by G J Ogden
“Ensign One, can you surge us through the aperture before the new ships arrive?” Sterling asked. He knew they had to get out of the sector quickly. Without their scanner jamming fields active, any new ship that arrived in the system would be able to monitor and record their surge vector, and learn where the Vanguard was headed.
“Negative, Captain,” Ensign One replied, with barely a breath separating question and answer. The AI worked fast and had likely calculated all of the possible scenarios before Sterling had even thought to ask. “From our current position, we require ninety-two seconds to surge and the first new ship will enter the system in five seconds from the point at which I finish this sentence.”
Sterling counted down in his head and true to his word, Ensign One was on the money.
“Three phase two Sa’Nerran Destroyers just surged in,” Commander Banks called out. “Time to intercept… Forty-nine minutes.”
Sterling wasn’t worried about the destroyers intercepting them - the Vanguard could swat those older alien warships like flies. What he needed was a way to blind their scanners.
“Can we generate a more focused jamming field from the secondary scanner array?” Sterling asked, turning to his chief engineer.
“I’m sorry, Captain, not from this range,” Razor replied. She had been rushing between a dozen different consoles and was out of breath. Sterling could see sweat twinkling on her iridescent skin. “But the scanners on those phase twos aren’t accurate at this range. If we surge now, there’s a chance they won’t monitor our vector precisely enough to get a fix on our end point.”
“What sort of chance?” Sterling asked.
“I’d say no better than thirty percent, sir,” Razor replied. From the downtrodden tone of her voice, the engineer knew that those odds weren’t good.
“I would estimate the probability of our surge vector remaining undetected at twenty-eight-point-nine percent,” Ensign One added, glancing over his metal shoulder at Sterling. “But the Lieutenant’s estimate is accurate enough.”
“It needs to be one hundred percent, people,” Sterling hit back. “We can’t risk the Obsidian base in Omega Four being detected. It’s the only place in the galaxy we can stay hidden from the Sa’Nerra and prepare our ships for a counter-attack.”
Banks’ console chimed again and Sterling closed his eyes and cursed under his breath.
“Two phase-two Sa’Nerran Light Cruisers just came onto the board,” Banks said. “It’s getting awfully crowded around here.”
“I’m open to suggestions,” Sterling said, looking at each member of his crew in turn.
“I have one, sir,” Ensign One said. “We can attempt a re-bound surge.”
Sterling’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead. They’d used the tactic of a rebound surge once before in order to prevent the Sa’Nerra from tracking their movements inside the Void. However, there was a big difference between performing the dangerous maneuver in a ship that was around four-hundred meters long, compared to one that was more than four kilometers from bow to stern.
“No-one has ever attempted a re-bound surge in a ship this big, Captain,” Razor chipped in. However, while she was voicing her concern, she did not sound hostile to the idea. “Theoretically, it’s possible, but the hull stresses would likely rip the ship apart by the second surge.”
Sterling turned back to Ensign One, whose immobile expression naturally gave nothing away. “Can you make it, Ensign?” he asked. It was the only question that mattered.
“Yes, captain,” the AI replied, again without hesitation. “I have already calculated the surge fields and stand ready to execute the maneuver.”
“This is the part where you say ‘but’, isn’t it, Ensign?” Sterling replied. He refused to believe that their escape would be so easy.
“There are caveats, of course,” Ensign One admitted. Sterling and Banks shot each other nervous looks. “Our final end point in Omega Four cannot be known with any accuracy. However, we will emerge close to the planet that is hiding the Obsidian base.”
“Just get to the bad news, Ensign,” Sterling said, noting that all the Sa’Nerran ships were accelerating rapidly toward them. Twelve torpedoes were already snaking their way toward the ship.
“The surge field generator will overload, sending a feedback pulse through the power distribution grid and temporarily disabling engines and navigation,” the robot continued. “I estimate we will be unable to maneuver for sixty-four seconds after we arrive in the Omega Four system.”
Sterling waited, expecting his AI ensign to gradually escalate his list of ‘caveats’ to ones with more serious consequences. However, the machine remained oddly silent.
“Is that it?” Banks asked, throwing her arms out wide. “No radiation surges that will cause us to grow two heads, or sudden g-forces that will liquefy our skeletons, or anything scary like that?”
“No, Commander, nothing scary like that,” Ensign One replied, coolly.
Sterling huffed a laugh. “I don’t know whether that makes me feel better or just more suspicious, but what the hell,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Spin up the surge field generator and take us in, Ensign.”
“Aye, Captain,” Ensign One replied before swivelling his unique, uniformed robot frame back to the helm controls.
Sterling went back to tapping his bionic finger against the side of his console as the Vanguard slowly powered its way toward the aperture. Twenty-six torpedoes were now racing toward them from the approaching vessels, but like the alien warships, the weapons would not reach them in time.
“Surging in ten seconds, Captain,” Ensign One called out.
Sterling started to draw in longer and slower breaths as the final countdown began. He remembered only too well how the last re-bound surge had made him feel sick to his stomach. Worse still, the time spent in a disembodied state had caused his mind to dredge up memories he’d tried to bury, and cruelly twist them to make them even more nightmarish.
“Surging in three… two… one…”
Then the ship, the CIC and Sterling’s body were consumed by the aperture. The first surge was quick and painless, lasting only a few seconds before he exploded back into reality on the bridge. Then the braking engines fired, burning so hard that they were nearly at the point of overload. The deck shook violently and Sterling had to clamp his jaw shut to stop his teeth from chattering. The energy level of the Vanguard’s massive surge field generators then built to a crescendo for a second time and the dreadnaught surged.
As before, the second surge was far worse than the first. Disorientation was a common and expected side-effect of any surge, and it usually passed within a minute or two. However, in a re-bound surge there wasn’t time for the senses to adjust before one was again consumed by nothingness. Sterling's mind began to wander aimlessly and a jumble of thoughts and memories began swirling around his head. He saw Ariel Gunn, her eyes sorrowful and hands clasped together in front of her chest. She was pleading with him. Begging for mercy. Then Sterling blasted her in the head and put her down. Suddenly a hand grabbed his shoulder from behind and Sterling was spun around to face Emissary Lana McQueen.
“You heartless bastard,” McQueen snarled. She slapped him around the face so hard that her nails drew blood. “You made me think that you loved me, then you shot me through the heart.” McQueen went to slap him again and Sterling raised his guard, but this time the emissary slid her hand inside and grabbed the back of his neck. She drew her face closer and Sterling thought she was about to headbutt him, but instead McQueen pressed her lips to his and kissed him. It was aggressive and painful and when McQueen finally pulled away, there was fresh blood coating her lips.
Sterling tried to speak, but no words came out. Then smoke began to billow from the Emissary’s chest and Sterling was assaulted by the rank odor of burning flesh. Moments later, there was a hole burned directly through McQueen’s body. The woman peered down and shoved her hand inside the cavity before pulling out a st
ill beating heart.
“Here, take this since you don’t have one of your own,” she spat, shoving the heart into Sterling’s hands. The Emissary’s eyes then glossed over and she dropped to the deck, dead.
Sterling was thrown back into reality for a second time and again the Vanguard’s immense braking engines kicked hard. Sterling realized he was already on his back, staring up at the ceiling of the CIC, which was spinning like a merry-go-round. His gut was churning and his head felt like it was about to explode. Then he was pulled back into the space between reality for a third and final time.
“I know you want me, Lucas…”
Sterling spun around to see Commander Mercedes Banks standing behind him. Her hair was worn down so that it flowed like silk over her naked body.
“Stop fighting it, Lucas. Give in to your desires,” Banks continued, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around Sterling’s neck.
Sterling again tried to speak, but even though his mouth opened no words came out. Banks then pulled him close and kissed him. He tried to resist, knowing that it was just another cruel figment of his sub-conscious, but he couldn’t do it. He slid his hands over Banks’ naked body and returned the kiss, giving himself over to her fully. Suddenly, there was the fizz of a plasma weapon and Sterling felt a sharp stab of pain. He drew back and looked down to see a glowing, circular hole in his chest. Wisps of smoke from the wound filled his nostrils. It tasted of death. Then Sterling realized that the hole not only extended through his chest, but through Banks’ too, penetrating all the way out through her back.
“How could you let them win?” Banks said, looking at Sterling with surprised, scornful eyes. “You were supposed to do anything. Sacrifice anything. Kill anyone. How could you let them win?”
“I… I… didn’t!” Sterling said, finally able to speak.
Banks hands slid off Sterling’s neck and she crumpled to the ground, dead.
“Mercedes, no!” Sterling cried out. He dropped to his knees besides Banks and pulled her close, but her body was already colder than the surface of the moon. Then Sterling heard the solid, thud, thud, thud of heavy military boots circling around him. A shadow crept across his face and he looked up to see Lana McQueen standing above him, in full Sa’Nerran armor.
“See, I knew I was right,” said the Emissary, in a gloating, arrogant tone. “You’re weak because of her. And because you’re weak, you will lose.”
The CIC of the Vanguard then exploded into view around him. Alarms were ringing in his ears, but the room was still spinning and he had no idea which station was sounding the alert.
“Captain!”
Was that Banks? Razor? McQueen even? Sterling thought. His senses were still too muddled to tell the difference.
“Captain, get up!”
Sterling felt powerful arms scoop underneath his body and lift him to his feet. The room was still revolving and he felt like he was going to throw up.
“Lucas, snap out of it!” said the voice, and this time Sterling knew it was Banks.
Pain stung his face and suddenly the room stopped spinning. He pressed his organic hand to his cheek, which felt hot. Then he saw Banks in front of him, one hand raised and the other clasping his shoulder. The memory of his experience during the re-bound surge then flooded back. Embarrassed, he was unable to meet Banks’ eyes.
“Report, Commander,” he said, hastily turning away from his first officer and pressing both hands onto his captain’s console to anchor himself. He felt a series of hard thumps resonate through the deck. It felt like the Vanguard was taking heavy weapons fire. “Are we under attack?” Sterling called out, raising his stinging eyes to the viewscreen.
“Yes, but not from the Sa’Nerra,” Banks replied before rushing back across to her station.
Sterling cursed and shook his head as he peered out at the dense swarm of rocks racing toward them. Their rebound surge had worked, but it had also spat them out directly in the middle of Omega Four’s icy ring system.
Chapter 32
The difficult decisions ahead
Sterling’s mouth went dry as he watched a chunk of icy rock the size of a space station hurtle toward the Vanguard. The imminent threat of annihilation cleared his head and focused his mind, like he’d been injected with one of Commander Graves’ miracle drugs.
“How long until we have maneuvering thrusters back online, Ensign?” Sterling asked his AI pilot.
“Ten seconds to engine restart, sir,” Ensign One replied. Even the AI’s voice was starting to show signs of stress. “However, even with engines back online, I cannot guarantee we will evade the incoming threat.”
“So how about we just blast that thing to pieces instead?” Banks added, glancing over at Lieutenant Shade.
“Negative, it’s too big,” Shade replied. She was still cool, but her tone was as urgent as it had ever been. “And I need every gun we have just to keep the other rocks from pulverizing us.”
On his console, Sterling could see that the Vanguard’s point defense guns and turret batteries were all engaged at maximum capacity. Even so, dozens of smaller chunks of rock and ice were still getting through. The damage was only superficial so far, but a hit from the object hurtling toward them would change that situation in a heartbeat.
“Then I’m afraid it’s all on you to get us out of this, Ensign One,” Sterling called back over to his helmsman. “Let’s see just how good you are.”
Sterling didn’t know whether the sentient AI would respond to the challenge in the same way as a human officer would. Perhaps the robot didn’t have an ego and so had no emotional need to prove itself to anyone. Either way, Sterling had not been exaggerating when he’d said that their lives were now solely in the hands of the robot soldier. If nothing else, he was counting on the AI’s own desire to survive to spur it on.
“Engines online, helm responding, Captain,” Ensign One said. Curiously, the AI was mimicking the sense of urgency that his other officers had displayed. Sterling wasn’t sure whether this was just in order to fit in, or whether the newly-sentient AI was actually capable of experiencing anxiety and even fear. “Lieutenant Razor, please divert all available power to the port bow thrusters and central main engines cluster,” Ensign One continued. “I require no other systems.”
Razor glanced to Sterling for confirmation and he swiftly nodded his acknowledgment.
“Re-routing power now,” Razor called out.
Sterling saw the power distribution configuration update on his panel, then moments later the Vanguard’s port bow thrusters engaged at fifty percent over standard.
“Ninety seconds to impact,” reported Commander Banks. Her console was creaking under the pressure of her super-human grip. “We’re turning, Captain,” she added. “Seven degrees… twenty-four… Damn this is fast!”
Sterling could hear the frame of the massive dreadnaught groaning from the stresses of their high-power maneuver. However, while he didn’t yet know the Vanguard as intimately as he knew the Invictus, he had faith that the ship would hold up. It had already endured much and come through intact. Like the Invictus and his Omega crew, the ship was a fighter.
“Main engines firing,” Ensign One said, though the statement was unnecessary, since Sterling felt the kick of acceleration before One had even finished speaking. “Stabilize engine and thruster power, please, Lieutenant.”
Sterling nodded to his engineer again and Razor re-balanced the power distribution to the engines and maneuvering thrusters. All eyes in the CIC then turned to the viewscreen and were glued to the image of the fragment hurtling toward them. It felt like they were the RMS Titanic, heading toward the iceberg that would ultimately doom it. Sterling hoped the fate of the UG Vanguard would be less catastrophic.
“Sixty seconds to impact,” Banks called out. Sterling looked down at his primary console and studied the readout of the rock’s position relative to the ship. It still looked like the massive projectile was going to hit.
“Ensign, we ne
ed more speed,” Sterling said, raising his eyes to his robot helmsman.
“The fragment will miss us, Captain, do not fear,” Ensign One replied, calmly.
Sterling raised an eyebrow and checked his console again. “That’s not what it looks like here, Ensign,” he hit back. “It’s looks like we’re playing chicken with an ice-ball the size of a repair dock, and we’re about to lose.”
“I have not yet had time to patch the consoles in the CIC with my modified code-base,” the helmsman answered, still as cool as the hunk of rock sailing toward them. “Its data processing accuracy is therefore inferior to my own.” The robot turned to face Sterling and fixed its glowing artificial eyes onto him. “Trust me, Captain. It will miss us.”
Sterling sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “Okay, Ensign, I trust you,” he replied, though a quick glance across to his first officer suggested Banks was less confident.
“Ten seconds…” Banks said, her voice rising in pitch and tempo. “Five seconds…”
Sterling forced down another hard, dry swallow and waited for the deck of the ship to shake as if it had been hit by an earthquake. However, the impact he had expected did not come.
“Well I’ll be damned…” Banks said, the relief evident in her voice. “It missed us, but not by much.”
“How much, Commander?” Sterling asked, curious to learn just how accurate his sentient AI’s prediction had been.
“If these readings are right, it flew over the dorsal engine section with barely twenty meters clearance, Captain,” Banks said, though it was obvious she was struggling to believe what she was reporting.
“Nineteen point three two meters, to be more precise, Commander,” Ensign One commented. The robot again turned to face the command stations. “Give or take a few millimeters of course.”