by G J Ogden
“Something wrong with that chair, Lieutenant?” asked Sterling, regarding his engineer with a quizzical eye.
“I prefer to sit so that I can see the exit, Captain,” Razor replied, peeling the foil off her tray. Banks glanced at the contents then shook her head.
“Let me guess, you were going to have that one for dinner?” Sterling said, nodding towards Razor’s tray.
“Well, I was, actually,” said Banks, huffily.
“Good choice, Commander,” said Razor, tucking in to the duck cassoulet on the even-rarer number four meal tray. “I was surprised to see this in storage, since they haven’t been available for about a year. I found it right at the bottom of the pile. It took some getting at, I can tell you.”
Sterling took a sip of coffee then looked over the top of his cup at Banks. “I wonder how it found its way there?” he mused, flashing his eyes at Banks, who just scowled back at him.
“Since you’re both here,” Razor went on, tossing a piece of duck to Jinx, who caught it in her jaws and wolfed it down in an instant, “an analysis I was running overnight just completed, and I think I’ve figured out how Admiral Griffin intends for us to get back into Fleet space again.”
Sterling sat up, awaiting Razor’s findings with interest. Ever since they’d disobeyed orders and surged through the aperture in G-sector into the Void, he had been wracking his brains trying to work out how to return again. He knew that the Sa’Nerran invasion force would have already reached G-sector, which Fleet had abandoned, and started constructing its own forward operating base. Although each sector contained many apertures, each leading to new star systems within that same sector, there was only a single aperture that connected one sector to another. Fleet had intentionally engineered it that way precisely for the situation they now found themselves in. For the Sa’Nerra to progress deeper into Fleet space, the alien armada would have to go through F-COP and the Fleet Gatekeeper Odin, along with at least half of the entire war fleet. It also meant that in order for the Invictus to reach F-sector, it would have to go through space that was now occupied by nearly a thousand Sa’Nerran warships. In short, there wasn’t a chance in hell of reaching Fleet space, unless another route could be found.
“I’m all ears, Lieutenant Razor,” said Sterling, turning his body to face his engineer. “What is the Admiral’s genius plan for getting us home?”
Razor scrunched up her nose then cocked her head to one side. “Well, technically, I haven’t discovered exactly how to get back into Fleet space,” the engineer said. Her statement deflated Sterling’s excitement like a pin popping a balloon. “What I have found is an encrypted file labelled, ‘Invictus – Return’,” Razor then went on.
Sterling perked up again. “And that’s what your program just cracked overnight?” he asked, hopefully.
Razor shook her head. “I’d need the computer resources of an entire COP to crack this file, a least in any reasonable amount of time,” she answered, instantly deflating Sterling’s mood again. “But there was a second file attached to it that was easy to break open. It simply said, ‘Shade is the key’.”
Sterling flopped back into his chair. “What the hell does that mean?” he said, sighing and rubbing the back of his neck.
“Does she mean Lieutenant Shade?” asked Keller, dropping the crust of his pizza slice onto his tray. Banks picked it up and began to feed chunks of it to Jinx.
“I did ask Lieutenant Shade if she had any idea what the message meant, but she said no,” Razor replied, meeting the ensign’s inquisitive eyes. “In fact, that one word is about as much as she’s said to me since I joined, outside of formal communications that is.”
“Don’t take it personally,” said Commander Banks, brushing the pizza crumbs off her hands. “Shade isn’t really what you’d call a people person”.
Razor shrugged. “I didn’t take it personally, Commander,” she replied, dryly. “Most of the time, I prefer to be alone too. Then at other times I don’t.”
Banks frowned back at the engineer, but Sterling understood exactly what she meant. Sometimes, the only place he ever wanted to be was on the bridge, surrounded by his crew in the thick of the action. Then sometimes he just wanted to be in quarters, by himself, shut off from the sights and sounds of the outside world.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Razor, I’ll pick up the matter with Lieutenant Shade directly,” Sterling said to his chief engineer.
“Aye, Captain,” Razor replied, with a respectful nod of her head.
An alert chime then rang out in the wardroom and the computer’s cheerful voice interrupted them.
“Captain, we are approaching Colony Middle Star,” the ship’s AI said, with its usual breezy charm. “Long-range sensors are detecting three vessels in orbit around the fourth planet. They appear to be adrift and derelict.”
“Thank you, computer, I’ll be on the bridge presently,” Sterling replied, directing his answer towards the ceiling, where he always imagined the invisible presence of the computer to be located. He met Banks’ eyes in order to gauge her reaction to the news.
“A possible salvage opportunity?” said Banks, with a slight eyebrow raise. “The fourth planet has been all but abandoned for years.”
“Maybe,” replied Sterling. “Or it could be a trap. We haven’t seen any sign of that mysterious gen-one destroyer since arriving in the Middle Star system.”
“If it is a trap then it’s probably better that we deal with this new Marshall sooner rather than later,” Banks said.
Sterling nodded and sighed before pushing his seat back and standing up. “Breakfast is over people,” he announced. “Return to your stations.”
Razor and Keller got up without protest and immediately headed out of the wardroom. Banks stood, but unlike the others she didn’t also immediately head for the door. Instead, she leant over the table and picked up the crust of Sterling’s grilled ham and cheese that he’d discarded onto his tray earlier.
“Waste not, want not,” Banks said. She then pushed the crust into her mouth and dusted off her hands.
Chapter 6
Justice versus the law
Captain Sterling peered out through the viewscreen at the three ships circling the fourth planet of Colony Middle Star. He glanced across to Commander Banks, tapping his finger on the side of his console while he waited for her analysis. The soft bleeps and chirps from her console as she worked were soothing, though he doubted the current serenity on the bridge would last for long.
“Two of the vessels are light freighters that were first registered decades ago,” said Banks, her eyes still focused down at her console. “They’re typical of the sort of trading vessel that operated in the outer colonies, before the Void was established.” Banks then glanced over to Sterling and raised an eyebrow. “Except that they’ve been extensively modified with thicker armor and Sa’Nerran plasma weapons.”
Sterling huffed a laugh. It was looking increasingly likely that the ships were merely playing possum, waiting for an unsuspecting ship to pass by and eye them up for salvage.
“What about the third ship?” Sterling asked, realizing that Banks hadn’t yet mentioned the final vessel in the trio of derelicts.
Banks flashed her eyes at Sterling – a surefire tell that his first officer had uncovered something of note. “That’s a generation one Fleet Destroyer,” she said, a corner of her lips curling into a smile.
“Well, that settles it then,” Sterling said, peering out at the ships on the viewscreen.
“The destroyer has also been extensively modified, so much so that’s its barely recognizable as a Fleet design anymore,” Banks went on, folding her powerful arms across her chest. “The ship’s registry has been wiped, but the energy signature matches the vessel we saw surge ahead of us into this system.”
Sterling stopped tapping the side of his console and straightened up. “Well, whoever it is has gone to an awful lot of trouble to lure us here,” he said, scowling at the old destroyer on the v
iewscreen. “We should probably find out why.”
“We could just as easily just fly on by,” said Banks, with a shrug. “Those ships could never catch us. The Invictus is too fast.”
Sterling shook his head. “No, that will only postpone the confrontation to another time,” he said, resolute in his decision. “I’d rather have it out with them now and be done with it.”
Banks nodded. “Aye, Captain. I’ll order Lieutenant Razor to make sure reserve power is allocated to our weapons and armor,” she replied, reaching for her neural interface. The door to the bridge then swooshed open and Razor walked inside.
“Speak of the devil,” said Sterling, hooking a thumb in the direction of their chief engineer.
“I’ve diverted all available power, including reserves, to the weapons and regenerative armor,” said Razor. She stepped over to the row of consoles at the rear of the bridge and began to transfer her engineering readouts and controls to them. “We’ll need to find a fuel source soon, though,” she added, working on the new array of consoles. “Otherwise we’ll be running on fumes pretty soon.”
“That’s strange, I was just about to ask you to do all the things you’ve already done,” said Banks, scowling back at Razor. “I know we can read each other’s minds, but typically we need a neural link to have formed first.”
The white-haired officer turned to face the command area, pressing her hands to the small of her back.
“My apologies if my actions were presumptuous, Commander,” Razor replied, though to Sterling’s ear she didn’t sound particularly apologetic.
“No apology necessary, Lieutenant, I appreciate you taking the initiative,” replied Banks. “Next time, just square it with the bridge first, understood?”
“Aye, sir,” Razor replied with a respectful nod. “I merely assumed that since we were about to enter into a combat situation it was the prudent course of action.”
“A warship operates on orders not assumptions,” Sterling chipped in, though secretly he appreciated Razor’s initiative too. Then he thought more about his chief-engineer’s justification and rested back on his console, peering at Razor with a quizzical eye. “What leads you to presume we’re about to enter a combat situation, Lieutenant?” He was genuinely curious to understand how Razor had come to this conclusion when she hadn’t been on the bridge during the tactical analysis.
Razor frowned then pointed to the three ships on the viewscreen. “Well, I monitored the ships from engineering and it’s just about the most obvious setup for an ambush that I’ve ever seen,” she said. The tone of her voice suggested she considered it so obvious that the question was unnecessary.
Sterling laughed. “Yes, I suppose it is,” he replied, glancing back at the supposedly derelict trio of ships. “Carry on Lieutenant.”
Sterling then turned to face his weapons officer. As usual, Shade had been quietly observing the crew interactions on the bridge, without getting involved.
“Target the weapons systems and engines of the destroyer only,” Sterling said, his tone becoming firmer as the time for combat drew near. “If this is another Marshall, I’d rather try to reason with him or her than destroy them. We’re going to be in the Void for some time and could do without making an enemy of every Marshall we run into.”
“Aye captain,” replied Shade, coolly. “What about the freighters?”
Sterling thought for a moment, weighing up the options, though on this occasion he felt a show of strength was merited. “If they power weapons and lock on, destroy them,” Sterling said, meeting his weapons officer’s intense, emotionless eyes. “These people need to learn not to cross us.”
“Aye Captain,” replied Shade, still with cool detachment, though also a touch more eagerness. “I have relayed an attack pattern to Ensign Keller, based on my assessment of their most-likely ambush strategy,” the weapons officer added. She did not touch her console, Sterling noticed. Clearly, like Shade, she had also already taken the action she was proposing.
“And what ambush strategy is that, exactly?” asked Sterling. His crew appeared to be in the mood for taking presumptive action. Some Captains would find this annoying, but Sterling appreciated that his crew had the experience and intelligence to apply foresight to their duties.
“The destroyer is closest and positioned between to the two freighters,” Shade replied, working at her console and sending her analysis to the viewscreen. “Once we close in, the freighters will power up and attempt to catch us in a crossfire. It’s crude, much like their vessels, but effective.”
Sterling nodded. “Then let’s make sure we spoil their plans, Lieutenant,” he replied, turning his attention to the viewscreen.
“Aye, Captain, I intend to,” Shade replied. Her tone was still level, but Sterling could now detect an undercurrent of eager anticipation in her voice. There was nothing Opal Shade enjoyed more than acts of violence.
“Then let’s spring the trap,” said Sterling, again resting forward on his console and allowing his fingers to slide into their familiar grooves. “Battle stations…”
The main lights on the bridge went out and his crew was bathed in the crimson hue of their low-level alert lighting. Sterling could feel the thrum of the Invictus’ engines and reactor building, as energy was produced and redirected to the offensive and defensive systems. It was like the ship itself had received a shot of adrenaline directly into its heart.
“Coming up on the destroyer now, Captain,” said Ensign Keller, who was primed and ready at the helm controls. “Combat maneuvers programmed in and standing by.”
Sterling nodded, but kept his eyes focused on the old gen-one destroyer in the center of the viewscreen. The Sa’Nerran weapons that had been retrofitted to its vintage hull were also older designs, like the ship itself, but at point blank range they could still do serious damage to the Invictus. He knew they had to be precise in their actions and use the Marauder’s superior capabilities to their full advantage. Banks console then chimed an alert and Sterling felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
“The freighters are powering up and locking weapons,” said Banks, working her console. “And fast too. These crew are certainly not rookies, that’s for sure.”
Sterling then saw lights flicker on across the hull of the destroyer. Its plasma weapons began to glow brightly, like the tips of cigars being smoked in a dark room.
“Execute the combat maneuver, Ensign,” said Sterling, gripping the side of his console tightly. His stomach had tightened into a knot, but he wasn’t nervous – like the rest of the crew, he was eager to get into action.
Ensign Keller worked the console with his usual proficiency and the Invictus powered away from the destroyer, rising above it like a bird of prey. The freighters both fired, but their plasma blasts crossed harmlessly in space. Sterling detected a succession of small impacts on the hull as their ambushers opened fire with mass-turrets. However, these archaic conventional weapons posed no immediate threat to a powerful ship such as the Invictus. It was like trying to break through a bank vault door by firing a pistol at it. All three enemy ships tried to re-orient themselves in order to bring their main guns to bear, but it was already too late.
“Firing…” Lieutenant Shade called out.
Two flashes of plasma lit up the viewscreen as the Invictus’ plasma turrets unloaded on the two freighters. A smile curled Sterling’s lips as he saw explosions ripple across the hulls of the enemy vessels. Shade’s precisely aimed shots had crippled their weapons systems and drilled into the command decks, opening the compartments to space. Sterling could already see the bodies of the freighter crews spiraling out into the Void. More explosions rippled across the freighters and both listed out of control, except this time they weren’t merely playing dead.
“The destroyer is adjusting course,” said Banks, peering down at her console. “It’s turning to run.”
Sterling glanced across to Shade, who had held fire, awaiting his confirmation. Another captain
of another ship might have let the destroyer go. However, Sterling didn’t care that the enemy vessel was fleeing. The captain of the ship had made his bed and now he’d have to lie in it.
“Open fire, Lieutenant,” Sterling said with conviction.
The main plasma rail guns of the Invictus fired, but at the last moment the destroyer tried to evade. The blasts cut through the enemy vessel’s port side engines, destroying them completely and sending the ship into an uncontrolled spin. More flashes lit up the screen as the Invictus’ plasma turrets picked off the destroyer’s weapons, leaving it crippled and defenseless.
“We’re receiving an incoming transmission,” said Banks, cocking an eyebrow at Sterling.
“I thought we might,” replied Sterling, pushing himself away from his console and straightening his tunic in readiness to take the call. “Put them through.”
Banks tapped her console and moments later the image of a man in a leather frock coat appeared on the viewscreen. He was older than Sterling, perhaps in his sixties, he reasoned, though the weather-beaten look to his skin could have aged the man beyond his years. Wispy grey hair protruded below the line of the man’s black, pork-pie hat, creating a sharp contrasting line with the stiff brim of the old-fashioned-looking headwear.
“I see that your reputation is not unwarranted, Captain Sterling,” the man said. However, the words were uttered with contempt, rather than admiration.
“Care to explain who the hell you are, and why you attacked my ship?” Sterling replied, getting straight the point. He wasn’t interested in a prolonged conversation; he had more important matters to attend to.
“My name is Ed Masterson,” the man replied, maintaining a remarkable level of composure, considering his ship was out of control and his escorts had been obliterated. “But most people know me as Marshall Masterson, senior.”
Sterling sighed and nodded. The reason for the ambush was now clear. Revenge.