by G J Ogden
“But what?” Sterling asked.
“But it won’t matter to him,” the woman said, her eyes falling to the floor. “The Marshal’s father, I mean. He won’t ever let it go.”
Sterling nodded and the woman moved away. Cursing under his breath, Sterling surveyed the scene of carnage at his feet. He’d hoped that the Marshals would see sense and leave them alone after his show of strength. However, deep down in his gut he knew this wouldn’t be the last time he’d have to deal with the Void’s so-called lawmen.
Chapter 15
A game of hide and seek
Sterling rested the palms of his hands onto the sides of his captain’s console and scrutinized Far Deep Nine on the viewscreen. The disused private mining operation had been only a short surge from Oasis Colony, so the journey had been swift. It also hadn’t taken long for them to realize that the supposedly abandoned operation was no longer mothballed.
“Long-range scanners are detecting Sa’Nerran ships in the system,” said Commander Banks, peering down at her console. “Luckily, our surge went undetected. They’re clearly not expecting visitors.”
Sterling glanced down at his console and examined the scan data for the system. Far Deep Nine had turned out not to be a single space station, as Sterling had assumed, but an entire chain of mining installations. The whole operation was vast, spanning hundreds of thousands of miles.
“Ensign Keller, find us somewhere to hide in all this debris,” Sterling called out to his helmsman. “Maneuver using thrusters only if you can. If we can get in and out without attracting any attention then I’d prefer it.”
“Aye, sir,” Keller replied, smartly.
Ensign Keller then began to maneuver the ship toward one of the medium-sized chunks of planetary debris. It was pockmarked with holes where a previous mining operation had already stripped it clean of valuable resources. The remains of the small mining outpost were still visible on the surface, but it too was now cratered with impacts from the stellar flotsam flying around the system.
“Fleet records show that the fourth planet in this system was destroyed by a massive collision a few million years ago,” Commander Banks went on, still studying the information on her console. “It was caused either by a massive asteroid or more likely another planet. But whatever it was, it left the mess we see here.”
“So, how come Far Deep Nine was abandoned?” asked Sterling, as Keller moved them close to the surface of the planetary fragment. “Surely, there are still huge quantities of valuable resources here?”
Commander Banks tapped her console and the image of a Sa’Nerran Heavy Cruiser appeared on the viewscreen.
“Basically, that thing showed up and spoiled the party,” Banks said, pointing to the behemoth vessel on the screen. “This used to be a private, commercial operation and they were simply unable to defend themselves once the aliens arrived.”
Sterling shook his head. “They’re like damned vultures, picking the galaxy clean,” he said, glowering at the alien vessel. “Fleet may have abandoned these systems, but this is still the Fleet half of the Void. We should never had allowed the Sa’Nerra to encroach so deeply, unchallenged.”
The passion in Sterling’s voice seemed to stir up similar resentment in Banks.
“You should talk to Admiral Griffin when we get back,” Banks said, with similar vim. “I’d love to come out with a taskforce and evict these parasites.”
Lieutenant Shade’s console then chimed an alert, distracting them both from their warmongering thoughts.
“We have a Sa’Nerran Wasp inbound from the debris field,” said Lieutenant Shade, bringing up an image of the small, one-man fighter on the viewscreen. “It’s likely that that cruiser has picked up our residual surge energy and has sent the wasp to investigate.”
Sterling tapped his console and brought up the image of the cruiser, placing it side-by-side with the wasp on the screen.
“Tactical analysis, Lieutenant,” said Sterling, scowling at the robust-looking Sa’Nerran cruiser. “What are we dealing with here?”
Shade answered without delay. She had clearly already performed her tactical analysis of the vessel in preparation for such a question.
“It’s a modified phase-three heavy battlecruiser, sir,” said Shade, overlaying some technical data about the vessel onto the viewscreen. “It looks like a significant portion of the ship has been adapted to function as additional cargo space. From the energy it’s putting out, I’d say the reactor core had been heavily modified. It’s possible there is even a secondary reactor active.”
“Why does the thing need two reactors?” asked Banks.
Shade again answered without delay. “The cruiser has been retrofitted with an array of class one mining lasers, which have replaced its plasma cannons. The lasers draw significantly more power.”
Sterling studied all the information on the screen, while listening to Shade’s succinct report. “So it’s basically a heavily armed and armored freighter,” he said, glancing across to Banks.
“It makes sense,” his first officer replied. “Freighters are slow and easy targets, especially this deep into the Fleet side of the Void. So instead, they hollowed out a massive warship and injected it with steroids.”
The tactical display of the Sa’Nerran cruiser updated to highlight the weapons systems. Banks blew out a long, low whistle as she read the screen.
“That cruiser's mining lasers could slice a Dreadnaught in half, but they’re tuned for short-range use,” Shade continued. “Other than the lasers, we’re looking at just a single bank of plasma cannons on the port and starboard sides, plus limited point defense guns.”
“No torpedoes?” asked Banks.
Shade shook her head. “There’s not much of anything else,” she replied. “In fact, I’d say based on the proportion of the vessel that has been given over to cargo space, power generation and mining equipment, it could only have a crew of maybe a hundred at most.”
Sterling peered out at the cruiser again, tapping his finger on the side of his console. The Invictus was a formidable weapon for its size, but even he knew that taking on a phase-three heavy cruiser solo was a one-way ticket to oblivion. Yet, the vessel in front of them was not a typical warship. The extensive modifications to its design must have led to comprises being made in some aspects of its offensive and defensive capabilities. They just had to find the vessel’s ‘Achilles heel,’ Sterling thought.
“Continue your tactical analysis, Lieutenant,” said Sterling, pushing away from his console and standing tall. “I want you to find us a weakness. Something that will allow us to take it down, if we’re detected.”
“Aye, sir,” replied Shade, with more verve that he was used to hearing from his weapons officer. Shade appeared to be relishing the opportunity to potentially take on a much bigger ship.
“The wasp appears to be scanning the aperture,” Commander Banks then announced.
Sterling turned his attention to the second half of the viewscreen. He’d almost forgotten about the little one-man fighter than was buzzing around in space close to their location.
“Any suggestion that it’s picked up our scent?” asked Sterling, now studying the ship, which was little bigger than a single-seater training aircraft.
Banks shook her head. “Not yet, though it’s certainly taking its sweet time,” she said. Banks’ console then chimed an update and she cursed. “It’s on the move again, she said, glancing over to Sterling. “It’s heading toward this planetary fragment.”
Sterling let out a gasp of exasperation then studied the updated readings on his own console. The Sa’Nerran fighter was heading toward them fast.
“If that wasp sees us then there’s no chance of finding Colicos, assuming he’s even still here,” Banks continued.
The sighting of and subsequent analysis of the heavy cruiser had distracted Sterling from the reason they were in the system in the first place. Until Banks had mentioned it, he hadn’t even considered that t
he exiled Fleet scientist might no longer be there. In fact, he knew it was entirely possible that Colicos had never been in the system at all, and they were simply on a wild goose chase. All that they had to go on was his guess that ‘Fardepp-Neyn’ – the place that Dana from the Hotel Grand had misheard Colicos talking about – was actually Far Deep Nine. It was a stretch, but hunches and intuitions were all they had.
“Before I decide what to do about our incoming problem, is there any evidence our man is or ever was here?” Sterling asked, directing the question at Banks. “If he’s not here then we’re just wasting our time.”
Banks returned to her console while Sterling kept a close eye on the wasp. He knew that the small, one-man Sa’Nerran fighter had limited scanning capabilities, but he also knew that it was impossible to completely hide a ship like the Invictus from detection. He didn’t want to risk a confrontation with the powerful heavy cruiser for nothing.
“The wasp will be in scanning range in three minutes,” said Lieutenant Shade. “I can easily take it down just using the plasma turrets, sir. Shall I get a target lock?”
“Hold for now, Lieutenant,” replied Sterling, while still watching Banks work. “Destroying the wasp is a surefire way to get that cruiser’s attention. We can’t find Colicos or learn more about where he might have gone if we’re locked in battle with that heavyweight.”
“Aye, sir,” Shade replied, though her eagerness to get into close action was clear.
“I’m managed to interrogate Far Deep Nine’s central computer core and gain access to the traffic logs,” Banks said, while still working her console. “A civilian shuttle regularly visited a research station seventy-thousand kliks from where that cruiser is currently drilling for resources. The records say its origin point was Oasis Colony.”
Sterling nodded. “That sounds like it could be our man,” he said, turning to his own console. “Now we only need to get this damned wasp off our scent.”
Sterling switched to a scan of the planetary fragment they were hiding behind and studied its scarred surface.
“Ensign, is there any way you can get us inside one of these craters?” said Sterling, glancing at the back of Keller’s head.
“Aye sir, several of them are large enough and deep enough to fit the Invictus into,” Keller replied, still with his eyes front, focused on his console.
“I’d suggest this crater is our best chance.”
Sterling spun around to see Lieutenant Razor. She was standing tall, hands pressed to the small of her back, in front of the auxiliary consoles at the rear of the bridge. The consoles were configured to the chief engineer’s usual arrangement of engineering readouts. This in itself wasn’t unusual, except for the fact Razor had not been there several minutes earlier.
“Where the hell did you come from?” said Sterling, feeling his heart thumping hard in his chest. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry, Captain, I was in the engineering crawlspace, locking down the source of an energy fluctuation. Those engineers on F-COP don’t know one end of a spanner from the other,” Razor replied, appearing unconcerned by her captain’s startled reaction. “I just decided it was more expedient if I exited directly onto the bridge.”
“Fine, but let me know next time,” replied Sterling, frowning at his engineer. “Or, better still, use the damned door, like everyone else.”
“Aye, Captain, as you wish,” replied Razor. Her softly-shimmering, skin and dazzling augmented blue eyes displayed no sign of embarrassment or offence.
Sterling took a deep breath, feeling his heart-rate stabilize. He hated being snuck up on, and this was the third time it had happened in a twenty-four-hour period.
“Well, now that you’re here, Lieutenant, what’s so special about this crater you’ve identified?” Sterling asked.
Razor turned to one of her stations and worked the console for a few seconds. The scan of the planetary fragment that Sterling had been looking at on his captain’s console then appeared on the viewscreen.
“The walls of this crater contain a high concentration of heavy metals that will effectively shield the Invictus from the Wasp’s very limited scanning capabilities,” Razor said. She had turned back to face Sterling, hands again pressed to the small of her back.
“Won’t it also blind our scanners?” asked Commander Banks.
“Yes, Commander, it will,” replied Razor. “However, we can approximate how long it will take for the Wasp to scan this fragment and move out of scanner range again.”
“It would need to be a good guess,” Banks replied, looking doubtful. “We don’t want to poke our head out too early and get detected. Nor do we want to hang around long enough for that cruiser to potentially draw closer.”
“How long do we need to wait, Lieutenant?” Sterling asked, agreeing with Banks’ assessment.
“Fourteen minutes, fifty-two seconds, sir,” replied Razor without delay.
Sterling raised a quizzical eyebrow. “How exactly did you work that out?” he asked.
“I took into account the wasp’s current velocity and deceleration curve, the time required to run a scan of this planetary fragment, and the time needed to once again move out of scanning range,” Razor replied again without hesitation. The albino-engineer then shrugged. “Though we can call it fifteen minutes to be safe, sir.”
Banks huffed a laugh. “Fifteen minutes, huh?”
“Give or take a few seconds, Commander, yes,” said Razor, calmly.
Banks turned to the captain’s console, though Sterling could already see that the doubt had left her eyes. Katreena Razor may have been a little unusual in her methods, but there was no doubt the engineer was thorough.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Banks asked.
“Well, the wasp could blast the crater to pieces and seal us inside like some sort of Egyptian mummy,” suggested Sterling.
Banks raised her eyebrows and turned back to Razor. The ship’s first officer had clearly not considered Sterling’s rather bleak-sounding worst-case scenario. Banks appeared to be hoping that the chief-engineer had done.
“The weapons of a Sa’Nerran Wasp lack the power to collapse this crater,” the unflappable engineer replied. “The worst it could manage is to cause some debris to rain down on our armor.”
Sterling sucked in another deep breath then glanced down at his console. He was running out of time to make a choice. The wasp would be within scanning range in only a couple of minutes. He tapped his finger against the side of his console, weighing up the options, then glanced over at Ensign Keller. This time, his helmsman had spun his seat around to face him and was eagerly awaiting instructions.
“Park us in that crater Ensign, and be quick about it,” said Sterling, announcing his decision.
“Aye, sir,” replied Keller, spinning his chair around to face the helm controls.
Sterling felt a subtle shudder through the decks plates that sometimes occurred in the microseconds before the inertial negation systems kicked in. Like a dog whistle, most people on the ship wouldn’t be able to detect it, but Sterling was attuned to every rumble and shimmy the Invictus felt. The dizzying view through the viewscreen explained the sensation. Keller was having to employ all of his piloting chops to move the Marauder-class vessel into the dark pit before the wasp arrived. It not only required speed, but also precision. Alarms rang out on Sterling’s console as the ship moved perilously close to the edge of the crater. He almost felt like calling out, “Steady as she goes, Ensign,” but then realized how counter-productive that would be. Steadiness was not the trait they needed right now. Luckily, it was also not a trait common to Omega officers, who were more inclined to rush in where angels – and anyone with a healthy sense of danger – feared to tread. Sterling felt another minute kick through the deck then Keller lifted his hands from the helm controls.
“We’re in position, Captain,” said Keller, spinning his chair to face the command platform again. “Thrusters are at station-
keeping.”
“Lieutenant Razor, reduce our power signature to the lowest you can get away with, without compromising our ability to react fast if we need to,” Sterling said, aiming the statement over his shoulder.
“Aye, Captain, reducing power now,” replied Razor, promptly.
Nothing on the bridge indicated that their energy output had reduced, other than the power level reading on his captain’s console. However, Sterling could still feel the thrum of the reactor change. It was like a heartbeat slowing down when a person drifted off to sleep.
“Countdown started. Clock set to fifteen minutes,” said Commander Banks.
Banks walked over to Sterling and rested on the captain’s console. He noticed that she looked agitated, as if she were waiting for some medical test results to come through.
“Relax Commander, we might be buried, but we’re not dead,” said Sterling, attempting to set his first officer’s mind at ease. However, from the look of consternation on Banks’ face, he wasn’t sure that his metaphor had done the trick.
“I hate being cooped up like this,” Banks said, folding her powerful arms across her chest.
Sterling glanced down at his console then shrugged. “Well, there are only fourteen and a half minutes to go…” he said, smiling. His attempt to make Banks feel more at ease again fell flat.
Sterling had never been a clock-watcher, and he generally relied on the computer – or Commander Banks – to remind him of the time. However, their fifteen-minute wait inside the crater in the planetary fragment felt like a lifetime. Everyone on the bridge remained silent, so that the hum of the energy conduits and the soft bleeps of the engineering consoles sounded as loud as thunderclaps. Banks remained on edge and Sterling discovered that her edginess was contagious. Soon, he was pacing up and down the command platform, waiting for the clock to run down, or the wasp to attack. Razor merely continued to work at her stations, as if it were just another duty shift, while Lieutenant Shade was her usual, cast-iron self.