The Turret: Starclan Foundation
Page 10
“Well?” Jock was a little nervous. He’d had a lot of training, but no real combat experience. This could be the first time something fired at him.
“Let the computer do her work. We’ll know in a moment. Sally is a little old, but she is a solid computer. As far as I know, anyway.”
“Computations displayed and ready for your inspection, Sugar!” Jock looked at Dennis with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s not what I thought it was going to be when I installed it. I’m not good at customizing software, I guess, and I never thought I’d be using the computer this much.” Dennis shrugged his shoulders. “Here, it’s possible. This is the flight path that will take us past the ADS, and picking up the alien ship pieces will leave us with this trajectory. At full burn for two days, we can be on a high velocity lunar intercept they’d have a tough time matching. I’ll leave the details to the real sailor.”
“This old tug can outrun that freighter?”
“JG, you know that space isn’t like sailing on a lake. Everything out here is thrust and mass. Those alien ship parts are big, but mass about ten percent of an average ore barge. Thistle has a lot of thrust, so we can out accelerate and out decelerate almost anything when we’re that light.”
“You said that freighter would be armed. How do you know that?”
“Well, if I was sending a ship out to steal an artifact from the Navy, I’d be armed. And, they won’t leave your squirrely friend around to talk about them, either. My guess would be a couple of nuke-armed missiles; easy to install, cheap, untraceable, and easy to dump.”
“Then, we’ve got to take out that ship. Any ideas?”
“Whoa, JG! Thistle is a tough tug, but it ain’t no battleship! My plan is to fly by, snatch the prizes, and skedaddle out of Dodge. I didn’t plan on combat.”
“We need to take out that ship for two reasons; one, it’s the last operating turret, and it sits right on the Bugs preferred path. And two, we need Bird alive, so he can talk about who they are. Do you have any weapons?”
“Well, just this, and two complete Mark IV armored recon suits.” Trap hit some controls, and a panel next to the helm console opened up. A handle pushed up through the opening. Jock stared at the red trigger with the clear plastic flip-up guard.
“Impressive trigger. What exactly is that hooked to?”
“A two hundred meter railgun, triple-barreled, 12-inch bore on each. It telescopes out in front of the tug when you activate the trigger. Pre-loaded, I compressed the bullets myself.”
“You what?”
“I just took the Thistle’s three gravity beams and pointed them at a hunk of space rock, high iron content. Then, I hit the beams on it in reverse. Each of those bullets masses out at forty tons. The three reactors can feed juice directly to the gun, so the bullets go real fast. So fast Sally can’t track ‘em. I figure they’re moving at about a quarter light-speed at the muzzle.”
Jock just stared, open-mouthed, at the retired gunnery sergeant. “Gunny, do you know you outgun half the fleet?”
“You can never have too much firepower, JG.”
“You have to show me how you did all that. But not now. How do you aim it?”
“Point and shoot. Sally aims.” A circle and cross-hairs appeared on the video screen. “The bullets will go right straight through those cross-hairs. Every time.”
“Gunny, you’re right, Thistle isn’t a battleship. But she is a monitor. I’m appropriating her for the duration. She’ll be known as “Gunny One”. You’re drafted. Rank of Ensign. Now, Ensign Trap, what else can this ship do?”
“Aw, shit.”
***
SS Python
Mars-Ort transit
Standard Earth Date December 21 3446
“Twenty minutes until download is complete, Captain.”
“Are we in position to fire, Mr. Billingsley?”
“We will be soon, Captain.”
“Captain, there is another ship heading this way, right at the docking port, at very high velocity! It’s that tug, Captain.”
“Target a missile on it, Billingsley. Fire when ready.”
“Its speed is too high for a lock, sir, but it is decelerating. Estimate target lock in fifteen minutes.”
“Fire when locked. Hold fire on the ADS; we may need our second missile for the tug.”
“Will do sir.”
***
Crouse Irving Memorial Hospital
Syracuse
Standard Earth Date December 21 3446
“Calm down, Miss Marx. I’m not here to tell you of anyone’s death. Take some deep breaths, try to relax. I’m just here to, well, explain a few things.”
Sandy took a deep breath, then another. It was hard to keep everything in, even after six years. Especially after six years.
“Captain,” Sandy became more composed as she began to speak, “My last two friends on Earth have just been ran off the road by a truck that no one knows a thing about. A baby is dropped in my lap; a baby that was theirs, that I knew nothing about! And, the last time I saw a Marine in his dress blues, they drove my boyfriend away from me. So, yeah, I am just a LITTLE upset!”
“About the boy, Ma’am. His last name is not Wade. He wasn’t the child of your friends. Not the two in the accident, anyway.”
“Not their child…what are you talking about Captain?”
“The boy’s name is Jack Nial MacAlister.”
The room started spinning around Sandy again. A fuzzy light grew to envelope her.
“Sandy? W-would you, um, do you want, maybe…” The voice cracked as the words stuttered out.
“Jock MacAlister, what is wrong with you? Spit it out!”
“Doyouwanngotothefalldancewithme?”
“Ma’am? Stay with me, Ma’am."
The captain’s baritone voice brought Sandy back to reality in time to see the world spun into total darkness.
***
Gunny One
Bridge
Standard Earth Date December 21 3446
Jock lay on the floor, hooking up the cable that stretched out of the bridge, through the shuttle bay, and into the stealth probe. He soldered the last connection and said, “There! We should have access to the probe’s computer now. That will increase our computing capacity at least ten times.”
“Sally, you still there?”
“Only for you, shugga!” came the sultry reply.
“Just checkin’, darlin’”
“I feel sooo much better! You sure do know how to give a girl just what she needs, stud!”
“Okay. At ease!”
“Whatever you want, I’ll give ya, baby!”
“Gunny, couldn’t you have changed her…personality?”
“Other than sounding like a floozy, I sort of like her.”
“Deceleration will finish in two minutes. Handsome.”
“Thanks, Sally. JG, are you ready?”
“All set, Gunny. My bet is that ship will think we’re going to stop to pick up the alien ship. If they’re trying to target missiles, they’ll have a tough time with us moving this fast. You pick up the pieces, Gunny, and I’ll fly us past, while Sally targets the other ship. I’m firing all three bullets, just in case her aim is off.”
“With that nav computer from your probe, you ought to be able skip a rock on that lake near your home from here. Let’s do this.”
“Deceleration terminated, Stud! Ship rotation commencing.”
***
SS Python
Mars-Ort transit
Standard Earth Date December 21 3446
“Captain, the tug’s stopped decelerating! It’s still coming too fast for a good lock.”
“He may be trying to snatch one of the alien ship sections. Fire missile one!”
“Missile one away, sir!”
***
Gunny One
Bridge
Standard Earth Date December 21 3446
“Missile warning, dear. Missile warning, dear. Missile
warning, dear.”
“They’ve fired at us, Ensign. One missile. Ensign?”
“Captain?”
“If this ship gets blown up, you’re going down with it, Gunny!”
“Hah-ha, roger that, JG.”
***
Chrysler Building
55th Floor
New York City
Standard Earth Date December 21 3446
“Gentlemen, Ladies! Order, please!” The tall balding man tried to shout with dignity over the confused din. A dozen board members in ten different conversations tended to raise the volume until everyone was shouting. Finally dispensing with all pretense of elegance, he slammed his fist loudly onto the table.
Every mouth closed, every eye turned to the tall man.
“Welcome. As you know, the unfortunate events of a few days ago have left us with a leadership, um, void. Again. I want to personally thank you all for coming here to confirm a new Principal. Please be seated.”
***
Base Commander’s Office
Lunar Station
Tsiolkovskiy Crater
Standard Earth Date December 21 3446
Jericho Bucktooth stood rigidly at attention, his arm in a perfect salute as Admiral Alimonte entered the room.
“At ease, Jeri.” The Admiral said as he offered his hand to the Lieutenant Commander.
“Good to see you Sir.”
“Good to see you as well.” The Admiral closed the door, walked back to Jeri’s desk and sat in a guest chair. “Computer, suspend recording, classification command, alpha-four-nine.”
“All recording suspended.”
“Admiral, none of her tests indicated…”
“I know that, Jeri. Relax, I’m not here to rip you a new garbage port. She was far too bright for our tests to show anything she didn’t want us to see. We have other issues.
“Two weeks ago, ADS 1437 made contact with an extra-solar vessel. MacAlister managed to capture it, but it’s cut in half and none of the crew survived. Preliminary analysis indicates this was a preinvasion scout vessel of advanced technology. MacAlister managed to capture it using some innovative technology of his own, developed with Ensign Malone’s help.
“I’ve dispatched four ships to ADS 1437, three cutters and a fleet tug. There is a private ship that will be already there by now. We don’t know who sent it. The only other ship in the area is an old independent tug operated by a retired gunnery sergeant.
“To make things worse, MacAlister’s return probe suffered a launch ‘malfunction’; he’s adrift. Somewhere. I’ve held the decommissioning team here. Bird doesn’t respond.”
“Wow. I don’t know what to say.”
***
Gunny One
Bridge
Standard Earth Date December 21 3446
Jock MacAlister and Dennis Trap had squeezed into the tug’s bridge wearing the Mark IV armored recon suits. Each had his helmet off to conserve power and air.
The Space Tug turned Monitor had swung around, the railgun telescoped out like an insect’s stinger, just a little off the line of the ship’s course. Jock had used the stealth probe’s nav computer to confirm his calculations of just the right course and angle to pump a railgun bullet into the unknown ship. Now, it just came down to hitting the target.
“What’s the status of that missile?” Jock asked.
“It’s on a closer track than I thought it would be. It makes me nervous.”
“It doesn’t have to hit us to screw us up, Gunny. Unless you’ve armor-plated this thing…”
“Well, not quite enough for a nuke. A near detonation would pop us off course and screw up our electronics. So…” Gunny Trap hit six buttons in sequence on the panel in front of him, “…There, that should take care of it.” Gunny calmly sat back in satisfaction.
“What did you do?”
“I threw sand in their face. I’ve got about two dozen “ash cans” positioned around the ship. Each is about two hundred kilos of asteroid dust, high metallic content, sitting on magnetically compressed springs. All I do is release them, and the sand flies out at high speed, messing up the guidance and then scouring the missile into harmless dust. At least, I think that’s what’ll happen.”
“Damn, Gunny. They need you in weapons R & D!”
“Won’t work. Too big a budget, I can’t innovate. When it’s my ass and my cash on the line, I seem to get ideas. Now it’s time to button up.”
“Helmets on!” Jock confirmed.
‘Sally, link into our recon suits.” Dennis fastened his helmet.
“Anything you say, big boy!”
Jock rolled his eyes.
“Missile destroyed, sweetie!” Sally announced.
Jock grinned and gave a thumbs-up sign to Gunny.
“Darling, twenty seconds to primary weapons fire. Another missile is inbound, stud!”
“It’s going to fly right through the bullet’s path, JG!”
“Well, Gunny, did you want to live forever?”
“Yeah, well, that was the plan. Or die tryin’. Check your suit one more time. Then concentrate on keeping us on course. I’ll get the cargo.”
“Main weapon fired.” Sally announced.
Both men looked up at the video screen, staring at the freighter as they counted down in their heads.
“Impact in three. Two. One. Now, Sugar!”
Jock gasped at the sight on the screen. The freighter simply vanished behind a star-bright flash of light. When the light faded, there was nothing there.
“Missile status, Sally?”
“Missile is tracking an iron rich asteroid well off our course, love. Its fuel is exhausted. It is not a threat, killer.”
“Got the big section,” Dennis declared, “got the engines! Okay, Skipper, take us home!”
“Return trip insertion burn in three. Two. One. Burning.” The two men were slammed back into their seats from the acceleration. After a few minutes, the engines shut down, and the men could move again.
“Shall we open up?”
“Aye-aye, Sir!” Dennis took his helmet off and looked at Jock. When Jock had his headgear off, Dennis said, “Good job, JG. Nice bit of strategy there.”
“Gunny, I don’t like to lose.”
“It’s been an honor working with you, JG. But, just remember, once we get back, I’m retired again.”
Jock grinned. “Yeah, um, we’ll talk about that.”
***
Admiral’s Quarters
Lunar Station
Tsiolkovskiy Crater
Standard Earth Date December 24 3446
BANG! BANG! BANG! The knocking on his door startled the Admiral.
“Come!”
“I have something you need to see, Admiral!” Jericho Bucktooth gasped as he stuck his head into the doorway of the Admiral’s quarters. The Lieutenant Commander had run from the Comm center, about a quarter mile away.
“Well, come in then and show me, man!”
“Here, Sir!” Jeri tossed his datatab to the Admiral, “Lieutenant MacAlister! He’s ten days out! He’s commandeered that tug, drafted the retired marine, snagged the alien ship, and vaporized the privateer. And, Bird is still alive on the ADS, awaiting pick up!”
Admiral Alimonte stared at the Lieutenant Commander for several seconds before breaking into a huge grin. “Merry Christmas to you, too, Jeri. Sorry I didn’t get you anything!”
***
West Lake Road
Skaneateles, NY
Standard Earth Date January 29 3447
Jock was still trying to figure out what to say as he walked up the steps of his home. He almost turned around four times. The smell of the crisp winter breeze from behind the house brought back a lot of memories, pushing any chance of eloquence out of his head. Just as he reached the door, he stopped and looked around. Has it been that long? Since mom died, four, no, five years ago? Why haven’t I been home?
Jock turned back to reach for the door handle, but the door was al
ready open. His eyes locked on the spot the door handle should have been, his hand, frozen, inches from touching a hand…the high school ring, his ring, on the finger there.
“Sandy!” The word rolled off his lips like a tear rolling down his cheek.
His eyes shot up to her face. Her stern look still surprised him, even though he had expected worse. They looked at each other for several long, long seconds.
Sandy opened her mouth, but no words came out. She closed it. Then Jock felt her hand in his. Then she smiled, and there was light in his universe again.
***
Chrysler Building
55th Floor
New York City
Standard Earth Date January 29, 3447
The young man sat quietly behind a massive desk, alone in a room that screamed power from every piece of furniture, every inch of flooring, every light fixture, window, comm system, monitor-every cubic inch of air. And it was his now. So much power…
He thought briefly how he had come to sit here; it was no straight line of ascension, though many would see it that way. He had to struggle to even be considered. But, he did have information on every board member. And information was power, as father had liked to tell me. Before my bitch of a sister blew him up.
First order of business was old business. Finish what his father had begun. Finish MacAlister, the bastard who killed his sisters. Next, get that alien ship, patent whatever technology he can, and expand his power.
Yes. Plan it out, let the experts fill in the details. Sheldon Malone clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back in his massive chair. He liked his new position very much.