by E A Wicklund
"Wait one, still processing the data.” She paused and then locked eyes with him. “It’s a Madkhali warship.”
McCray swore under his breath. “Damn it, damn it.” The demon, Murphy, and his accursed Law seemed in full effect here. The very worst thing that could happen was happening.
“Sayed-Class Light Cruiser," continued Warwick. Her fingers danced across her displays. "Power output appears standard. Her max accel should be 327 gees, far slower than us. She's got six 980 Megawatt lasers — a destroyer's guns, just more of them. She's missile-heavy. Optics show six missile launchers. If all is standard she can launch a full salvo of her Kaiton missiles every sixteen seconds."
"Good report. Thank you."
Commander Zahn suddenly appeared beside McCray. "IS-3 swore we’d never see a Madkhali warship this big," he said, raising an eyebrow. Zahn’s rubbery face made any of his expressions overly dramatic.
McCray grimaced. “Oh yeah. And IS-3 is always right.” They often were correct, but the covert nature of their work meant they had to extrapolate from educated guesses. A smart commander never completely relied on guesses, even good ones.
Thinking fast, he examined the data descriptions beside the contact in the tank. Unlike popular media depictions, contacts didn't look like miniature spaceships. They looked like real sensor returns, amorphous blobs indicating relative position only. Colorful symbols and text around the blobs described everything they knew about them. His gaze bored into the contact hoping to compel it to give up its secrets.
"Signal the ship?" prompted Ando.
"No," he said. "Let’s not encourage contact. We’ll leave it to them to take charge if they want to. What clothing is Springbok wearing today?"
"Bardeaux Shipping Lines, sir."
"Very well. We'll need Bardeaux Shipping avatars if you please."
"Of course, sir. I'll apply your Captain LeTraub persona."
He look up at the FT and noted his outbound avatar sported an aquiline nose and a stylish, slender mustache. "Excellent choice. Status, Guns?"
"All weapons in the green. Cleared for action," said Piper.
“Very well.” Where was this ship a week ago when they were still in fighting trim, wondered McCray. “All right, people. This may or not be the Madkhali of ill repute we we’re looking for. As it is, we’ll play it cool.” With any luck, he thought, this wasn’t a captain with the intent to engage in piracy. It was entirely possible, even likely. After all, during the cold war between Madkhal and Elysium, warships from both sides routinely sailed into each other’s territory, simply showing the flag. Smaller ships like the Sayed-class could pass through unmolested in the spirit of peace and cooperation between the two antagonists. The larger, capital vessels needed an engraved invitation.
“Aspect change,” barked Warwick. “The cruiser is now on an intercept course.”
That wasn’t good, but it didn’t mean a fight was coming. Best to be prepared, just in case the very worst befell them "Battle Stations, Prime," said McCray in a calm voice.
Commander Zahn's voice rang out across the ship among the insistent shrieks of alarms. "Battle stations! Battle stations! All hands man your battle stations."
"Helm, standby for flank speed. We may need to run for it at a moment’s notice.”
"Copy that, sir," said Raj.
McCray watched the helmsman program a macro into his screen. With a single tap, Springbok would bolt ahead at maximum acceleration.
His attention flicked back to the incoming ship and it’s aggressive course.
"It seems they’re interested in us, Ando," said McCray. They ought to be calling us any time now.”
"Incoming signal!"
"There we go. In the the tank, if you please."
A man with a full beard replaced the solar system in the tank. He held his chin high as though a noble addressing a servant with a tea caddy. "I am Captain Stephen Mallouk, commanding DPS Scirroco. Explain your presence in Madkhali space."
The image of the captain froze as the transmission ceased.
"Madkhali space?" murmured McCray.
"I was just consulting the star charts," noted Zahn, dryly. "Star system Gershon is still in Elysium space. It hasn't moved at all."
"Looks to me like he’s playing the big bully on the playground,” said McCray, tapping at his chin. “And making up excuses to start trouble. We need to be boring and uninteresting. Record for our reply, Ando."
Ando nodded that he was ready.
"Captain Mallouk. I am Captain LeTraub, EFS Princely Dawn, Bardeaux Shipping Lines. We were unaware that we had ventured into Madkhali space. We believed this is Gershon."
A gesture to Ando and the message flashed away.
"Sixteen seconds minimum for a reply, Cap'n."
Zahn opened a private channel to McCray, allowing a conversation no one else on the bridge could hear. "This fellow is definitely Madkhali and it seems like he wants to go a’piratin’, Skipper. Isn’t he what we’re looking for?"
"I concur, Prime, but no one expected us to tangle with a light cruiser. We’re a Q-ship, a merchant raider. We’re not armored well enough to fight a true-blue man o’ war. Add to it, our hyperdrive is down. We can’t escape into hyperspace if we need to."
At last, the reply from the cruiser arrived.
"To you Elysian heathens it is Gershon," sneered Mallouk. "The correct Democratic Peoples of Madkhal name is Beniziat, but I believe you already knew that. Explain at once why you are spying in Madkhali space."
"Captain, I protest," replied McCray. "We are no spies. We are honest shippers enroute to pick up computer parts in Huralon."
The recording ended and sent, McCray looked askance at Zahn in the seat beside him. "If our holds are empty, we shouldn’t be interesting to him." He angrily ran his hand through his short, dark hair, not believing he had to say such a thing. Finding such a ship was their entire mission, and now they must give up the prey. McCray could hear the Admiralty Court’s decision now, ‘Captain McCray is hereby placed on Administrative Leave until a more suitable command may be assigned.’ It hardly mattered that avoiding an engagement in this situation was the smartest move. His politically-motivated enemies in the Admiralty would ruthlessly use it to advantage. He held back a groan as his worst nightmare seemed to unfold before his eyes.
Scirocco continued to close on Springbok and the reply came back in twelve seconds. "I find I cannot believe this claim. We have information that indicates you are spying on the innocent people of the Democratic Peoples of Madkhal."
McCray wanted to spit. You lying sack of shit.
"Shut down your drives and heave to,” continued Mallouk. “Stand by to be boarded and inspected. Any contraband will be forfeited and redistributed to the rightful owners."
Meaning you, thought McCray.
"Captain," he warned. "You have no right to board an Elysium-flagged vessel legally operating in Elysium space. Boarding us is tantamount to an act of war. I'm certain that's not what your government wants."
"Silence! Heave to immediately and submit to inspection. Follow the orders of boarding parties or be shot down like dogs. Only an inspection can verify your spurious claims of innocence. Follow your instructions exactly or be destroyed!"
The soft murmur of voices on the bridge ceased; all eyes turned to McCray. There was no way he was letting this scoundrel’s men aboard his ship. He turned to Raj. The helmsman watched him expectantly. With Scirocco closing on them, the time to run was now.
***
Aja was in a dead sleep with the alarm klaxons sounded. Red lights flashed as she sat bolt upright. She could hear the feet of crewman racing to their battlestations, outside the hatch. Although not a regular crewmember, she had a position of her own and that was monitoring the activity on the bridge.
She climbed into her sarco, squinting against the interior lights, and jacked in. “What’s happening Archimedes?” she said.
“A Madkhali cruiser, Ms. Coopersmith,” said the AI. �
�Quite a bit outside our weight class, I’m afraid.” In just a few moments it helped her collect the salient data.
Stephen Mallouk. Subject Mordred had finally arrived, but under the worst circumstances possible. He was supposed to be commanding a frigate, a warship that Scirocco could reasonably defeat if it came to a fight, but a light cruiser was far too powerful. Worse, Springbok couldn’t run into hyperspace if she needed to. She expected McCray was planning to run for it, and who could blame him?
Thinking hard, she tried to think of a plausible plan of action, one McCray could accept and one that didn’t reveal the true intent of their mission; a detail hidden even from Scirocco’s captain. At the last moment, she opened a comms screen beside McCray, calling for his attention.
His spoke tersely, his words clipped, “Ms. Coopersmith, I’m very busy here. Do you have something important for me?”
“Captain, if you’re thinking of running, don’t.”
“I hope you’ve got a helluva good reason, because we aren’t equipped to tangle with a cruiser.”
“Our best move in this case is escaping into hyperspace, right?”
“Right, but we can’t. Hyper is down.”
“If we run in normal space, we’re just playing to their strengths. Scirocco is missile-heavy; a chase will just invite a missile attack, and ultimately we don’t have the defenses to withstand that.”
McCray scratched at his cheek. “Concur. So what do you suggest?”
Aja was making this up as she went and she felt herself gaining momentum, a skeleton of a plan forming. “If they want to board us, let them.”
The captain looked shocked. “That’s insane.”
“Hear me out. Up close, they can’t use their missiles. We have greater tactical flexibility. We have more options.”
McCray squinted suspiciously. “Ms. Coopersmith is there something you know that I don’t?”
“No, sir.” As an experienced operative, she could lie with the very best. “Running just reduces our options to just one. We’ve got resources aboard that give us many choices if they try to board. Let’s use them.”
McCray turned to look into the tank, obviously weighing his options. “All right, Ms. Coopersmith, we’ll do it your way. You’d better have some good ideas or we’re all dead. McCray out.”
***
"Standby to record, Ando," said McCray. He waited until Ando signaled. "Captain Mallouk, we will comply. Bringing shields and drives down now."
“Message sent,” said Ando. The look of anxiety on his face reflected McCray’s hidden thoughts.
“Helm, place our paddles in standby.”
“Captain,” said Warwick. “Permission to engage the Interference Patterner. If we don’t Scirocco will detect paddles in standby and they’ll know they aren’t shutdown.”
“Very well. Permission granted.”
"Captain," said Zahn, on a private channel once more. "If you've got a plan for taking on this Maddie, the crew might do well to hear it now."
McCray gazed around the bridge. Even though the faces he watched were simulated ones, the avatars accurately reflected the users' emotional state. McCray saw tension and trepidation sweeping across the bridge.
"Nothing solid,” he answered. “But it seems like Ms. Coopersmith has some ideas. I do too. We’ll have to make a plan together." McCray closed the channel with Zahn and addressed the bridge. "Ando. We need a quick meeting, immediately. All bridge and senior officers will attend."
"Copy that, sir. Initiating...now."
Chapter 04
It only took a moment for the bridge’s environment to dissolve and a meeting room to materialize. The Captain’s meeting room sported wood paneling on the bulkheads and paintings of famous battles. The Alpha and Bravo bridge teams, Engineering, Marines, and Medical heads attending sat in roomy, plush chairs. Charlie bridge team still manned the bridge, but could monitor the proceedings.
McCray began the meeting immediately, “Everyone. We have little time, so I won’t sugar-coat things. To sum up the situation: while Springbok proved combat-effective against a sloop of war, we are now facing a cruiser. DPS Scirocco is way out of our league. The smartest move would have been to dive into hyperspace and lose her there. Unfortunately, our hyperdrive isn’t available, and that’s what places us in real trouble. I’ve elected to allow Scirocco to close and board us. We will fight another way. Personally, I have ideas on how we can still take down the Scirocco, but I’d like to hear your thoughts.”
The more than twenty officers and enlisted personnel looked around at each other for a moment. McCray understood their hesitation. Plenty of captains in the fleet claimed their door was open and invited honest opinions from junior officers. Too often, such offers weren’t sincere. The natural reflexes of the crew told them to keep their traps shut despite his encouragement.
During the nine months of working together, McCray had made certain his door truly was open. Even so, old habits were hard to break. The crew seemed reluctant to say anything.
Sitting at his right hand, Aja spoke up. “Sir, we don’t need to fight Scirocco. All we need is her captain.”
McCray looked at her with a bit of surprise. That was an unusual interpretation of their orders. The way he remembered it, they only needed proof of Madkhali captains engaging in piracy. They already had that. The recordings would show Mallouk insisted upon an illegal search and seizure. They had their proof already, according to the directives. No capture of a captain was ever mentioned. “Please explain, Ms. Coopersmith.”
Aja’s eyes lit up. This was her field of expertise, after all. “While they’re boarding us, they invite an opportunity for counter-boarding. I can slip across in one of the marine shuttles. While operating in Space Black, they’ll never see me. Radar won’t detect my approach. I’ll slip aboard, capture Mallouk and come back. While we have their captain, they wouldn’t dare fire on us. We hold out until the hyperdrive is repaired and slip away.”
McCray stared at her. While he’d seen her personnel file, most of it was redacted for him, so he couldn’t consult much of her after action reports. He wondered if she could really pull that off, and deep in his gut he thought she could. Still, he couldn’t help also thinking, this woman is crazy. He looked around the table and noticed everyone else looked doubtful. Ando and Gui looked shocked. He knew they understood her as a skilled intelligence analyst, but not all knew she specialized in ‘wet work’.
Aja watched her shipmates, apparently perplexed by their reactions. “Any questions?”
“Pardon me, ma’am,” said Ando. “But isn’t that a suicide mission?”
Aja shook her head. “This would be one of the easier ones I’ve completed.”
Ando looked perplexed and terrified all at once.
McCray cleared his throat. “Perhaps we can develop some other plans and compare the strengths and weaknesses of each?”
Aja leaned back, looking disappointed she didn’t get overwhelming support.. “Have at it.”
“The way I see it,” said Piper. “For a boarding action, Scirocco would close to within about one quarter-light second, right?”
“Go on,” said McCray, hoping his gunnery officer would offer a suggestion better than his own, radical idea. Now wasn’t the time for junior officer timidity. He needed solutions.
“Two warships wouldn’t close to such a range. Laser hits from so close would be almost guaranteed. The result would be assured mutual destruction. In that scenario neither would initiate firing, but Scirocco doesn’t know we can fire back. She thinks she’s safe, so she’ll consider firing to be a safe proposition.”
“Right,” agreed McCray, a little disappointed. He wanted answers, not a clarification of the problem. “That still leaves us where we are.”
“The thing to remember,” Aja said into the silence. “The ship over there may be powerful, but don’t expect the people crewing it to be as motivated or talented as you. The Madkhali Elites live like royalty while their commone
rs are a beaten, half-starved people.”
Commander Althea Bijou, ship’s chief medical officer, puffed hard on her vape stick and said. “There’s plenty of medical literature on that. Though military personnel people eat better, punishments are meted out by withholding rations. Nearly everyone we’ve examined displayed nutritional deficiencies. Add to it, beatings, and punishments are frequent. Studies indicate a typical Madkhali spacer is just as smart as any Elysian, but they aren’t nearly as well motivated.”
McCray turned to Aja for a moment, wondering if her plan wasn’t so crazy after all.
“I think we can take her if we’re smart,” said Piper. “We just have to do it from inside their own ship. A counter-boarding maneuver makes the most sense to me, but that’s just a guess. I’m no marine.”
“I agree with Piper,” said Gui. McCray was pleased to hear from his Chief Engineer on this. “The Sayeds are nothing to sneeze at. We should bring our more special effects into play.”
“You mean the Reapers?” said McCray.
“Yes.” They’re incredible pieces of kit. This is the perfect moment for them.”
“I’m just nervous with shields and paddles down,” said Warwick. She paused, looking askance at Captain McCray. After an encouraging nod from him, she continued. “We’ve gamed out a lot of scenarios, but never one where our pants are down against a warship this powerful.”
“Good point, Eyes,” said McCray. “You too, Piper, but so far, all we have is good points. I haven’t heard a concrete solution yet.” He held up a placating hand. “That’s not an admonition, rather an understandable result. We aren’t supposed to be in this fix, so I’m pretty sure the Admiralty wouldn’t have an answer either. Still, I have a plan I haven’t discussed with most of you yet. I’ll need your thoughts on it.” He turned to Marine Major Annette Candless. The half-Filipino, half Somali/Swede sat arrow straight in her chair, perfectly aware of where McCray was going.
“Yes, sir,” she said, “and if I may add, I think the plan could accommodate Gui’s Reapers in an effective way.”