by Geoff North
Tor leaned back in the weapons chair. “What the hell are those?”
They looked like blades cutting through the very fabric of space itself. Nash began reporting. “Those, I believe, are the Pegan vessels that attacked us. Each vessel is eleven meters in length. No discernible propulsion system. No discernible weapons system.”
“They have weapons,” Sulafat said. “And so do we. It’s time to bring the nukes out of storage.”
“Our nuclear weapons will be ineffective out here,” Nash pointed out. “They’re programmed to detonate within a planet’s lower atmospheric pressure only.”
The Captain cursed under his breath. Three hundred missiles at their disposal with the capability of wiping out an entire world, and not one of them worth their weight in destructive energy out in space. The war had been lost before Ambition had even arrived to fight. There was only one option left at Sulafat’s disposal.
He called back to Argus as the fighter continued to drift before them, revealing more of the alien ships on the big screen. “Hail them.”
“The Pegans haven’t answered our hails for centuries. Why try now?”
“Because now we have something they’ll want to hear… Tell them we surrender.”
Chapter 17
“You should’ve voted for war,” Becrux said. “We’ve sided together on almost all things our entire lives, but this… you should’ve said yes.”
Gacrux Crucis paused on the ladder rungs. Every elevator in the propulsion section had shut down automatically as soon as the attack on Ambition had begun. He held on tightly as another shudder ran throughout the ship. Either the Pegans had disregarded the Captain’s call for surrender, or another part of Ambition’s hull had given out on its own as a result of the heavy exterior damage. He called down to his twin brother on the rungs seven feet below. “I love this old ship too much to see it destroyed. I hoped we could find an alternative.”
“Yeah, you could jump into an escape pod all on your own and head back for Earth.”
“Keep your voice down.” Turnback talk in public was frowned upon at the best of times; it was considered near-mutinous in the propulsion and engineering sections. Gacrux steered his brother away from the topic. “I think you’re upset because you had no say in it. I had a seat at the Captain’s table, and you didn’t.”
“I never wanted to be a section head.” Becrux pushed at the bottom of his brother’s boot. “Get up to three so I can help you repair the fold or we’ll both die hanging here.”
Two engineers helped them over the safety railing at the top. The brothers had made it to the third level of the main propulsion system. The ladder they’d climbed had brought them only a tenth of the way up the massive vertical propulsion shaft running through the heart of Ambition. Gacrux patted one of the engineers on the back and leaned against the railing to look up. The fold tower ran up the center of the shaft in its own anti-gravity field for another kilometer. The tower itself was featureless; an immense metal column ten meters in diameter with an inner shaft at its center less than a millimeter wide. There were no ladders attached to the outer casing. There were no metal seals or rivets holding it in place. The fold tower was one continuous piece of heavy lead and titanium composite constructed to hold power comparable to a collapsing star within its single bombardment artery.
The Propulsion chief spotted the only blemish on its outer surface approximately thirty meters above where he and his brother were standing. The ancient scar couldn’t be noticed unless one knew where to look, and Gacrux knew the location better than the back of his hand. It had been almost seven centuries since the Turnback bomb had detonated and crippled the ship. It took two years to fix the column, and another three to get the fold drive working again. But the drive had never been completely repaired. Gacrux and dozens of other Propulsion heads before him had to settle for ten per cent light speed ever since.
Someday, he thought, someday he would know what Ambition’s full ninety per cent light speed capability felt like. But that day would never come unless they survived the hours directly ahead first. “Where’s the jam?”
One of the engineers handed him a tablet showing the interior damage. He pointed at the fold tower before them to drive the point home with even more visual effect. “Right in front of us sir. Three dark matter protons are stacked one on top of the other, and unless they get moving again within ninety minutes, this whole ship will collapse into nothingness.”
“You won’t feel a thing,” Becrux said. “None of us will.”
Gacrux snorted weakly. He may have shared his brother’s dark sense of humor, but this was hardly the time for it. “Then we have an hour and a half to figure out whether there’s been gravitational interference, or if the column itself has taken any structural damage.”
Gacrux showed the tablet display to Becrux. The outline of column was green against black; the stalled protons were represented in red. A light cloud of pink hovered over the three red spots. “Definitely a gravity spike,” Becrux pointed out. “No signs of column damage.”
Gacrux nodded. “Maybe, but I’m not risking the ship solely on what the computers are showing us. There could be stress lines the same size as those jammed protons running through the column casing the program might’ve missed.”
“That’s highly unlikely.”
“But not impossible.” Gacrux handed the tablet back to the engineer and strode quickly into the level three control room. He went to the first big cluster of computer screens and engineers seated before them. “Run it again, Ella.”
The young woman sitting in front of the biggest screen began typing into the engineering keyboard. “I’ve run it twice since you started the climb up from below. There’s been no change, no signs of a breach. This will be the fourth scan.”
“Then scan it ten more times if that’s what it takes,” Gacrux snapped. “I’m not ordering a phased grav re-start around the column until I’m positive those DMPs can’t escape out a goddamned crack in the casing.”
“Easy, brother,” Becrux whispered at his back. “Let her do the job.”
Gacrux ground his teeth until he heard them creak. Sulafat needed the ship moving again, and he didn’t want to disappoint the Captain. But if they rushed things and tried to force active particles through a damaged tube, the results would be disastrous—for both sides. Under normal circumstances, a potential column breach would be monitored for at least twelve hours and a hundred scans. They didn’t have that much time. Three dark matter protons were stuck in there instead of one.
A communication whistle sounded somewhere behind Gacrux. One of the engineers tossed him a hand-held comm seconds later. “The Captain needs to speak to you, sir.”
Gacrux spoke first. “Any chance you could hold this ship still for at least another hour, sir? We need to run some delicate tests down here.”
“A hundred Pegan vessels have us surrounded,” Sulafat answered. “They haven’t replied to any of our hails. We don’t have an hour to play with… we might not even have a minute to spare. You need to get the fold drive working again now.”
The Captain sounded calm enough, but Gacrux could hear the condition red alarms sounding in the background. The bridge crew was scrambling, preparing for one last massive assault. “Sir, it’s risky. A phased grav restart at this time could result in one of the jammed DMPs going off in the column. Have you considered an evacuation?”
“Abandon ship? Did you hear what I said? We’re surrounded by enemy forces. They’d pick us off one rescue pod at a time. No, we stay together. I’m giving you half an hour, Gacrux. Get my ship moving again.”
The line went dead. Gacrux placed the comm down on the console in front of him. “Ella, what are the results from the fourth scan.”
“Gravity disruption only sir. No sign of column instability.”
“Run it one more time.” He looked around at the engineers and propulsion mechanics gathered around him. “Then prepare for a phased grav restart.”
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br /> “That could kill us all in an instant,” Becrux warned.
There was an audible groan throughout the ship as the Pegan forces continued to pound at the outer hull. “If the protons collapse inside the column, it’ll be like you said… we won’t feel a thing.”
Chapter 18
Laris burst into garage 2 and was shocked to see every ship still sitting inside the monstrous bay. None of them had set out into space to engage the enemy. Some of the platoon chiefs and miluns were even sitting on the wings of their ships or milling about restlessly on the bay floor. He ran to the closest chief, a man he knew called Schedar Ope. “What the hell’s going on here?”
Schedar stood up from the stair railing attached to his ship. The miluns standing around him cleared away. “Laris? Laris Bear? You’re still alive?”
“I was the only one that made it out.” Men and women had started to gather around him—fellow fighters stunned to see one of their own from the completely destroyed first garage standing amongst them. They were staring at the tears and black smears on his spacesuit. He was a mess to behold, more ghost than man standing before their unbelieving eyes. “Why are you all still here? Why aren’t you out there fighting back?”
“Old Sulafat’s put the entire operation on hold,” Schedar answered. “No more ships off of Ambition. He wants us to play dead.”
A thunderous clap echoed throughout the bay. The floor beneath Laris’s boots shook. “Doesn’t sound like the Pegans are buying it. We have to fight them.”
Schedar shrugged. “When the crazy old bastard comes to his senses, we’ll be ready. But until then every fighter remains put.”
Schedar’s squadron boss heard the comment a few ships down the line. “Watch that mouth of yours, Ope. That’s the Captain of Ambition you’re talking about.”
Schedar shrugged again and whispered. “Won’t be Captain of anything much longer.”
Laris started to walk between the two long columns of waiting fighter ships. Schedar Ope called after him. “Where do you think you’re going? You should haul that burned ass of yours to Medical section.”
Laris waved him off without looking back. He continued walking between the ships, towards the giant exterior door half kilometer away. Let them play dead. Let them obey the Captain’s orders. Laris wasn’t going to listen to anyone anymore. He was going to take matters into his own hands.
Chapter 19
Order had been re-established. Ambition was surrounded by an entire armada of enemy vessels, but Sulafat was in control of the ten remaining men and women on his bridge as the Pegan weapons continued to pummel the exterior of their ship.
“Nash, report.”
“Propulsion has completed its fifth scan of the fold drive column. No structural anomalies detected. All crew members on starboard forward decks four and five have been relocated until hull integrity can be guaranteed.” Decks four and five were the levels located directly above the now open and depressurized fighter garage 1. “Medical section is fully staffed and awaiting further casualties. One of the six main holding tanks in Water Treatment section is reporting impurities. This was likely caused from damage to the interior membrane. The water is unsafe to drink, but the new section head guarantees a complete membrane replacement and fluid re-purification in less than ten hours.”
New section head, Sulafat thought grimly. The previous head of Food & Water was now floating out in space. Poor Garnet. He was the most hopeful of all of us.
The robot continued briefing his Captain with Ambition’s most critical and vital functions until Sulafat raised a single finger to his lips. Nash cut his report short. Sulafat turned slightly in his command chair. “Argus, I know I’ve asked a dozen times, but have you received any word at all from the Pegans? I’d be happy with a smoke signal right about now.”
“Nothing, Captain. I’ve been trying on all frequencies.” She looked over at him. “Smoke signal?”
He waved her off. “Keep trying.”
Tor reported from the weapons station. “The Pegan vessels are still closing in. One hundred ten in total now. Our HCs have locked on and taken a dozen out already.” The ship continued to tremble as the exterior took more hostile fire. Ambition’s heavy cannons—the HCs—unleashed continuous rounds of heat-seeking missiles at multiple targets, shaking the bridge crew officers in their seats even more.
Sulafat knew the odds of establishing any kind of peaceful contact with the Pegans were slipping away quickly, but he couldn’t help feeling a small sense of satisfaction. The old ship wouldn’t last long under these conditions—knowing she could defend herself in the final minutes of their existence gave him some solace at least. The continuous thump of Ambition’s cannons firing was like the ship’s heartbeat, pounding hard and steady, fighting for life. So much for playing dead.
“The fighters in garage 2 are getting restless,” Tor said. “They want to know why they’re still grounded.”
“Without eyes on the exterior of that door confirming the absence of a second explosive device, I’m not risking any more of our people.”
“We’ll all die anyway if those fighters don’t launch.”
Sulafat nodded at his new General. “I understand, but the fighters will remain where they are for now.” Tor turned back to his weapons board. He was a good replacement for Agle, the Captain thought. Less than an hour on the job and he’d already shown more backbone than the previous leader of the military had in a quarter of a century. You did one thing right today, old man. Don’t let it go to your head.
Nash stepped in closer to the base of the command chair platform. “General Emin is correct. The alien ships have set a tight perimeter around Ambition and they’re continuing to close. If each of those vessels is equipped with an explosive similar to—”
“I’m aware, Nash. But I have a feeling if the Pegans wanted this ship completely destroyed, they could’ve done it by now. They haven’t answered our call of surrender… perhaps their curiosity is all that’s keeping this ship in one piece.”
The ship shook as more Pegan fire cut into the exterior. “Ambition’s hull was designed to withstand the rigors of interstellar travel and limited military confrontation. We are not invulnerable. I recommend a hasty retreat.”
“We’re trying, Nash, we’re trying.” Sulafat pressed a button on the communications console of his armrest. “Gacrux, your half hour is up. We need to get this ship moving. What’s the status of the fold drive?”
There was a long pause over the bridge speakers before the propulsion head answered. “Scan six on the column is thirty-five per cent complete. No structural damage detected.”
“Prepare for a cold grav restart on my command. Those protons have to get moving again with a moment’s notice.”
“A cold restart? Phased is dangerous enough under the circumstances. If it was just one DMP stalled in the tube, I’d say it was worth the risk. But three of them stacked together? We’d either implode on the spot or become the first vessel in human history to crack light speed, and I’m not convinced this old girl could handle the ride.”
“Crack light speed?”
“Ambition’s fold drive was designed to collapse one DMP every seven seconds to achieve close to light speed. We’ve only been pushing them through every twenty seconds ever since the Turnback Revolution.”
Sulafat nodded his head impatiently even though the section head couldn’t see him. “I have a slight understanding of how the fold drive works, Gacrux. Get to the point.”
“Phasing pushes the DMPs through gradually. A cold restart will force those protons into the collapse chamber all at once. It will push the ship harder than it was designed to handle.”
Nash reached up and tapped the back of Sulafat’s hand with a metal finger. “Simultaneous DMP crushing has been theorized for centuries, Captain. The risks were always considered too dangerous to actually attempt it.”
“Will the Pegans be able to detect a phased restart?”
“Yes,” N
ash and Gacrux answered at the same time. The propulsion head continued. “That kind of power surge would be hard to miss.”
“And am I correct in assuming a phased restart would take close to a minute to accomplish with the three protons stuck inside the column?”
“Yes, Captain,” Gacrux replied solemnly.
“We can’t give the Pegans sixty seconds. They’ll blow us out of the sky before the second proton unjams. We need all three moving at once.” The bridge had gone quiet. Every crew member at their station was staring at the Captain. “Finish the sixth scan, and prepare to initiate a cold restart. We’ll either escape from our enemies, or take them out in the attempt.”
“Captain, a situation’s broken out in garage 2,” Argus reported.
“They’ve discovered another explosive?”
“No, sir.” The woman adjusted her headset and listened further. “Someone’s drawn a sidearm and commandeered one of the fighters.”
Sulafat spun his chair around. “What? Tell whoever’s in charge down there to handle it.”
Argus listened for a few more moments. “That won’t be easy. It’s platoon chief Laris Bear from garage 1. He’s threatening to unleash the fighter’s missiles inside the bay unless the door’s opened.”
Chapter 20
They didn’t think he would do it. None of them thought he would actually open fire inside the garage, but the squad bosses and platoon chiefs had still ordered all fighters closest to the bay doors to evacuate their ships and move back farther into the bay’s cavernous depths.
Laris Bear trained the fighter’s guns on the ship opposite him nearest to the doors and pulled the trigger. He took out one of its wings with a single concentrated laser burst. People scrambled even further down the bay in a wave of panic. Fire and smoke filled the bay’s far end as the last of the wing debris fell around the surrounding ships. Laris opened a direct line to the bridge and spoke. “That was just a warning. Open the doors or it’ll be a missile next.”