by Doug Farren
Taking manual control, Tom disengaged his stardrive and dropped to normal space. The screens flickered as the external sensors switched over to their sub-light mode of operation. Two dots suddenly appeared followed a moment later by descriptive icons identifying them. One was the Barstock and the other was initially identified as an unknown. Checking the unknown’s position, Tom instructed the Orion to list it as the P’nutch.
“Damn it!”
“What is wrong Tom?” the Orion asked.
“Chyr is still tailing the Barstock. She’ll be detected if they’re heading for a sublight vessel.”
“Attempting to contact her will alert any other vessels in the area to our presence,” the AI pointed out. “Also, be advised they will be beyond our detection range in 41 minutes. What are your plans?”
“We know their trajectory,” Tom explained, staring at the screen and wishing he could will Chyr with the power of his mind to do what he was about to do. “As soon as the Barstock drops off our screen, I plan on engaging our stardrive for a short ten minute run at maximum speed to get us back within sublight detector range and then drop back to normal. We’ll keep doing this for as long as necessary. That way, when the Barstock does drop out of stardrive we should be outside their detection range.”
“That will require cycling the stardrive roughly every 2.5 minutes,” the Orion pointed out while doing a near-perfect job of sounding concerned. “My stardrive is not designed for such abuse. I would feel more comfortable if you changed your run time to 15 minutes. That will cut the recycle time to a more tolerable 3.8 minutes although it is still outside of design specs.”
“I hadn’t run the numbers,” Tom admitted, “We’ll do 15 then but no more. Just make sure you keep a close eye on the drive parameters and let me know if we start to approach any safety limits.”
“I always keep a close eye on all of the parameters I monitor.”
For the next 33 hours the Orion raced through space at maximum speed for 15 minutes at a time to catch up to the Barstock before dropping back into normal space to monitor its progress. The constant transitions began to heat up the matrix emitters. It was also torture on Tom. His head felt like a little man was inside his skull pulling on his optic nerve while his stomach was all knotted up into a tight, nauseated ball.
It was a tremendous relief when the Orion finally announced, “The Barstock is slowing.”
Tom tried his best to put his physical ailments aside so he could focus on the long-range detector screen. Sure enough, the cargo vessel was indeed slowing. Unfortunately, only two targets were being painted on his long-range screen. If there was another ship in the area, it was already sublight with its drive systems quiescent. A few minutes later, the Barstock’s icon vanished from the screen. It was quickly followed by the P’nutch, leaving Tom’s long-range screen clear of all contacts.
Tom’s hands danced across the controls, putting the Orion into a stealth configuration as he activated the cloak. While doing so he realized how lucky he had been. The Barstock had begun to slow only a few seconds before he was due to initiate another FTL run. If he had done so, he would have dropped out of stardrive well within the detector range of the Barstock’s apparent destination. Even so, if the AOH detectors were as good as his, there was a small chance he had been spotted.
Chyr’s ship was 0.23 light years from the Barstock—close enough for her to have been detected by the other ship if there was one. Tom desperately wanted to warn her but maintained communication silence.
Twenty minutes later, the Barstock’s icon reappeared on a trajectory that would quickly put it back on its original course. A second icon, identified as the P’nutch appeared a few minutes later. “Smart gal,” Tom said, feeling relieved.
“I do not understand,” the Orion said. “Why did Peacekeeper Chyr continue to follow the Barstock contrary to Sorbith’s orders? It would have made more sense for her to remain in the area.”
“There was nothing on her long-range sensors when she dropped out of stardrive,” Tom explained. “This would tend to indicate that the Barstock had rendezvoused with a ship that was already sublight and would have detected her drive wake. Pretending to continue trailing the Barstock would give the unknown ship a false sense of security.”
“Pretending?”
“I’m sure she’ll drop back to normal the moment she’s out of range. If she’s lucky, she’ll catch the other ship as it leaves.”
“Am I to assume then that she believes you will be doing the same thing?”
“I hope so.”
The Barstock and the P’nutch quickly distanced themselves from the Orion until they dropped off Tom’s long-range sensor. His screens remained blank for another half hour. Suddenly, an unidentified drive wake appeared exactly where the Barstock had been. The icon quickly morphed into one identifying the vessel as an AOH destroyer. Tom smiled, disengaged his cloak, and followed.
Leaning back in the command chair, Tom said, “E4.”
A chessboard sprang into existence on the center console. “E5,” the ship replied, as it took over the job of following the unknown vessel.
Fifteen quick moves later, Tom’s concentration was interrupted by a sharp alert tone. A tactical display instantly replaced the chessboard as the ship said, “Drive wake detected! An AOH destroyer is on an intercept vector.”
A single glance at the tactical display told Tom everything he needed to know. There must have been two ships at the rendezvous point. An AOH destroyer was now bearing down on his position. Since his ship was no match against a destroyer, there was only one thing to do—run.
Chapter 21
Taking manual control, Tom quickly accelerated to maximum velocity and altered his course to head back to Fomalhaut. The destroyer turned to follow. Amazingly, it was able to nearly match the Orion’s speed.
“I am not sure I will be able to maintain this speed much longer,” the ship said. “The stardrive has been stressed by the previous repetitive short runs and I am having difficulty maintaining drive field stability.”
“Break communication silence,” Tom directed. “Transmit our SITREP and request immediate assistance. Include a description of the other AOH ship and its present course.”
“Acknowledged.”
“I thought you were equipped with the latest and fastest stardrive technology available?” Tom asked.
“That is a true statement,” the Orion replied. “It appears as if the AOH also has access to the same technology.”
“We’re still faster than they are although not by much. I wonder why they’re bothering to chase us?” Tom wondered out loud.
“Perhaps they are simply ensuring we remain clear of the other vessel.”
Thirty-five minutes after breaking communication silence, a reply was received from the Alliance base on Fomalhaut. Three battlecruisers had been dispatched and were on the way. Fifteen minutes later, Tom was surprised when the Orion announced it had received a message from Sorbith ordering both himself and Chyr to locate the Barstock and if possible find a way to take the crew into custody.
“Compute the Barstock’s most likely position and alter course,” Tom ordered.
“Acknowledged.”
Since rapid changes in direction were simply not possible at this speed, the Orion was forced to execute a huge turn. “Message from Chyr,” the ship said, a few minutes later, putting the message up on Tom’s center console.
“Tom, I still have the Barstock on my screen. I should be able to intercept in under three hours. I’ll have my ship keep yours updated as to its current course and location. Let’s just hope the AOH doesn’t have any more ships in the area.”
The Orion anticipated Tom’s need, and using the information it had at its disposal, displayed a tactical map on his right monitor. According to the information just received, he was now 1.3 light years from the Barstock’s current position and gaining at a rate of approximately 800c. Assuming Chyr could force the Barstock out of stardrive, he
should be able to join her in about five and a half hours. The warships from Fomalhaut wouldn’t arrive for another ten hours. The odds were not good. Two Seeker class scout ships could not fend off a destroyer for very long.
The destroyer continued to follow the Orion, the distance between them slowly growing. Tom remained seated in the command chair, carefully watching the tactical display as it showed the slowly changing position of the ships as well as keeping a close eye on his stardrive performance indicators. The Barstock continued on a straight-line course directly away from the approaching Alliance battleships as if it knew they were on the way.
“The Barstock is sublight,” Chyr finally reported. “I’ve got a shielded gravity mine locked onto them that will keep them that way for a few hours. I’ve taken a couple of potshots at their shield to let them know I’m in no mood to mess around but they refuse to respond to my hails. I don’t have the firepower to break through their shield unless I use a nuke and that wouldn’t leave much of the crew to question. I’ll hold them until you arrive.”
Tom glanced at the message and noted that the time delay was 4.38 minutes. Setting his FTL transceiver for maximum transmission speed, he replied, “Do you think the both of us can break through their shield? The AOH destroyer will arrive less than an hour after I get there.”
The ten-minute round-trip delay seemed to take forever. “I think we can,” she said, “I just hope we have enough time to extract the crew. I’ll have an attack plan ready to execute by the time you arrive.”
“Orion, power all weapons,” Tom ordered. “As soon as you can, link with the P’nutch and carry out Chyr’s attack plan.”
“Acknowledged.”
Tom stared at the tactical display; it was like watching a movie playing in slow motion. He allowed the ship’s AI, with its far faster response, to control the precise moment when they dropped out of stardrive. The Orion abruptly slowed as it approached Chyr’s position then suddenly reappeared in normal space. The two ships instantly linked their tactical data systems together and launched a coordinated attack against the Barstock.
Two antimatter-enhanced particle beams lashed out striking the Barstock’s shield at a single point. At the same time, two narrowly focused lasers struck the same spot. Unable to hold back the terrific energy being delivered against such a tiny point on its surface, the shield began to leak. A few seconds later, a missile erupted from the P’nutch. It quickly crossed the distance between the two ships and exploded in a brilliant flashbulb of nuclear fire.
Based on the tactical data gathered during the first few seconds of the attack, the point of detonation was carefully calculated to heavily load but not overload the Barstock’s shield, allowing the energy weapons to more fully penetrate. The armor plating resisted the onslaught for several microseconds but failed to stop the beams from making their way toward the target—the shield generator.
Tom felt a thump as a missile left the Orion. Another actinic explosion appeared allowing the beams to bore even further into the cargo ship. Eighteen seconds after beginning the attack, the Barstock’s shield ceased to exist. Three seconds later, the stardrive died. The weapons from the two scout ships spent a few more seconds rendering the lightly armed cargo ship completely helpless.
“Great work,” Chyr’s voice came through loud and clear. “Moving in to board.”
“Better make it fast,” Tom said. “We’re no match for a destroyer and it will be here in 48 minutes.”
“Plenty of time to…”
The Barstock suddenly became a ball of rapidly expanding incandescent gas.
“Chyr, are you okay?” Tom asked.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “I guess we won’t be taking any prisoners today.”
“Why’d they do that?” Tom asked, suddenly angry. “Is any cause worth committing suicide over?”
“They apparently thought so. I think our work here is done. Setting course for Earth.”
Tom stared at the still-glowing remains of the cargo vessel, unable to comprehend why anyone would choose to end their own life rather than be captured. Didn’t they know they would be treated well? Life was precious and the crew of the Barstock had chosen to end theirs for no apparent reason.
“Orion,” Tom said, using the biolink instead of speaking aloud. “Take us back to Earth.”
The ship complied but made no acknowledgment of the order. Although the AI itself was devoid of emotion, it understood them well enough to know when someone wanted to be left alone.
Hours later, Tom got up and made himself a small meal. While he was eating, the Orion said, “The Army Of Humanity began as a terrorist organization with many of its members coming from cultures where self-sacrifice was considered an honorable way to die. Although terrorism was rarely successful in achieving the goals of those who employed it, it was quite common when the AOH was formed. It is therefore not surprising that the crew of the Barstock chose to end their lives.”
“But it’s a senseless death!” Tom replied. “We don’t torture prisoners. To so casually and quickly end one’s life is just plain stupidity. Why would anyone think that committing suicide is an honorable way to die?”
“There are many examples throughout Terran history of cultures where suicide was considered an honorable death especially if the person was able to kill or injure a number of the enemy while doing so. This belief is also not limited to Terrans. Other cultures have, and in some instances still have, such beliefs.”
Tom shook his head. “I still don’t understand it. Makes no sense at all to me.”
“The cultural norms of many societies are often difficult for others to understand. Acceptance of how others behave and of their individual beliefs is a necessity in your position as a Peacekeeper.”
Tom smiled. “You’re beginning to sound like one of my instructors at the academy.”
“It is my duty to reinforce what you learned at the academy,” the ship replied. “If you would like, I can tell you everything that is known about the cultural background of the AOH before the members were forced to leave Earth.”
“It might help to have that information,” Tom said. “But right now, I’m going to get some sleep.”
* * * * *
Several hours before landing at the Sydney spaceport, the Orion pulled Tom’s messages that had been waiting for his return. One of them was a voicemail from John Muldalga. “Hi Tom,” John’s friendly voice boomed out of the speaker. “John Muldalga calling. I’ve been thinking about your suggestion and thought I would like to try the cuisine at Restaurant Steirereck whenever you get the time. Let me know when you can make it.”
Tom could barely contain his enthusiasm. He had been right!
“Orion, is Sorbith on Earth yet?”
There was a few seconds delay as the ship queried the network. “Sorbith is not in the Sol system.”
Damn. “What is the current time at Tanami station?”
“2:41 AM.”
Double damn! Waking John up at this time of the morning to discuss a dinner reservation would raise a lot of eyebrows. Despite the fact that he desperately wanted to find out what John had discovered, Tom decided that waiting would be the more prudent approach.
“See if you can’t get an early appointment to see John Muldalga. Don’t make it an urgent request.”
There was another short delay before the ship said, “You have an appointment to see him at 0700 this morning. I am making the appropriate arrangements with Tanami station. I should also mention that the repeated FTL transitions have stressed the stardrive. I recommend scheduling a maintenance layover while we are here.”
"That could take several days. We will wait to see if Sorbith has anything else for us to do."
After landing at the Sydney spaceport, Tom extended an invitation to Chyr to have breakfast with him in one of the port’s 24-hour restaurants. She quickly agreed. They’d been in space for nearly three weeks and neither of them felt like being alone.
“I wonder whe
re Sorbith is?” Tom asked, after they were seated in the near empty restaurant.
“He was well on his way to his next stop,” Chyr said. “It’s going to take him awhile longer to get back.”
They put their conversation on hold when the server arrived and took their order.
“How many other ships do you think they have?” Tom asked, keeping his voice low and the conversation as general as he could.
Chyr shook her head. “I don’t know, but now that I know what to look for it should be easy to figure out.”
Tom looked around the room. Nobody was seated anywhere near them. “I’ll bet it’s going to become a lot easier,” he said. “The AOH knows we were tracking the Barstock. They’ll recall every single ship under their control. All we need do is look to see how many ships vanish over the next few weeks.”
Chyr suddenly stiffened, a look of alarm appearing on her face. At first Tom wondered if he had been too bold in discussing the topic outside of a level one security zone but changed his mind when she said, “And they’ll take their entire load of weapons with them!”
“Military escorts!” Tom blurted out.
“I’ll send the order,” Chyr said. Their breakfast arrived as she communicated with her ship via her biolink. After the server departed, she said, “A priority one order has been transmitted to all facilities throughout the entire Alliance, ordering all cargo vessels to be required to have a military escort while transporting weapons.”
“We may have jumped the gun too soon in following the Barstock,” Tom said, applying a generous covering of hot sauce over his scrambled eggs.
“I agree,” she replied, wrinkling her nose. “And we really shouldn’t be talking about this in public.”
“I think the secret’s out,” Tom said. “Besides, the place is empty.”