Wolfhound

by Kindal Debenham

  “Leave that to me, sir.” Ensign Iriel’s voice matched the rakish grin she was wearing. “I can get us in close enough to dock at least. If Engineering can give me a bit more armor and a breeching charge, we’ll be set.” She gave Sergeant Chiun an encouraging nod, one that the Marine returned with a face like it was set in stone.

  Ensign Gi, who had recovered enough to attend the meeting, glanced at Turley before responding. “We could probably manage a bit of extra armor and the boarding cutter at least. I’m not sure how much more survivable it will make it, but it might be enough.”

  Jacob nodded. “All right, it might give us a chance. How many Marines would you take with you, Sergeant?”

  “As many as we can fit into the skiff. The more guns we get over there, the better our chances will be of taking the ship.” Chiun hesitated again, her eyes flickering over to Sergeant Ashford. “If I could, I would take all of them.”

  Jacob tensed, waiting for the indignant outburst from Ashford, and was surprised when nothing came. He glanced over to find him nodding at his fellow sergeant. Ashford caught the look on his face and shrugged. “The second in command should stay with the ship. If she wants ‘em she can have all of ‘em.” He grunted sourly and looked over the display again. “It’s not like they’re gonna be trying to board us, anyway. Shoot us to pieces maybe, but boarding no.”

  A wry smile wormed its way onto Jacob’s face, and he turned back to Sergeant Chiun. “It looks like you have your Marines.” He looked out over the audience. “Are there any other ideas to add?”

  “It’s too bad we can’t find some way to deal with them piecemeal. On their own, none of these pirates have much of a chance against us, but together, they can take us apart.” Ensign Taylor’s mouth worked as he studied the screen intently. “Too bad we don’t have a ship they can come and raid.”

  Jacob turned and considered the projection, an idea taking shape in the back of his head. “Maybe we do.” The attention of the crew shifted suddenly back onto him, and he looked at Ensign Al-shira. “Would you be able to retrieve some of the identification signals the Wolfhound recorded back at Graveston Station?”

  The Communications ensign nodded slowly. “They should all be stored in the system still. The memory didn’t vanish with the navigation files.” Her uncertain tone brought a mischievous smile to Jacob’ face.

  “So would it have recorded some of the luxury ships we passed? The ones with the rich passengers and valuable cargo?” She nodded again. “Okay, what if we reprogrammed a signal drone to broadcast that identification signal and a wide spectrum distress call. Then we set it to riftjump behind a cluster of asteroids, close enough for our friends to pick up, but far enough away that it takes them a while to get there…”

  “The greedy bastards smell profit and go looking for a quick raid, ending up with nothing but a signal drone for their troubles.” Ashford’s voice carried a smug kind of satisfaction, and Jacob nodded encouragingly as he motioned to the screen.

  “But only some of them can go, right? Somebody has to watch the station while the rest pillage. The Ravager and the carriers are the slowest, which means it is the Hand or the Ire who comes out to play.” The group started nodding, and Jacob felt excitement flood through him. “Even better, whoever gets to it is probably going to get more of the plunder, so they might both come out, racing to get to the prize first.”

  “And while they’re gone, we riftjump in, blast half of the fleet to pieces, and wait for them to come back to take their licks.” Taylor was smiling now, his expression mirroring Jacob’ excitement. “That would be perfect.”

  “One problem, though.” Laurie’s voice was reluctant, as if she regretted having to speak up. “What if the corvettes don’t come back? What if they just send out a couple of signal drones to the Bloodthorne and run for it?” Her question brought a sudden silence to the room, and Jacob turned his focus back to the display, thinking. Another idea occurred to him, and he turned back to Ensign Navaja.

  “Navaja, is it possible to store the calculations for a riftjump from one specific spot to another in our computer? Could we calculate a jump and then come back to do it later?”

  The ensign hesitated, as if trying to find an explanation that Jacob would understand. Then, slowly as always, he answered. “It is possible, but the Capistan would still have to be charged to make the jump. Further, the calculations needed might be altered by shifts in the gravity or dark energy currents locally, so minor corrections would have to be made.” He shook his head. “It could be possible to do it, it just might not be worth it.”

  Jacob leaned a bit closer. “If we calculate our jump while the corvettes are moving, though, it should be fairly up to date, right?” The ensign nodded, though he seemed to be visibly restraining himself from a more complicated answer. Jacob continued. “So why don’t we have the drone riftjump a short distance away. The corvettes come out, and we ambush them from our hiding spot, hopefully crippling or killing them. Maybe the Marines can board that one rather than the frigate.” Sergeant Chiun stirred, but when Jacob glanced at her she had become impassive again.

  “Then we return to our spot, make the riftjump to close with the other three, and hit them while they are still scrambling. If we do it quickly enough, we can still catch the torpedo boats while they launch. Even if they do launch, though, they will be outbound, and won’t expect us to pop up in the middle of the big ships. By the time they get back, their carriers and the Ravage will be scrap.” Jacob looked over the crew, his head still buzzing with the details of the plan. “Is there anything I missed?”

  The room was quiet as they all studied the images floating between them. Jacob waited, watching for more hands to raise. When none did, he nodded. “Then that’s the plan we’ll be using. Let’s get the ship ready for combat. We’ll move as soon as everything is prepared. You’re dismissed.”

  With a surprisingly subdued amount of muttering, the officers dispersed. Jacob soon found himself alone, with only the hologram of the future battlefield and Sergeant Ashford as company. He stared at the asteroid fields, the station, and slowly moving pirates, watching as the whole group of them moved around the star at the center of Reefhome. One more battle. I can do this. He turned to find Ashford still watching him and raised an eyebrow.

  “You know, I think I’m getting used to this.” Ashford’s voice was remarkably even, and Jacob felt a flicker of surprise as he watched the Marine sergeant walk a small half-circle around the hologram. Ashford kept his eyes on the images, only speaking again once he passed by Jacob on the way out of the room. “I just hope you don’t get us killed just when I’m getting comfortable, Ensign.”

  Jacob turned to watch the man go, waiting until he turned the corner before following with a sigh. Turley had wanted him to make a few visits to take a look at some of the damage to the ship, if only just to encourage the crew to get things fixed faster. So much to do, so little time. He walked out of the briefing room, pausing only to shut down the screens and projector, leaving the room dark behind him. There would be time enough to worry later.

  Chapter Sixteen

  A few hours later, Jacob was back on the bridge. He watched as the asteroids shifted outside, stirred only slightly by the Wolfhound’s presence and by the leftover motion this particular fragment of planet had gained when the two unfortunate worlds had collided.

  Along the sides of the bridge, petty officers at the auxiliary consoles stood ready to take control if the primary operators were hit. Ashford was there among them, eyes sharp and face hard as he watched Jacob take the chair.

  Jacob drew in a quick breath and let it out slowly. A light came up on his communications board, but he waited until Al-shira gave him a nod before he started.

  “This is Ensign Jacob Hull to all crew. We are about to engage the enemy again. This time, we are not the only ones at stake here. This time, we will be acting to rescue a station full of civilians from slavery.” He paused here. The crew would already kn
ow the basic details of the mission. Most of them had just been frantically scrambling about to prepare for it; even the Support staff were now armed and waiting at the airlocks to repel boarders. Still, they were probably hoping for something more than a mere announcement.

  “I know that many of you are probably wondering why we are assaulting a target that has not been sanctioned by the Navy. Many of you might wonder what possible purpose this attack could possibly serve.”

  Jacob paused, organizing his thoughts for a moment before he continued. “The navigation data we need is likely located in one of the ships out there. If it isn’t, we can always take it from Reefhome Station itself. They have what we need to get home, so we’ll fight for that.”

  “That’s not the only reason, though. Even if we did have every line of data we need to get back to the fleet, it would be our responsibility to fight here. We have no choice; the enemy has left us none.” He paused again, thinking of Commander Rodgers’ death, of his mother’s tears over lost relatives, of Dianton’s threats. When he raised his head and spoke again, his words were choked by those memories, made rough with emotion.

  “The pirates we face today have enslaved an entire station worth of innocent traders. They would enslave us as well, or murder us if we resisted, as each of us has seen in the past few days. Ignoring them won’t solve anything, negotiation will only take us so far. They believe that it is their right to plunder us, that for some long-past scuffles over doctrine or inheritance, we are their natural prey. They believe we are subject to their rule and their whims. We are not. The people of Reefhome Station are not. As members of the Celostian Navy, it is our duty, our responsibility, and our charge to see that whatever happens, the pirates know where we stand, even if that means we take a stand in an abandoned, news-forsaken corner of the universe.”

  “Attend your duties well, shoot straight, and fight hard. I have every confidence in you, and today is the day to prove me right.” He nodded to himself, smiling a bit. Then he braced himself and reached for the controls. “All crew to stations. Bridge out.”

  Al-shira nodded absently, and the light that told Jacob he was speaking to the whole ship winked out. He looked at her. She was tense, ready to press the button that would start the whole engagement. Jacob let out a slow breath. Here goes everything. Help me make you proud, father. “Launch the drone.”

  She pressed the button, and the ship rocked slightly as the message drone shot away from the destroyer’s ventral side. It glowed as a faint beacon of light on Jacob’s projection, and he watched it for a few moments, following the course it took to a small spot a short distance away from the ship. Once it reached the assigned zone, it brought itself to a halt, the miniature Capistan inside its small hull whirring to life and charging it with the immeasurable energies required for a riftjump.

  Ashford let out a breath in a long sigh. “Here we go.”

  Then the drone was gone, vanishing in a burst of energy invisible to normal sight, but obvious in the roiling currents of dark energy showing on the navigation projector. At the same moment, a relatively short distance away, the drone reappeared, its riftjump complete. The reemergence of the drone was heralded by a much larger burst of dark energy current, one that would likely have set off any sensors set to detect such disturbances. With such a short jump, the drone must be letting off a lot more energy than we did coming in. If the pirates are watching…

  Jacob switched the view on his console, widening the scope of the projection to get an idea of what the enemy was doing. Sure enough, the pirates were already turning toward the burst of energy. He smiled as the two corvettes came out of their usual courses, ignoring the fleet of smaller ships running toward the Station. The signal the drone sent identifying the drone as the Golden Chain arrived a few moments later, and there was a sudden flurry of activity among the pirates. The corvettes both flared their DE sails to put on a sudden burst of speed.

  A moment later, however, both the Rand’s Ire and the Cruel Hand slowed, their DE sail rigs flickering off. The ships’ brake sails brought them to a complete halt a short while later, and for a time the pirate fleet was completely motionless.

  Jacob turned sharply to Al-shira. “Are we getting any change in signals? Can we pick up anything of what they are saying?”

  She shook her head, clearly puzzled. “All I can say is that most of the messages seem to be between the corvettes and the frigate. It’s all encoded in a different way than before, though. We can’t break the encryption that quickly.” She paused. “A few signals just went out from the Ravager to one of the carriers, and the traffic seems to be dying down a bit. Strange.”

  Jacob turned his focus back to the screen, studying the distant pirate ships. Both the Ire and the Hand were returning to their previous positions, though both moved slowly. The Ravager had moved to interpose its greater bulk between the two corvettes and the distress call emanating from the signal drone. The rad masts on all five of the ships had been retracted now, as if the group of them were ready to be under fire any second. His eyes narrowed as he studied the scene. Ravager’s captain is in charge, but he called them off from a run they wanted to make. He is making sure they don’t disobey and do it anyway. Will they just ignore the distress call? His frown deepened as the ships shifted positions.

  Suddenly, Singh called out from where he sat. “Launch from carrier Sigma.”

  Jacob’s attention snapped over to the Sensor’s officer. “What? Are you sure?”

  Singh nodded, his eyes locked onto his console. “Yes, sir. The people in the skiff are using my algorithms and techniques. They aren’t as good as me, but even rereading the data they are sending over, it looks like…” He shook his head. “Second launch from carrier Sigma.”

  Jacob watched as the first boarding skiff pulled away from the carrier and came to a holding position. The second soon joined it as Singh announced another launch, and then another. Soon enough, all six boats had launched from the carrier, leaving it looking like an empty shell as they formed up and boosted out toward the sensor drone. “Damn.”

  He sat back in his chair as he watched the small ships flit toward their position. The Ravager decided that it wasn’t worth losing sight of the freighters to go after a crippled yacht, but one carrier full of skiffs is more than enough to down Reefhome Station. He sends the skiffs to raid the yacht, saving time and risking less. Jacob shook his head. Worst response he could have made from our point of view, but we don’t have much choice. We have to see this one through. Jacob's mind worked furiously as he waited, watching the ships move closer.

  “Sir? The skiff is requesting orders.” Al-shira’s voice brought him out of his brooding contemplation, and he looked over to find her tensing up again. He gave her a small grin.

  “Tell them to get back to the hangar a bit earlier than they would have for the corvettes. Those boats move faster, and we’re going to need to jump sooner than we thought.” He paused, his attention now moving to the ships left near the Station.

  “Tell Sergeant Chiun and Ensign Iriel their target is now the Cruel Hand, not the Ravager. We can’t take the risk that the frigate has a full crew.” He shifted his gaze to the still full carrier hovering near the Station. “Ensign Navaja should start his calculations now. Tell him to go ahead and start a low burn on the Capistan too. We aren’t going to stick around to swat a half-dozen boarding skiffs. Our exit position should be right above carrier Gamma.”

  Al-shira nodded, her fingers dancing over her console. On the navigation screen, the images of the approaching pirates faded to gray, becoming projections of their positions rather than up-to-date scans as the skiff moved back behind the cover of the asteroid. The little craft was soon snug inside the Wolfhound’s hanger again. Jacob could picture the forty Marines led by Sergeant Chiun flooding into the small skiff the moment the doors opened.

  Then it was time to wait. The tension on the bridge was palpable as the projected locations of the enemy skiffs drew closer and closer t
o the drone’s position and their own hiding place. Just a little closer. We don’t want them to be able to double back and get a boarding party to the station or to us. The stress began to build build and his his heart pounded, as the little craft continued their headlong rush.

  When the enemy only a few moments from passing the Wolfhound’s asteroid, Jacob knew it was time. They were well within the accurate sensor range of the boarding skiffs; had the pirates been looking the Wolfhound likely would have been discovered. There was no point in waiting any longer. He nodded to Al-shira. “Tell Ensign Navaja to jump us in. Give him ship-wide signal and tell him to count down for us.”

  She nodded and spoke quickly into the receiver. Jacob tried to calm himself, breathing deeply through his nose and exhaling slowly through his mouth. Come on, we’ve already done this. I can make it through one more. He tried to look calm when Navaja’s voice echoed through the speakers.

  “Riftjump preparations complete. Transition in five, four, three, two, one.”

  Space suddenly shifted, and the projector’s image whirled, focusing in on a new area. Asteroids were exchanged for ships, and one in particular loomed nearby. The bulk of Carrier Gamma was only a few kilometers away, directly ahead of the Wolfhound’s bow. As Jacob watched, the segmented craft lit up with energy signals as their DE sail rigs flickered to life. He could imagine alarms ringing throughout the ship, and frantic boat crews on their way to the smaller craft located along the skeletal frame of the carrier. Further away, the Hand, the Ire, and the Ravager also came to life as their crews tried to react to the destroyer appearing in their midst.

  We let them fire, we’re dead. “Guns, open fire! Iriel, launch!”

  The response was satisfyingly immediate. The twelve railguns in the Wolfhound’s gun decks unloaded in a vicious double volley, sending their projectiles screaming in at the carrier. Nearly all of the shots were on target. Two thirds of those made it successfully through the blazing screen of point-defense fire. Heavy shells exploded across the length of the craft, ripping holes in its fragile web of a structure. Debris and atmosphere sprayed into space. Some of Isaac’s long range shells also hit, slicing their way through the armor of the ship near the bridge and DE sails. The shells detonated after punching their way partway through the ship. What was left of carrier Gamma writhed in agony. Within seconds, the carrier and the torpedo boats it carried were a floating wash of space debris. The fires that raged through it quickly went out as air ran thin.