Virago One: A Hard Science Fiction Technothriller (Ace of Space Book 2)

by John Triptych

  Ganz floated outside of the corridor where a gun battle had taken place just an hour before. The two bullets that had been fired by Lawson were still wedged along the bulkhead at the end of the passageway. A part of him wished that the imposter would still be alive so that he could torture her. Perhaps she might have even known what happened to Kate, and would confess before she met her end. Even if she’s dead, maybe I’ll cut her body up a little, he thought as he used the passcode to unseal the hatch before pushing the lever back and pulling it open.

  The moment he opened the hatch, wisps of grey smoke floated out into the corridor. The storeroom in front of him was practically opaque from the mist inside of it. “What in the hell?”

  Darian Arante thrust herself out through the hatch. A sharpened length of pipe was in her left hand, and she made a stab at him. Ganz had quickly recovered from his initial shock and tried to block the attack, but the sharpened end of the tubing managed to embed itself on his upper right arm, penetrating the skinsuit fabric and tearing into his bicep muscles.

  Ganz screamed in pain as they both tumbled backwards and crashed into the side of the corridor. He tried to place Darian in a chokehold, but his injured arm let him down and she was able to wriggle free from his grasp. The NASA special agent was trained to fight in zero-gravity, and she quickly stomped on his chest and pushed off, throwing him against the bulkhead with her counterforce. In addition to his arm, Ganz’s shoulders were bruised from the beating as he saw Darian making her way out of the corridor. He instinctively tried to reach for the pistol in his hip before he realized that she had taken it from him hours ago.

  Herbert had just opened a hatch in an adjoining corridor when he heard Ganz cry out. Darian floated into the nearby corridor just as he turned his head to figure out what was going on. Their eyes met for a short second, and then she launched herself towards him. Shrieking in fright, Herbert got behind the hatch and pulled it closed, just as Darian got to within an arm’s length of him.

  Inside the battlesphere, Lawson instantly woke up from his short nap when he heard Ganz screaming over the com-link. “What the hell is going on?”

  Ruthven grimaced as he cycled through the camera feeds in his console. “That intruder of ours is still alive. Ganz is wounded again by the corridor near the storeroom.”

  Lawson started undoing the restraints in his chair. “Let me finish her off once and for all, Colonel.”

  The tactical screen on both their consoles instantly activated, showing five red dots on a virtual, 3D space map. Ruthven held his hand up, gesturing at him to hold. “Wait, we’ve got contacts.”

  Lawson turned his attention back to the console. CAIN began to calculate the trajectories and speed of the incoming targets. He let out a deep breath. It’s the USAF Orion fleet. They’re coming right for us.

  Ruthven bit his lip. He activated a menu link on his console and entered in a command. The battlesphere’s inner airlock immediately closed behind them, sealing off the bridge. He preselected his com-link channels so that the three outside of the battlesphere could hear him. “Now hear this, we got Air Force Orion battlecruisers on an intercept course. I’ve sealed off the battlesphere until we finish this.”

  Herbert’s nervous voice was almost shouting. “What? You can’t lock us out here! There’s an intruder on the loose!”

  “Ganz, you deal with her,” Ruthven said. “The rest of you can stay where you are. I’ve sealed off all the major compartments.”

  “I am in missile bay,” Vlad answered. “I am going to try to get many casaba howitzers working.”

  “Good,” Ruthven said. “Make sure you tether yourself in case I have to launch them. And don’t forget to put on a life support pack.”

  “Da, understood.”

  “I don’t have a gun,” Ganz said. “Open the battlesphere and give me one of your pistols so I can finally kill her.”

  “Use your initiative,” Ruthven said tersely. “There’s plenty of ways to kill her.”

  Ganz cursed before signing off.

  Ruthven turned off the com-links before he reactivated the fusion drive. “Vince, what’s the status on our defensive systems?”

  Lawson stared blankly at the monitor screen on his console.

  Ruthven turned to look at him. “Vince, are you alright?”

  Lawson sighed. “We did our part. We wiped the PLA from space. I … I don’t think I could kill any more of our brothers, Colonel.”

  “Vince, listen to me,” Ruthven said. “I’ll do everything in my power not to attack them, but if they’re out to intercept us, then we gotta fight back.”

  Lawson looked away. For a long minute all they heard were the chimes and beeps coming from the Virago’s AI.

  “Vince,” Ruthven said softly. “We’ve been through so much. Just one more time, okay? You’ve trusted me before, so trust me now.”

  After a short while, the executive officer made eye contact with his superior. “I’m sorry, Colonel. I zoned out. I made a promise to be with you all the way, and I’m keeping it. Okay, what do we do now?”

  Ruthven smiled. As long as he still had Lawson, it was all good. “Just follow my lead.”

  Chapter 26

  The Air Force’s official designation for them was Space Task Force One, a fleet of five military spacecraft ready to be deployed in case of a potential conflict in cislunar space. Unofficially, the crew referred to themselves as Starfleet Orion. Constant training and being confined to a single space station in Lagrange-4 had steadily molded them into a team that prided itself on being the most elite unit in the entire US military. They considered themselves as part of a select club, and any newbie that had been assigned to the task force had to undergo months of zero-gravity hazing rituals before they were accepted into the “Starfleet.”

  When the USAF began to construct and deploy combat spacecraft, they started naming their rockets along the lines of boats being built by the Navy. Naturally, the seagoing branch of the US military vehemently protested, arguing that the names assigned to their ocean faring vessels were unique, and would cause confusion in the event of a joint operation between the two services, should the Air Force appropriate the same names for their spacecraft. In the end, the Department of Defense ruled that the USAF were not allowed to use ship names of Navy vessels currently in service, but could choose to name their spacecraft with currently unassigned names.

  When the construction of the Orion battlecruisers started, the Air Force bided its time, and waited until a number of Navy ships were decommissioned before taking the name of the Enterprise as their flagship. The USN fumed, for they were planning to build a new aircraft carrier and reappropriate the name, but it was too late since the Department of Defense had already approved it. Over the next few years, The Air Force vehemently refused to assign names to their Orion battlecruisers until the last minute, forcing the Navy to speed up the construction process of their naval vessels before decommissioning their older ships in order to keep the names. In time, a mutual agreement of sorts was ultimately negotiated between the two branches of the military, and the process became less confrontational.

  Colonel Scott Dennon settled back into his command chair right after the last detonation of the Orion drive. Even though he had trained and even conducted live fire tests for the past five years with this very same system, it still rattled him every time the nuclear charge would go off. Of course, he only kept this feeling to himself, for if the other Orion spacecraft commanders ever found out, he would never hear the end of it. Over time, he used a plastic mouthpiece so he wouldn’t bite his tongue off every time the tremendous clang would occur.

  He took a look at the virtual space map displayed on his console. “Distance to target?”

  Major Matthew Straker, executive officer and pilot of the Enterprise, answered him. “We’re closing in to about two hundred thousand klicks. Virago has started to accelerate.”

  “Jesus H Christ, look at the speed of that thing,” the spacecraft’s we
apons officer said. “It’s unreal.”

  “Pipe down, I want official talk only- no comments,” Dennon said. “Is the task force still in formation?”

  “Affirmative,” Straker said. “Ranger and Drummond at our starboard side, Austin and Marauder at portside.”

  His private com-link activated. The voice belonged to Colonel Paul Reno, spacecraft commander of the Ranger. “Scotty, I’m getting a malfunction on one of my railgun turrets. I’ve sent the chief out to take a look, but I might not have all the guns to back you up.”

  “It’s okay,” Dennon said. “Just contribute with whatever you’ve got, Paul.”

  “Do you think it’s okay if we try to talk to him again?”

  Dennon frowned. “Why? The Virago’s ignored the last five messages we’ve sent to them.”

  “I mean you should talk to him- privately,” Reno said. “You know Marlon, he’s a former Starfleet member. He’s one of us.”

  “He ain’t one of us anymore,” Dennon said tersely. “Not after what he did.”

  “Could you try anyway? Maybe he might listen. You used to be his CO and I used to be his XO when he commanded the Ranger.”

  “Okay,” Dennon said, switching optical communication channels until he could get a link with the target.

  Hidden in one of the access tunnels of the Virago, Darian Arante felt the sudden change. It was as if she was momentarily suspended in microgravity before everything suddenly started to shift, indicating that the spacecraft had begun to accelerate again. It’s got to be the Air Force, she thought. They’re finally going after us. She had managed to snag a life support pack in one of the emergency storage bins along one of the corridors before making her way into a maintenance passage so she could survive in the vacuum of space. What she needed to do was to avoid her pursuers and attempt to sabotage the Virago to give an edge to the Air Force.

  The com-link indicator in the battlesphere started beeping again. Colonel Ruthven set it on general reception so that his subordinate Major Vince Lawson could hear it too. The voice on the other end was quite familiar to him. “This is Colonel Scott Dennon, commander of the Enterprise. Answer me, Marlon. I want to talk to you. Can you hear me, over?”

  “I’m reading you loud and clear, Scotty,” Ruthven said. “How are you?”

  There was an audible sigh on the other line. “Not good, Marlon. But then again, I think you already know that. You know why we’re talking, right?”

  “I do,” Ruthven said. “Look, I can honestly tell you that I don’t want a fight with you guys. I’m an American and proud of it. You know my story. I took out the Chinese because of what they did to my son Taylor.”

  “I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that, Marlon,” Dennon said tersely. “We had an international treaty with them and you broke it. Thanks to your actions we’re now in a de-facto state of war with China back on Earth. A lot of people are going to die because of what you did.”

  “So let’s team up and take them on, then,” Ruthven said. “They got no military assets in space anymore. With Starfleet Orion and my spacecraft, we can bomb them from orbit back to the Stone Age, and there ain’t anything they could do about it. We can finish this once and for all.”

  There was a slight pause on the other line before Dennon answered him. “You’ve gone insane, Marlon! We’re supposed to be at peace- Starfleet Orion was never supposed to be deployed unless we had no choice!”

  “I’m sorry for having to push the issue, Scotty,” Ruthven said. “But I made up my mind a long time ago.”

  Dennon tried a different tactic. “You remember Roger Starr? Commander of the Freeman? His family was just informed of his death a little over an hour ago. You killed one of your own brothers, Marlon.”

  Lawson clenched his hands to stop them from shaking. Ruthven reached out and placed a reassuring hand on his elbow. The Virago’s executive officer nodded in silent gratitude.

  “I know you’re trying to psych me out, Scotty, but it won’t work,” Ruthven said. “I don’t want to hurt anymore of my fellow Americans, but you’ve got to wave off.”

  “Then you leave me no choice but to intercept and neutralize you, Marlon.”

  “Look, it doesn’t have to be this way,” Ruthven said. “Scotty, I’m begging you. Don’t make me do this. Let’s just back off and leave each other alone.”

  Dennon’s voice was calm once more. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Marlon. I have a duty to serve my country- a duty that you seem to have completely disregarded. I was your CO and right now I’m ordering you to surrender your spacecraft. Allow my men to board and we’ll take you into custody. I promise that I’ll put in a good word for you during the court martial. You were an excellent spacecraft commander and still a damn good pilot. If you have any honor left, please comply.”

  Ruthven’s hand shook as he muted the com-link before turning to look at his executive officer. Lawson simply nodded at him, indicating that no matter what he decision was, he would stand with his commanding officer all the way.

  Switching the com-link back to chat mode, Ruthven gritted his teeth. “If you want this spacecraft, then come and take it. Over and out.” The moment he finished, Ruthven turned off the optical communications system.

  “They’re starting to accelerate again,” Lawson said, “looks like they’re spreading out.”

  Ruthven nodded. “I know their tactics. You and I were part of Starfleet Orion for years. What’s their range?”

  “Closing to one hundred and fifty thousand klicks,” Lawson said. “We can still evade the fleet by going around them. We’ve got the speed to do that.”

  Ruthven shook his head. “We won’t get away them forever. Once we run out of fuel, they’ll catch up with us eventually. We’re going to have to take them out.”

  Lawson stared blankly at his console. “All of them? Wouldn’t they back off since they know they don’t have a chance?”

  “I know Scotty. No way will he ever back off,” Ruthven said softly. “He’ll follow orders to the end. So will the other spacecraft commanders.”

  “Can we just disable them, maybe?”

  “We’ll try,” Ruthven said as he adjusted the Virago’s throttle to maximum.

  “They’ve accelerated to one hundred kilometers per second,” the pilot of the Enterprise said. “Heading straight for us. Estimated time till optimum weapons range will be in around ten minutes.”

  “Go to weapons free,” Colonel Dennon said. “Do not fire the missiles until they get to within five hundred klicks, then fire it all.”

  “Understood, sir,” the spacecraft weapons officer said.

  Dennon activated the com-link and switched to fleet channel. “Okay, this is it. Let’s do the circle jerk formation. Enterprise is at the top, Drummond at the bottom.”

  The other spacecraft commanders immediately complied. Within a matter of seconds, the five Orion battlecruisers formed an ever widening circle while facing the Virago. They hoped to place their target in the middle of the ring and bombard it with missiles and railgun fire from all sides.

  “Circle jerk,” Lawson said. “We did this exact formation during training all those years ago.”

  “I see it,” Ruthven said. “I’m going full delta-v down towards the bottom Orion. Make sure the point defense systems are up, Vince, because they’ll be throwing missiles at us left and right. These aren’t the old solid state fuel ones that the Freeman fired at us either- these are hypergolic fueled, multi-stage, so they’ll be almost twice as fast.”

  “No problem, Colonel,” Lawson said. “Defensive systems fully operational.”

  Ruthven activated the com-link channel to the Russian. “Vlad, how many missiles have I got?”

  Vlad Utkin had attached his tether line beside one of the 15-meter tall casaba howitzers in the cavernous missile bay. He had already worn his life support pack, just before the entire chamber was depressurized a few minutes before. The constant gravity shifts were a huge distraction while h
e tapped his fingers in the air, using his visor’s smartglass as a virtual keyboard. The incoming com-link became another complication. He cursed loudly before answering it. “Da, da. I have four missiles ready for you- their status will be updated on your console in minute. I am working on fifth, but it’s hard to write code when everything keeps moving around like this.”

  “I’m sorry, that can’t be helped,” Ruthven said over the com-link. “For the record, it’s going to get worse, so be ready.”

  Vlad shook his head in frustration. If only they had given him one full day, he could crack all the failsafe systems for the entire batch. For the moment, it was a physically dangerous job since the pod bay doors could open at any time in order to allow the casaba howitzers to launch. Vlad had to make sure he was properly tethered to either the bulkhead or one of the inactive missiles, otherwise he would become part of the weapon when it detonated.

  Just as he entered the first line of the custom bypass script into the missile’s AI coding, he heard another beep coming from his com-link. He wanted to scream a torrent of invectives, but figured it could be something important. “Blyad! What is it?”

  Ganz’s voice was on the other line. “I need you to grant me access to CAIN’s internal security systems. I have to find that skank who’s loose in the Virago and deal with her.”

  “Dermo- I am arming missile right now! Can we talk this later?”

  “If she gets to sabotage the fusion drive or the reactor then we’ll all be dead, Vlad,” Ganz said. “I need access to all security feeds over to my smartglass, as well as any internal robotics systems right now.”

  Vlad grimaced as he virtually pushed aside the program he was working on and began to access CAIN’s central administrative system. “One minute, I am sending security codes and virtual console to you now, so you can finally kill that suka.”