by Chris Hechtl
Once he finished his scan of the instruments and bridge, his mind returned to the overall picture once more. Fourth Fleet's Tau mission had an extra element he found distasteful but necessary. The current plan would take decades before the fleet arrived in the sector to take physical control and investing in so many planets was cost prohibitive in manpower and machinery. Therefore, they were relying on other means to secure the sector and reduce its unwanted population or eliminate it entirely.
He shook his head. That part of the plan was thankfully not up to him to execute; he just needed to get the materials and the orders to the Admiral and not step on his toes. Getting the water dwellers with that going on would be tricky though.
He still missed Gorgon; with her gone, he was one ship down, which made his search that much harder. He could understand Captain Yanakov's problem; there had been similar concern with Cytheria since she too was a venerable Cutlass class destroyer. After the structural faults and cracking had been reported by Gorgon's chief engineer, a close inspection of Cytheria had been in order. Fortunately, for her she didn't turn up the same problems as Gorgon however, so she was able to continue on while her division mate had been forced to drop out of hyper for a brief period.
He wasn't certain which way Yanakov would jump. Would he return to Airea 3 and Rho sector? It was possible. He'd like to think the man had put his ship in order and had stayed on mission, but since he hadn't shown up in the Trajin cluster, it remained doubtful. And since they didn't know exactly where his ship had dropped out, there was no telling where Gorgon was in real space if she were trapped.
That was something every spacer dreaded, being trapped in a ship that couldn't get back into hyper again. He bet that Gorgon's chief would patch the structure enough to get her back to Airea 3. He shook his head.
Whatever happened he had to deal with it. Stay on mission, he reminded himself.
“Sir, a hyper jump has been detected at the jump point,” a rating reported.
“Which … you mean the one we're almost at?” the captain demanded.
“Yes, sir.”
“No IFF yet, sir,” the comm section PO said. “Sensors can't get an ID until the energy pulse fades. Based on the size though, CIC is pegging it as about a hundred thousand tons, give or take 20 percent.”
“Which makes it too small for a standard freighter. It could be tramp or yacht,” the captain mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
“It could be one of ours, sir—a member of the Gather Fleet,” Commander Siri Misaki reminded him, fulfilling her job as his executive officer.
The captain nodded once, but he didn't believe in easy coincidences. “True. Comm, raise them. Send them our IFF,” the captain ordered. “CIC, I want better details on this ship,” the captain said. He turned to the XO. “I think we better button up, just in case.”
“Aye aye, sir. Setting battle stations now,” the XO replied with a curt nod.
The captain nodded as the energy readings on the hyper capacitors stopped climbing and then began to fall. If they were wrong, he'd be chagrined but relieved. But better that than to get his ass and his ships shot up.
]][#]]]{OO}===}==>
The North Hampton class light cruiser Puglia had been assigned with her division mate Belfast to make contact with several star systems in Tau as advanced scouts before the official Tau mission was kicked off. With a bit of horse trading of parts and the hard work of Puglia's engineering compliment to partially restore a ship, they had sent back the tramp freighter from the Trajin cluster to Airea 3 with a request to join the Federation. Their files had also been sent in encrypted chips.
Captain Loggins shook his head as he contemplated the mission. The jump to Tau-X3301 had been a waste of time; the space colony's population had refused to trade with them. To be fair, they were hanging on the ragged edge and were low on fuel themselves. Their orders were to return to the Trajin cluster when their fuel reserves got below 40 percent. They were at 39 percent, and they still had five jumps before they got back to the cluster. By the time they returned to the cluster, they'd be on fumes, Captain Loggins mused as his crew secured the ship from jump. The navigator was going to have to plot an economic fuel burn to the next jump point he thought moodily just as something changed on his bridge.
The nebula they were in, the destroyed star system that had once been Tau-T1832, bothered everyone since it was so cold and dark. It was best to get across quickly he thought just as CIC painted moving karats on the plot.
“Sir, we've got multiple ships approaching the jump point. They appear to be slowing to jump. CIC is still working off of passives; the energy pulse hasn't fully dissipated,” a sensor rating reported.
“Multiple …,” the captain murmured as he checked the plot. There were four ships there, all on a heading for the jump point, which meant on a direct course for his ship. “Comm, any IFF yet?”
“Too soon to tell, sir, the energy pulse is still interfering with everything,” the Veraxin rating reported.
“Active sensors and communications will be nearly useless for another four minutes, sir,” the sensor rating added.
“I don't like this. It could be the Tau mission, but … it feels too soon. Helm, back us off. Engineering, how soon can you spin up our hyperdrive again?” the captain demanded.
“We bled off a lot of the excess energy that couldn't be recovered easily. It will take at least thirty minutes, sir,” Ensign Apulia, his ship's dumb A.I. replied.
“They'll be in extreme weapons range in ten minutes, sir,” Ensign V'll'n the Veraxin JTO warned.
“Battle stations,” the captain said flatly. Klaxons and red lights went off throughout the ship. “Button her up. Helm, keep us nose on to them as long as you can. Sensors, we need more information. IFF?”
“Working on it,” the rating said. “Tentative ID, at least three of the ship silhouettes do not match any merchant ships.”
“Frack, warships. What about the other ship. Could it be Prometheus?”
“No, definitely not, Skipper,” the rating replied.
“Give me something. I don't want to be in a shooting incident with our own people if I can help it.”
“Sir, Comm here, we're being pinged! It's Horathian!” the comm rating said urgently as the Naga TACO slithered in to relieve the JTO. The Veraxin stepped aside and then took a duty station from a rating in her department.
The captain looked over to the Naga. “CIC sensors are calling the two largest warships as heavy cruisers. The port one is an Admiral Hipper class. The starboard one is tentatively ID'd as the same class. The slightly smaller tango has been positively ID’d as a Cutlass, sir,” the Naga said as she checked the readings. “We are in serious trouble here.”
“Engineering, we're going to need that hyperdrive sooner. Get our shields up, people; we're playing defense. Helm, pick up speed.”
“We can't get much more speed facing them, sir,” the rating said.
]][#]]]{OO}===}==>
“We're not getting an IFF from the other ship and she's still backing off. CIC reports it is a North Hampton,” the tactical officer reported.
“I don't believe …,” the captain frowned. “CIC, run the class of ship past our known war book for the Tau Gather Fleet.”
“No ships have come up that match the class, sir,” the CIC rating reported a moment later.
“Vampire! I say again Vampire!” the sensor rating said. “Multiple missiles incoming!”
“Is she insane?” the XO demanded.
“Apparently. And apparently not one of ours. Tactical, I want options,” Captain Lafayette snarled.
“Target is Fancy,” the CIC rating reported. “Ten missiles inbound. Tango has raised shields and is continuing to back off. We're getting sensor hits outside the shields.”
“Cytheria and Fancy on defense. That leaves Seydlitz to carry the ball,” the captain ordered as Doctor Wilhelm and Doctor Goethe came storming onto the bridge. He turned to look at them briefly out o
f the corner of his eye, but the majority of his focus was on the unexpected engagement.
“What is going on?” Doctor Wilhelm demanded, eyes wide as he stared at the plot.
“Our unexpected visitor turned hostile. Now be quiet or get off my bridge,” the captain ordered coldly as he turned to his tactical department. He noted Lieutenant Troykov had his head down so he turned to the plot. Weapons fire from the three ships spat out. He didn't like the stream from Cytheria; the destroyer didn't have the right angle and apparently hadn't had all her defenses online. Her captain was also conserving the counter missiles in his inventory.
“Missiles … they are good,” Lieutenant Troykov the tactical officer muttered.
“Not something I like to hear, guns,” the captain muttered.
“Sorry, Skipper, but it’s true,” the tactical officer said, clearly sweating. The only sign of the occasional interception was a blink; otherwise, the man was totally focused on the incoming missiles. “Damn it, they are deploying decoys!”
“Frack,” the captain muttered.
“Two missiles are inside the outer engagement zone. Too close for counter missiles … they are changing course!” Lieutenant Troykov said, suddenly surprised and apparently caught off guard. “It's a fake out! Frack, Cytheria, you are the real target!”
Captain Lafayette and the personnel on the bridge watched as the two missiles spat decoys and weaved, then when they got to the outer edge of the PDL their warheads shed their shell and then an eight pack of submunitions were kicked out. Suddenly the destroyer's point-defense lasers had sixteen targets instead of the eight plus the decoys they'd expected. The ship tried to turn to give her port broadside lasers a better angle to fire as well.
Four of the missiles were cut down in the outer engagement zone. Fancy caught two more but then the rest were obstructed by the destroyer's bulk. The remaining ten got through everything the ships could fire to detonate. Four were slightly ahead of the others so they went off and tore at the ship's shields.
Cytheria's bow shields were weak after the series of long jumps. Something failed in a pair of overstressed emitters and the shield buckled and fell, collapsing to allow the tumbling six warheads through. The ship tried to turn but she was too slow on the helm and that was the worst thing she could do at that moment. Two of the missiles hit her bow and detonated, a third was hit by a phaser and exploded, but the last three hammered into her spine and lightly armored boat bay. The nuclear charges easily breached the thin metal walls as if they were tissue paper and tore at the interior of the ship's boat bay, destroying her compliment of shuttles. Fuel and explosive materials in the boat bay were added to the mix.
Captain Lafayette and the other people on the bridge only saw the fireball in the guts of the destroyer before something let go and her spine broke. The ship broke in half, each part twisting away.
“Son of a fracking …,” Lieutenant Troykov whispered.
Captain Lafayette licked his lips, then turned to the plot. His momentary inattention when he had watched Cytheria's demise had taken his eyes off the enemy ship and Seydlitz's engagement. Seydlitz had fired only six missiles at the enemy ship initially but had then fired ten more. The enemy ship's point defense was lethally accurate, cutting down the incoming fire as it spat ten more missiles to come at them.
Two of Seydlitz's missiles detonated in the face of the enemy fire, momentarily blinding the light cruiser. Two follow-up missiles survived passing through the rapidly expanding cloud of plasma to hit the ship's shields. The shields wavered under the impact of nuclear fire, but held.
“Returning fire,” Lieutenant Troykov said, ignoring the order to remain on the defense. Ten missiles fired back at the enemy ship before the ship's tactical department shifted back on defense. Counter missiles and point defense lasers interdicted the ten incoming missiles. Decoys were deployed but the missiles ignored them.
“They've got our number. I'm shifting to defense plan Baker,” the lieutenant ordered.
Captain Layafette watched the incoming spread of twenty missiles head to the retreating enemy ship. The ten from Seydlitz were in the lead. They were cut down by the enemy's fiendishly effective defenses, but his ship's ten got through the plasma and debris. Eight survived to come out the other side. Two were destroyed by point-defense lasers, but then the remaining six detonated. The ship rolled back and forth. Her shields went down.
“Got her!” the sensor rating cheered as Seydlitz fired another ten missiles.
“Watch the missiles; those things are expensive. We only have so many,” Doctor Goethe protested.
“So are ships. We've lost one. Something tells me losing a ship is far more expensive,” Commander Misaki growled darkly, pointing to the image of the tumbling debris off their port side.
Doctor Goethe scowled at her but then Doctor Wilhelm elbowed her and then pointed to the plot and the debris that had once been a destroyer. The female doctor grunted and then became quiet.
]][#]]]{OO}===}==>
Captain Loggins noted things weren't going well. When his shields went down, he took the chance to spin his ship and put shield emitters that weren't as damaged in-between his ship and the incoming fire, then had his ship's sublight drive kicked on at 110 percent. The ship suddenly sprinted away, throwing off the aim of the incoming missiles. Two detonated near enough to damage Puglia further but not enough to destroy her. He needed to get deeper into the nebula of the destroyed system. Their wake would give the enemy somewhere to look but the fine debris from the destroyed star system would obscure the Horathian sensors.
His ship just had to survive to get that far.
]][#]]]{OO}===}==>
Captain Layafette grimaced when he noted the enemy ship was getting away. He turned to the image of Cytheria. “Order 8116 to pick up the life pods. Fancy and Seydlitz away the shuttles and gigs to pick up survivors,” he ordered. “We'll need DCC boarding parties to get on that ship to search for survivors. Once they've gotten everyone out, we'll pick her clean and then scuttle her.
“You aren't going after them?” Doctor Goethe demanded just as the image of the enemy ship faded. The captain shook his head. “Why not?”
“She's just gone into stealth. We only have so much fuel; I don't want to waste it trying to track that ship down.”
“If you split up …,” Doctor Goethe suggested, clearly inexperienced.
Commander Misaki eyed her coldly. “You are that naive? If we split up, we'd allow them to hit us individually. We'd invite defeat in detail. No.” He could tell shock over the brief savage engagement was beginning to fade and be replaced with anger and a thirst for revenge. He understood it, he wanted it too, but he had a responsibility, an overriding one.
“I thought it was Tau pirates. Now …,” Doctor Wilhelm said slowly before he shook himself.
“It wasn't the Tau Gather Fleet. We checked the war book,” Commander Misaki said with a shake of her head.
“You think it was the Federation? Here? In this area?” Doctor Goethe demanded. The XO shrugged.
“We've been picking up ion trails; this ship might be one of them, sir,” the sensor rating reminded them, looking up from his station.
“But it came in before us or after? Clearly it is faster … How is that possible?” Doctor Goethe demanded.
“More importantly, how did a ship like that become fully functional?” Doctor Wilhelm asked. “And why did they come out here? I thought they were bottled up in Pyrax?”
“Tell them that,” the captain said with a shake of his head. The room quieted as he tugged on the hem of his jacket for a moment. “I don't have the answers. But we need to find out.” Captain Layafette said grimly, turning away.
“I've got one more question,” Doctor Goethe said, partially raising her right hand. The captain turned to her. “Are there any more?” she asked.
The captain froze and then nodded slowly. “Good question,” he said.
]][#]]]{OO}===}==>
Captain Log
gins grimaced as he read the latest damage report. Puglia had managed to successfully limp off to hide and lick wounds, but that was the only good news. The ship didn't have an industrial replicator large enough to make the replacement parts they needed. Making them piecemeal with the food replicator and small class 1 replicator wouldn't give them all the emitter parts they needed.
The good news was that the enemy had chosen not to follow them. They could remain in stealth but the shield damage meant the hyperdrive was ‘iffy.’ His Neochimp chief engineer was not confident in a jump. “It looks like we're stuck here,” Lieutenant Groff finished quietly. A fresh pall of fear and apprehension seemed to settle on the officers in the compartment.
“Great, trapped. Just what I didn't want to hear,” Captain Loggins growled as he watched the long-range plot show the enemy ships scuttle the remains of the destroyer, then jump out of the star system.
Act I
Chapter 1
Prometheus's arrival in Pyrax triggered a promotion. Commander Shelby Logan was promoted to captain junior grade when her ship returned to Pyrax for rest and refit. She had downloaded the news that she was on the list when they'd passed through Gaston, but the deliberations and the final decision had been held while her ship had been in hyperspace to Pyrax.
One of the first things Shelby did once they docked was march herself over to Admiral Subert's office. Commander Garretaj slipped her into the admiral's schedule for a brief ceremony and link-up so Admiral Subert and Admiral Irons could download her new implant keys.
Admiral Irons had only a moment to congratulate her through the ansible before he had to depart. She managed to stammer thanks before he signed off.
With the implant keys came new downloaded orders. She and her crew were going to be given long overdue liberty, and there would be some promotions and shuffling around of her personnel. But once that was finished and they reported back to duty, they were scheduled for a brief working-up exercise to blow the rust off before a new adventure.