Wolfhound

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Wolfhound Page 4

by Kindal Debenham


  In response, the Wolfhound’s own guns opened up on the corvette orbiting below. Bright specks showing the course of the shells sped toward the blunt craft, and explosions swept through the nearby space again. Unfortunately for the Oduran craft, a pair of shells hit home. The damaged portion of corvette appeared on a screen on the left, explosions tearing across the ship’s aft.

  For a moment, it seemed the barrage had accomplished little, but then pieces of the main sail rig for the craft fell away. The blue light of the corvette’s sails dimmed, flickered, and went out. Jacob cheered as the corvette’s acceleration slowed, then reversed as gravity started to take effect. Escape pods started to burst away from the enemy ship as Oduran personnel abandoned their vessel to the inevitable crash on the planet’s surface below.

  Another alarm cut through the celebration of his victory, however. He glanced down to find more flickers of light leaving the Oduran cruiser. He watched the contacts shoot up and away from the enemy ship, wondering why they weren’t coming towards him. Then realization hit, and he felt a sudden chill. Missiles. Unlike railgun shells, missiles would be able to hunt him down, and even one warhead could easily break the Wolfhound’s back if it got close enough. Jacob settled into the seat, trying to keep track of how many projectiles were now headed his way.

  Even as he tracked the course of the warheads, his mind raced with ideas to try to counteract them. Outrunning them won’t work. I have to get them to fly into something, or maybe run out of energy. For a moment, he considered trying to direct them back towards the cruiser, but it didn’t seem likely an Oduran warship would allow a trick like that to work. They’d just detonate them before they got too close. Jacob shook his head in frustration, and then an idea bloomed.

  Shifting the angle of the sails, he steered the Wolfhound on a new course, coming around to close with the cruiser. Coming at it from the side, he realized the ship would have the better firing position, but he was more than willing to sacrifice that for a chance at forcing them to detonate their missiles early.

  The missiles, having shot out from the cruiser on a weaving course before turning towards him, now required a much sharper dive in order to hit him. Jacob’s smile grew as the missiles continually had to adjust their course, the angle growing steeper and steeper as he shot back toward the cruiser once more.

  To its credit, the Oduran ship recognized the danger fairly quickly. Still struggling to accelerate, the craft turned to present its aft to the Wolfhound and tried to open up the distance. Jacob simply poured on more energy to the sail rigs and closed the distance even more.

  The missiles shot past the destroyer, having failed to turn at a sharp enough angle to catch his ship. They started to loop around, but Jacob shook his head. There’s no way they can catch me before I catch up to their ship. They’ll have to break off. There was another exchange of railgun fire, with the Wolfhound suffering another pair of hits and the cruiser taking a couple of blows of its own. With surprise, Jacob realized that, not counting the missile launchers, his destroyer actually outgunned the enemy ship. Perfect.

  As the range between the two ships closed, Jacob watched the missiles streak in as well. They actually got close enough to make him wonder if the Odurans were going to be willing to take the damage if he was destroyed, but his question answered itself a short moment later when all six projectiles exploded far short of both him and the cruiser.

  What followed was a mostly dull chase. He kept the Wolfhound stationed off the enemy ship’s aft, using the structure of the cruiser to shield him from their guns. Meanwhile, the destroyer’s railguns pounded away at the Oduran vessel, blasting chunks of it out into space and ripping through decks. With the missiles no longer a threat at such close range, Jacob could continue the fight with impunity, and both he and his adversary knew it.

  Finally, after a few more volleys, a signal told him the cruiser was surrendering. He watched as the DE sail rigs powered down and the firing stopped, feeling a sense of pride wash over him. I did it! I wonder how well the others came through that? Jacob basked in that sense of satisfaction, passing the Oduran craft and continuing at a leisurely pace.

  Puzzlement soon intruded on his sense of well-being, however. Both enemy craft were down, but the simulation had not ended. Jacob waited a little longer before understanding dawned. I still have to return to the checkpoint. Sighing at his own mistake, Jacob turned the destroyer back towards the checkpoint and accelerated. Within a short while, the Wolfhound had reached the station, and he slowed the ship to a stop.

  The moment he did so, the projector snapped off. A number came up to replace it and Jacob raised his eyebrows in surprise. I’ve been in there for nearly an hour and a half? The others came out with far less time. Shrugging, Jacob tried to shake off a feeling of unease. While they might have finished faster, Jacob was sure none of them had been able to beat the Oduran opponents as well, not like he had. That had to count for something.

  He undid the restraints still holding him to his chair as the access hatch slid open. The light outside the simulator seemed overly bright and annoying to him, and he squinted. Jacob managed a friendly nod to the technician, who was eyeing him uncertainly. Isaac was watching him as well, and Jacob saw that Laurie had joined him. She had a look of concern on her face, but Jacob simply gave her a bright smile and waved at her. Still uneasy, she waved back. No need to worry guys, I beat them. That post is mine.

  The smile continued as they wandered over. Laurie spoke first, concern still betraying itself in her voice. “So, how did it go?”

  “Great! I think I have a pretty good shot at making it.” Jacob blinked as confusion reigned on their faces.

  “You were in there for a while, Jacob.” Isaac’s voice carried a question in it, but Jacob waved it off.

  “I did well, though. Probably better than most at least. Don’t worry guys, you’ll see.” He glanced down at his reader, and he was suddenly filled with alarm. “Oh crap. I’m about to miss my next sim session. I’ve got to go. See you at dinner!” He tried to ignore the worried looks that Laurie and Isaac exchanged and jogged off across the training room. His success made the journey seem lighter, and he smiled as he went. It had been an excellent day.

  Two days later, the assignments were handed out to each ensign via their reader. Each of them received a message from Commander Rodgers including their berth assignment aboard the ship, their assigned section and duty station, a short description of their responsibilities and a schedule that led up to their departure the next day.

  Jacob had come to Isaac’s quarters to open his message. Laurie had come as well, wanting to share the moment with her friends, and as they started, he felt suddenly and inexplicably nervous. There’s no way anyone else could have done better. Still, what if they did? He waited, his finger hovering over the button, as Isaac let out a victorious whoop.

  “Gunnery! I can’t believe it!” The ensign jumped to his feet and pumped his fist in the air, his face alive with excitement.

  Laurie gave him a wry smile. “What did you expect after hitting so many targets? You earned it.” She glanced down at her own reader, hesitation plain on her face. “I can’t open it. What if I got stuck in Engineering? I hate working on power lines and coolant tubes.”

  “Oh stop it, Laurie. You’ll like what you get.” Jacob tried to filter his own uncertainty from his voice, but he wasn’t sure how well he succeeded.

  Isaac, still flush from his own victory, slapped her on the shoulder roughly. “Yeah, it’s obvious that Rodgers has an eye for talent. Gunnery! And I think it’s the long range battery!” The joy in Isaac’s crowing brought a smile to Laurie’s face, but the grin vanished as she glanced down again. Suddenly, she held the reader out to Jacob.

  “Damn it, I can’t. Here, Jacob, you open it and tell me.” Jacob sighed dramatically, then accepted the reader. Laurie turned away, her hands clenching and unclenching, as he tapped through the messages until he found Rodgers’. He hit the button to bring it
up and started to read.

  “Ensign Laurie Simms, Countermeasures section, Point Defense.”

  Laurie let out a squeak of joy and grabbed the reader from him. She read over it again and burst out laughing. “Point Defense! I got into Point Defense!” Hugging the reader to her chest, she twirled in a circle and nearly clocked Isaac with an elbow. Then she stood, reading through the rest of the message with an awed expression.

  Jacob turned his attention back to his own reader, his finger once again hovering over the button. Come on, what could be so bad? Bracing himself, he hit the button, and the message appeared on his screen.

  “Ensign Jacob Hull.” He stopped, his eyes not believing what they were seeing. Disappointment crashed in on him, hollowing him out inside. When he looked up at his friends and found their excitement dimming. I tried so hard. Jacob looked down again, his voice starting to tremble a bit with anger. “Engineering section, Power Regulation.”

  Chapter Three

  As Jacob waited outside the commander’s door, he went over what he would say again in his mind. It was hard to focus on words; after the initial disappointment, he had been angrier than he had ever been since he had joined the Academy. It hadn’t gotten better when he heard Schroder, of all people, had been assigned to the bridge crew as the Helm ensign.

  Back held stiff, he fought to keep the rage from his face. It was a struggle to keep his expression neutral, to hide the snarling bitterness welling up inside him. The only sign he let show was his hands clenched into fists hard enough whiten his knuckles, his fingertips digging into the palms of his hands. As the minutes stretched on, he felt his anger and frustration begin to cool, tempered by the need to wait before releasing it.

  Finally, when the door slid open, Jacob shot to his feet, legs quivering with the desire to kick something or chase someone down, to do something. Then he stopped, surprised by the appearance of someone he didn’t know in the doorway.

  The man leaving Commander Rodger’s office wore a Marine officer’s uniform. It was primarily red, with black sharpening the lines of the jacket sleeves and pants. The crossed guns of the Marines had an eagle in front of them, marking the man as a lieutenant.

  The man didn’t fit the profile of a typical Marine. In spite of a few scars that marked his face, he seemed oily somehow, as if his entire frame had been dipped in fresh grease. His blond hair slicked back didn’t help the impression. His black eyes raked over Jacob, measuring him as if he was wondering how hard the ensign would be to dispose of. When they came to Jacob’s face, their eyes met, and Jacob shivered at the cold in those dark eyes. Then the Marine lieutenant gave him a half grin, stepped out of the entryway, and looked back inside.

  “Sorry to have bothered you commander. I hope we work well together once the Wolfhound is underway.”

  “As do I, Lieutenant Morris.” Commander Rodgers was seated at his desk, his expression mild. As Morris turned to go, the commander’s face sharpened into something hostile and suspicious, boring into the Marine’s back. When the commander noticed Jacob watching, however, the commander relaxed and smiled. “Ensign Hull, please come in.”

  The office was smaller than Jacob had expected; it was barely bigger than the temporary bunk he’d been assigned during his stay on the station. Only a single picture hung on the wall to the left of people who were most likely the commander’s family. They were at a restaurant, a locally owned one based on the customized murals and nonstandard wooden furnishings. Jacob could see the commander with his arm around a woman about the same age as him, probably his wife. Both were smiling, at ease with the familiar chaos around them. At least six young men and women were gathered around them, laughing and roughhousing. Another pair, a young man and a woman both about Jacob’s age, sat slightly apart watching the chaos, a new baby cradled in the young woman’s arms.

  The other furnishings of the office were spartan, with the dull green walls empty. A couple of functional chairs were set up in front of the desk, and a hologram projection unit was wedged into the back right hand corner where it could be accessed from the commander's chair. A short, squat cabinet with a complicated looking lock occupied the left hand corner, with a small lamp ready to provide extra light in addition to the fluorescent unit on the ceiling.

  The anger and frustration that had carried Jacob here fled, the heat stolen by the chill he had felt at Morris’ glance. He came in and slid the door closed, trying to recover his sense of indignation. When he turned back to Commander Rodgers, he stiffened his back again and brought his chin up. “Sir, I respectfully request my assignment be changed.”

  “Oh?” Rodgers’ eyebrows went up, his expression otherwise carefully blank. Jacob ignored the uncertainty that appeared at the edge of his indignation and plowed onward.

  “There’s no way that Ensign Schroder completed the simulator run in better form than I did. He was only in for about half an hour. The engagement should have lasted far longer…” Jacob trailed off as amusement broke across Rodgers’ face, and the commander held up a hand.

  “I see. Please, take a seat Ensign.” The commander waved to a nearby chair, and Jacob considered refusing for a minute. The small smile on Rodgers’ face showed he wasn’t paying Jacob much attention, or at the very least that he was not taking the matter seriously enough. Still, refusing to sit didn’t seem likely to help his case at all. Jacob stalked over and fell into the chair.

  “Thank you.” Commander Rodgers leaned back slightly. “You were saying?”

  “I did better than anyone else could have in that simulation. I took out both enemy ships, avoided severe damage to my own, and completed the objectives. The only reason I can see that you would assign another ensign to the post instead of me is because I’m a frontier spacer. You let your prejudice blind you to what I can do, and went with a well-connected jackass instead.” Jacob paused, breathing a bit heavily with the effort of bringing the tirade to a halt. He noticed Commander Rodgers’ eyes had gone cold, but he forced his way onward anyway.

  “If you made that mistake, I’m here to ask you to reverse it. I can do the job. I can help us succeed in our missions. I know I’m better, I know the Navy needs good officers. I know it, and you know it.”

  Rodgers broke in, his voice low. “So for that reason I should change your assignment? Take Ensign Schroder and stick him in Engineering instead?”

  The hardness in Rodgers’ voice didn’t really surprise Jacob. He’d heard it in the voices of many of his instructors at the Academy, in confrontation after confrontation. “Yes, sir. Otherwise I am willing to leave the Navy and continue my efforts elsewhere.”

  Rodgers leaned forward, his gaze intent. “And if your reasons are inaccurate, Ensign?”

  Jacob stopped, his mouth half open. For a moment he felt like the ground had disappeared beneath his feet, and his mind raced to catch up to the commander’s question. “Then I suppose I would accept my assignment. But—”

  Commander Rodgers held up one hand, and Jacob fell silent, fuming. “It’s time to listen now, Ensign.” He lowered the hand and studied Jacob’s face for a moment before continuing. “The reason I chose Ensign Schroder for the post of Helmsman was due to his time score for the simulation.”

  “But sir—”

  “Ensign Hull.” The calm, quiet words cut off Jacob as harshly as if they had been shouted. “I welcome open conversations with my junior officers, but I do ask for proper respect. If you interrupt me again, you will not need to leave the Navy; I will throw you out.” Jacob swallowed his protests and sat back, his anger collapsing in on itself.

  Commander Rodgers continued, his tone still calm. “The reason I agreed to use the completion time as a measure was simple. A helmsman’s duty is to follow orders, even in extenuating circumstances. The ambush was included in the scenario in order to test the reactions of the candidate ensigns, to see whether they would panic or break down under unexpected pressure. Some ensigns did. Others tried unsuccessfully to fight back and were defeated. Stil
l others were caught as they were pursued, also resulting in their defeat.”

  Rodgers smiled. “Your reaction to the situation was indeed impressive. It took a lot of quick thinking and courage to make the maneuvers you did. However, there was one thing your actions lacked. Obedience.”

  The commander paused, as if letting the word sink in for a moment. Jacob met his eyes for as long as he could before letting them drop and study the floor. Rodgers continued. “While you did, in fact, succeed, you ignored the primary orders you had been given. You were to orbit the planet, then arrive at the specific point. You were told it was a timed mission, and the implication should have been clear that your performance would be judged on it. When the time came for those orders to be tested, though, you abandoned them. You did win the battle, and against impressive odds, but in comparison to Ensign Schroder you allowed yourself to be distracted.”

  “The post of Helmsman is not meant to be the same as command of the ship. If you’re going to ignore orders in the heat of battle, you aren’t going to be allowed to pilot the ship.” Rodgers gave a small smile to soften the words. “Ironically enough, your actions would have been excellent for a commander, but as an ensign and a junior officer, you were lacking. Do you understand, Ensign Hull?”

  Jacob nodded slowly, remorse roiling in the pit of his stomach. “Yes sir. I apologize sir.”

  Commander Rodgers continued to study Jacob for a long moment, then shook his head and gave a weary sigh. “Apology accepted, ensign.” He leaned forward and picked up a hand-held reader. “Are there any other questions, ensign?”

  “No sir.”

 

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