing and now stood stern on to the Privateer. The Commander of that ship made a huge mistake. He exposed his exhaust ports to the deadly effects of pure plasma energy.
The first bolt struck center of the stern directly between the two sets of double-stacked exhaust ports. It was followed immediately by the second bolt. The blasts tore open a large section of the stern. The force of the plasma bursts, combined with the wild release of propulsion exhaust, sent the ship into a slow twirling motion.
Bill
slapped the console to return the weapon system back to passive. He watched as Don slowly closed the plastic cover over the fire icon. Swinging the targeting scope aft, Bill looked at what the left of that ship. It was only large chunks of drifting hull that quickly faded in the distance. He knew that no one was going home from that ship.
Shifting views to the right-side imager, Bill focused on the starboard ship. It began to fall behind the fast-moving Privateer. It continued a slow twirling dance while white clouds of atmosphere drifted out the damaged hole like smoke from a cigar. He didn’t even want to guess how many of that crew were now dead.
Setting the scope onto the last ship, he saw it also spewed atmosphere out the huge hole in its side. More loss of life, he knew. The sight bubbled up a sudden hatred for the alien creatures that forced him to kill so many of their kind. And for what? He had no idea what this was all about. Was it territorial, or did these creatures just like to fight? Whatever the answer, it surely didn’t justify so much death and destruction.
Bill slapped the scope lock icon in frustration. The computer returned the scope back in line with the turret. No one said a word.
◆◆◆
The seemingly easy defeat of the three Kracks ships did not come as a surprise to Sinska. He had warned Jeftrick of the effectiveness of the prey ship’s shielding and their deadly weapon. He supposed the Overlord had to learn that for himself. He hissed out his frustration at seeing such a waste of good ships and Kracks. Sinska thought this felt even worse than coming back to a hungry gugg, empty handed, after a fruitless hunt.
Why had Jeftrick not come in firing rockets? The three ships could have fired rockets from varying angles to overwhelm the prey ship. Just one rocket might have dropped their shielding. Then the energy weapons could have been fired to knock out the prey. That is what I would have done.
Turning his attention to the last two ships, he could see they still had the angle of pursuit in their favor. While he doubted if they could get in front of the prey ship before it reached its jump point, he was sure they could get into range of their deadly rockets to stop them. Between the two ships, they could send out sixteen rockets at once. Nothing was going to get away from that kind of firepower, or so he hoped.
Sinska looked at the prey ship, wondering what they would do now. They chose to fight it out with the first three ships. Would they do the same with the much larger take down ships? Sinska did not think he could be so brazen when facing two such ships; each one nearly triple his own ship’s size. Could the commander of that prey ship be that bold? Did he not know fear?
Seeing how his ship, even though it continued to follow the prey ship, had fallen further behind, Sinska felt like he might as well be trying to catch the wind in his claws. Even at top speed, he could not catch them, and he was lucky to get two-thirds speed out of the Tail Whip with the damage sustained. The occasional squeaks and groans emitting from the hull above spoke volumes to the stresses he placed on his aging, damaged ship.
As long as there was a slight chance he could get back into the action, Sinska would continue to follow the prey ship. He wanted revenge, and he would never get it unless he was somewhere in the vicinity of the action.
◆◆◆
Jeftrick’s tongue lashed out looking for answers to justify the loss of three ships. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, he felt like his legs had been cut out from under him. His speed and quick striking capability vanished with surprising ease. The warning from Sinska about the ineffectiveness of his energy weapon, and the power of the prey ship’s weapon came back to haunt him.
One ship was gone, and the other two were completely disabled, and his prey moved along like nothing had happened. The loss of those three ships were troubling, as was the loss of the information he no longer received from their data captures. He could still see the prey ship on the live feed, but it offered nothing compared to what he had obtained through the lead ships. The hope of cutting them off had vanished when the tracker went out of action. Jeftrick’s only hope now was his rockets. He still had enough of an angle on the prey ship to get into range, as long as they did not turn away from him.
Swinging both eyes onto tracking, Jeftrick watched the number representing the distance between them rapidly counting down. What would the prey ship do now? Would they choose to close in and fight? If they did, they were about to find out that his ship could take their hits and keep on fighting back. Jeftrick would not make the same mistake again. He would hit them with his disabling rockets to put an end to any further hopes this prey may have of escaping.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Linda’s hands tingled, and she felt overly hot. It was not how she expected to feel after finally hitting back at those who like to bully others. She felt sick at the thought of all the lives she had just taken. She was sure they were a proud crew only following the orders they were given, whether they agreed with them or not, and now they were gone—murdered by her own hands.
“Captain, are you okay?” Sharon asked as she placed a hand lightly on Linda’s shoulder.
Linda focused her eyes onto Sharon, who stood slightly in front of her, on her right side. As Linda scanned the faces of those in front of her, she could see the crew staring back at her with concern and surprise.
“Yes,” Linda said. It was all she could get out.
“You look ill, Captain. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine!” Linda said, a bit too harshly, causing Sharon to stiffen. Then softening her tone, she added, “Sorry, Sharon. I’m fine.”
Sharon gave her a weak smile, but the shock of whatever she saw on Linda’s face still remained in her wide-eyed expression. Sharon nodded slowly but did not say anything. Linda looked away, feeling ashamed for letting her emotions get out of hand.
Shifting her eyes onto tactical, she studied the position of the remaining ships. In her mind, the faces of the school bullies laughed at her and sang out, “Look what we made you do. Linda is such a loser.” She often heard that when she cried, until she learned to suppress her sobs.
It took all her willpower to push the faces away. She focused harder on the ships to get her mind back onto the problem before her. The two remaining ships that still tried to cut her off were coming into range of the plasma cannon, but she had no desire to fire that weapon ever again. The hatred of those running UMU bubbled up, along with that stupid Admiral, who authorized the redirecting of the Privateer in the first place. She was not a military commander, and the Privateer was not a military vessel, yet they forced her into having to be both.
Turning her attention to the live feed, the damaged ships had disappeared into the distance. Reaching within herself, Linda pulled up the curtain of indifference she had created for herself over the years. Taking a couple of deep, slow breaths, she tried to push everything from her mind to focus solely on getting her ship home safely.
“Orders, Captain?” Sharon asked.
Linda looked up at Sharon and studied the woman’s face. The look of shock had disappeared, and she seemed her old self again. Well sort of, as her normally youthful skin now sported the oily shine from being on duty for too long. Strands of her pulled back hair floated free from the rubber binding that once held them in place. The sight reminded Linda of her own unkempt image when last in front of a mirror. Looking away, she focused on the tactical view again. What orders do I give?
Seeing how the two larger ships continued an angled approach toward her that would intersect at the jump point, she could see that the Privateer would reach it first, but she also was sure they would come within firing range well before she got there. Trying to fight it out with such large ships did not appeal to her. She felt she had been lucky so far, and when that luck ran out, her ship and crew would pay a heavy price for it. A better solution was needed, and fast.
A plan began to form in Linda’s mind. Like an apple tree, the blossoms of an idea bore fruit in the sunlight of reasonable thought. If she couldn’t safely outpac
e the last two ships to the jump point, she would lead them away from it. If there was one tendency these creatures had displayed so far, it was their undeniable passion to chase her all over the system. Why should now be any different?
Yes, Linda could see it in her mind. She would swing the Privateer to port, inviting these aliens to follow her like a flock of geese heading south. If she could coax both ships to follow her around the backside of the planet on the Privateer’s port side, she could simply follow it right on around to the opposite side, and the alien ships would then be powerless to prevent her departure.
“Nav, bring us onto new course two-four-zero,” Linda ordered.
“Are you abandoning our jump point, Captain,” Sharon asked. Her eyes were wide with shock.
“Not at all, Commander,” Linda said. She suddenly felt in control again. “I’m just coming at it from a different angle. We can’t continue on three-three-zero without coming dangerously close to the two remaining ships, and I have no desire to tangle with them. By swinging left, I am putting whoever runs this damn zoo in a tough spot. If he or she tries to cut us off, they will have to go around the opposite side of the planet, and thereby lose sight of us. I don’t think any commander will take a chance like that. Therefore, they will have to swing in behind us in the hope that something will happen to allow them to catch up with us.”
Sharon stared at the tactical view, and Linda suspected she was trying to picture the various scenarios in her mind. Linda smiled to herself at the sudden amusement that the very planet they almost ran into when coming into this system would now act like a blocker to her end run to the goal line—the jump point. She could see it all in her mind, too. If the two ships went around one side of that planet, while she went the other way, she would simply reverse course and double back on them. If the ships follow her around the planet, she could follow the planet’s curvature around and have an open lane to the jump point. Either way, the alien commander would be powerless to prevent her escape.
The Chance Encounter: The Linda Eccles Series - Book One Page 18