The Long Road Home (A Learning Experience Book 4)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “I don’t blame them,” Elton said.

  He smiled, rather coldly. In theory, inspecting a ship shouldn't take long; in practice, each inspection could easily take up to an hour, even if the inspectors didn't have any reason to be suspicious. Passing through a gravity point took weeks or months off someone’s trip, but the delays would still mount up. A freighter captain could easily lose his ship if he arrived late - or didn't arrive at all - even if it wasn't his fault. He’d certainly have to go to the courts to escape blame, which would take months ... if not years. The Harmonies were not making themselves popular.

  We’ll just have to hope they pay an immense price for trying to cut us off, he thought.

  “Have the analyst deck scan the communications for anything we can use,” he ordered, shortly. It was unlikely that they’d stumble across any genuine revolutionary group - there was no reason to believe that this system wasn't as heavily monitored as Harmony itself - but there was no harm in trying. “And see if you can pick up any news broadcasts.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Williams said.

  “They’re bringing in more warships,” Callaway said. “I’m picking up another battle squadron in FTL, ETA seventeen hours.”

  “We’ll be gone by the time they arrive,” Elton said. They were due to cross the gravity point in fifteen hours, unless they were challenged. If that happened ... he sighed, inwardly. If that happened, they would have to flee. “Do you have any updates on the gravity point?”

  “Seven fortresses, nine warships of various classes,” Callaway said. “And probably more, outside sensor range.”

  Elton nodded. “Keep monitoring the situation,” he ordered, stiffly. “And alert me if anything changes.”

  He took another nap when Biscoe returned to the bridge, then toured his ship, inspecting the different compartments. His crew were bearing up well, although he was grimly aware that they knew the odds of getting home as well as he did. And yet, they hadn't given up. They knew that humanity had survived vast challenges in the past and would survive more in the future. He couldn’t help feeling proud of them as he walked slowly back to the bridge. His ship and crew had proved themselves, even though it was possible that no one would ever know what had happened to them.

  At least I know, he thought. And that’s all that matters right now.

  “Captain,” Biscoe said, as he stepped through the hatch. “We are approaching the gravity point.”

  Elton nodded and took his seat. The second gravity point looked very much like the first, with lines of starships waiting for inspection before they were allowed to make transit. His sensors were picking up dozens of messages running from ship to ship, mostly from freighter crews bitching about being forced to wait. Elton rather hoped that some of the crews would start a charge at the gravity point, although he knew it would end badly. Fortresses designed to stand off battleships wouldn't have any trouble scything down unarmed freighters.

  “Send them our ID and ship logs,” he ordered. “And then request permission to jump.”

  He felt his heart sink as he studied the display. This gravity point was clearly better manned, allowing the locals to inspect far more freighters before allowing them to head through the gravity point. Dozens of shuttles were flying around, shadowed by armed gunboats ... just in case some of the crews didn't get the message. There was a fast lane, true, but this one seemed restricted to warships and courier boats. He had the nasty feeling that they might have stumbled into a trap.

  “Prepare to trigger the explosive bolts,” he ordered. They didn't dare get much closer without clear permission to proceed. Odyssey was already far too close to a number of enemy warships. And their weapons were presumably already charged and ready to fire. “Mr. XO, withdraw all the crew from the freighter.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Biscoe said. “They’re already heading back to Odyssey.”

  Williams looked up. “Captain,” he said. His voice was very cold. “They’re ordering us to prepare to be boarded.”

  Elton exchanged a long glance with Biscoe. Had they been spotted, somehow? Or had they merely been unlucky? Or ... he wondered, suddenly, if they'd been a little too quick to send their ID to the fortresses. The Hordesmen liked to pretend that they didn’t have to acknowledge any outside authority. Maybe they hadn't acted like Hordesmen ...

  He cursed under his breath. There was no way they could fool an inspection party, not for more than a few seconds. He didn't have any Hordesmen on his ship ... he didn't know why they’d decided to search Odyssey, but it didn't matter. They were trapped, unless they moved now.

  “Incoming shuttle,” Callaway reported. A new icon appeared on the display, followed by five more. The gunboats were no threat to Odyssey, normally, but they’d be a menace as long as the cruiser was trapped within the freighter. “ETA seven minutes. Captain?”

  “Trigger the explosive bolts on my command,” Elton ordered. The freighter could do one last job for them before its inevitable destruction. “And prepare to transmit a distress signal.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Callaway said.

  “The freighter is clear, sir,” Biscoe reported. “Mr. Wolf reports that the explosive bolts are ready to detonate.”

  Elton gritted his teeth. The Galactics would probably believe that the freighter had suffered a catastrophic failure, given how little regard they had for the Hordesmen, but that wouldn't last long. They’d see Odyssey as she appeared from the expanding cloud of debris. And then ...

  “Mr. Williams, prepare to transmit the full account of our adventures,” he ordered. The Harmonies would have to keep the message from spreading, whatever it took. It might just keep them from giving chase. “Mr. Callaway ...?”

  “Yes, Captain?”

  Elton took a breath. “Trigger the bolts,” he ordered. “And then get us out of here!”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Point of order.

  Accusing someone of practicing self-delusion is not helpful. If you believe someone is wrong, point out - calmly and reasonably - why you believe they are wrong. In line with forum guidelines - paragraph two, subsection one - please consider this an official warning. A second offense will result in a kick or a back.

  Your friendly moderation staff.

  -Solar Datanet, Political Forum (Grand Alliance Thoughts).

  Odyssey shook, violently.

  “The explosive bolts have triggered,” Biscoe reported. “The freighter is coming apart.”

  “Bring up the drive field,” Elton ordered. An outside observer would see an expanding sphere of debris, but it wouldn't take them long to see what lurked inside the sphere. “Shove the debris out as hard as you can.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Marie said.

  “Enemy warships are activating their sensors,” Callaway said. “I think they’ve noticed us.”

  “Bring us about, then start transmitting the message,” Elton ordered. He considered, briefly, trying to race for the gravity point, but they’d have to run another gauntlet before jumping out of the system. “And prepare to enter FTL.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Williams said. “Transmitting now.”

  And let’s hope that’s enough to shatter whatever lies the Harmonies have been telling, Elton thought. A dozen red icons were gliding forward, their sensors sweeping through space towards Odyssey. We might find that we have some allies after all.

  “Enemy warships moving into attack position,” Callaway said. “They have a solid lock on our hull.”

  “Stand by point defence,” Elton ordered.

  “Picking up an all-ships message,” Williams said. “The local system control is ordering all ships to cut their drives or be fired upon.”

  “They’re panicking,” Biscoe said.

  Elton nodded in grim agreement. The Harmonies should know better than to issue an order that wouldn't be obeyed. Sure, there were plenty of civilian ships that were too close to the warships to escape - they’d do as they were told - but there were hundreds of others that
were out of effective range, to say nothing of the neutral warships. They would probably be bringing up their stardrives and preparing to flee.

  And they’ll be taking the message with them, he thought. The Harmonies have just dropped the ball.

  The display lit up as the enemy warships belched a giant volley of missiles. “Captain,” Callaway said. “Incoming missiles.”

  “I do believe I noticed,” Elton said, dryly. “Helm?”

  “Four minutes to FTL,” Marie said. “Picking up speed now.”

  “They’re also dispatching gunboats,” Callaway said. “But there’s some confusion about the target.”

  Elton nodded. He’d been right. Hundreds of civilian ships were scattering, heading in all directions. Hunting them all down would be a bitch of a job, particularly as the Harmonies hadn't even been able to catch Odyssey alone. Word would spread, no matter what the Harmonies did. He just hoped they wouldn't be able to weather the coming storm.

  “Target them if they come within engagement range,” he ordered. The enemy missiles were closing in, rapidly. “But remain focused on the missiles.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Callaway said.

  Elton gritted his teeth as the missiles closed into attack range. There was no time to launch decoys, let alone set up ECM fields. They were just too close to the warships for trickery to work. Instead, he watched helplessly as dozens of missiles were burned out of space, leaving dozens more to roar towards his ship. The tactical staff hastily reinforced the rear shields ...

  Odyssey rocked, violently. “Two direct hits,” Callaway reported. “Shields held. The enemy is firing a second salvo.”

  They should have fired immediately after reloading their tubes, Elton thought. Did they think they’d impress us ...

  ... Or are they concerned about looking like idiots in front of hundreds of witnesses?

  He dismissed the thought for later consideration. “Damage report?”

  “Nothing beyond a few bumps and bruises,” Biscoe said. “Shield Seven is showing signs of overloading, but Shield Six and Shield Eight are ready to take up the strain.”

  “Good,” Elton said. “Time to get out of here?”

  “Two minutes,” Marie said. The display changed to show hundreds of freighters dropping into FTL and fleeing in all directions. “We’ll be in good company.”

  “Take us into FTL as soon as the drive is powered up,” Elton ordered. “Do not wait for orders.”

  “Aye, sir,” Marie said.

  “Enemy missiles closing to engagement range,” Callaway said. “Request permission to return fire.”

  “Denied,” Elton said.

  He shook his head. He understood why Callaway wanted to return fire, but Elton was all too aware of the practical limitations. Odyssey didn't have the firepower to prevail - or even inflict significant damage - unless she used her remaining Hammers. And he didn't have enough of them to waste. Besides, there were too many watching eyes. A display of humanity’s weapons technology would kick-start hundreds of research programs into high gear. An arms race so far from Sol might set off a war ...

  ... Or it might leave the Galactics better armed against Sol, when the cold war turned hot again.

  “Missiles entering attack range,” Callaway said. He cursed under his breath. “Captain, they’ve improved their targeting programs. The missiles are targeted on weak patches in our shields.”

  Elton cursed. “All hands, brace for impact,” he ordered. “I say again ...”

  The starship yawed, the gravity field flaring madly for a long second. Elton clung to his console and looked up at the display, cursing under his breath as a multitude of red icons flared into existence and stubbornly refused to fade. They’d been hit and hit badly.

  “Damage to Drive One,” Biscoe reported, grimly. Another series of quivers ran through the ship. “Damage control teams are already on the way.”

  “Adjusting drive field nodes to compensate,” Marie said. “FTL in twenty seconds.”

  Elton sucked in his breath as the reports streamed into his console. Drive One had taken heavy damage, damage that might not be repairable outside a shipyard. It would slow them down, perhaps significantly. The engineering crews would do their best, but fixing the damage might be beyond them ...

  “FTL in ten,” Marie added.

  “They’re launching a third salvo,” Callaway warned. “Captain, they’re deploying warships to block our escape.”

  “Evasive action,” Elton ordered. It probably didn't matter. They didn't realise just how quickly a human-designed stardrive could be powered up. “Their missiles are not going to reach us in time.”

  “FTL,” Marie said.

  Odyssey lurched, again, as the drive nodes struggled to compensate for the damage. Elton felt the gravity twist for a second time, then snap back to normal as Odyssey dropped into FTL. The display went blank, a second later. He leaned back in his chair, trying to keep the relief off his face. That had been far too close for comfort.

  And we’re going to have to find another way through the next set of gravity points, he thought, numbly. He hadn't had time to come up with any contingency plans. They’ll be searching every last ship after this.

  “Tactical, project a location where we can make repairs in reasonable safety,” he ordered, slowly. “Helm, takes us there as fast as you can.”

  “Aye, sir,” Callaway said. “Why is there never a really good nebula around to hide in when you need it?”

  Elton snorted. “Mr. Biscoe?”

  “Engineering is working on Drive One now,” Biscoe said. “They don’t have a proper report yet.”

  “Let me know when they do,” Elton said.

  He brought up a starchart and studied it thoughtfully, turning options over and over in his head. The Harmonies couldn't have expected to run into Odyssey in their system, not like that. In hindsight, they’d probably decided to search all the ships and managed to snag Odyssey through sheer luck. If he was lucky, that meant they hadn't had time to plan a search operation, let alone launch it before Odyssey dropped back out of FTL. But that meant that they now had a rough idea of where Odyssey was.

  His lips twitched. Somewhere within twenty cubed light years, he thought. They’ve sure got us now!

  It wasn't as reassuring as it seemed. They’d jumped through one gravity point, presumably escaping whatever forces were still combing space near Kami, but now the Harmonies knew where to look for them again. It wouldn't be long before they summoned reinforcements and started to bar all the remaining gravity points. Odyssey was still trapped, merely trapped in a different section of space. They had to get further away before it was too late.

  “Captain,” Marie said. “We are slowing to sublight now.”

  “Prepare to return to FTL,” Elton ordered. “Tactical, scan for incoming enemy ships.”

  “Aye, sir,” Callaway said.

  Elton closed his eyes for a long moment. They should be out of sensor range ... but the Harmonies had plenty of practice in deploying their ships to extend their range and track fugitives down. Odyssey had been damaged, too. They had plenty of incentive to try to get a fix on her position before it was too late.

  Odyssey quivered as she returned to realspace. Elton hoped that was a good sign.

  “Scan complete,” Callaway said. “The enemy ships are fanning out. They don’t appear to have a solid lock on us.”

  “That won’t last,” Elton said. He rose. “Mr. Biscoe, you have the bridge. Keep monitoring the situation. If they come after us, I want you to take us out of here.”

  “Aye, sir,” Biscoe said. “I have the bridge.”

  ***

  Rebecca wished, just for a moment, that she understood the icons and text boxes hovering around the holographic image of Odyssey’s rear drive nacelles. Her implants attempted to provide some technobabble translations, but the more she looked at them, the more confused she became. She just didn't have the background to understand them.

  She look
ed at the captain, feeling cold. Captain Yasser looked haggard, as if he was reaching the limits of his endurance. He hid it well, but Rebecca knew him well enough to tell that he was at the end of the line. She didn't blame him, either. His ship had been badly hurt, while they were still trapped an unimaginable distance from home. She knew he loved his ship.

  “Tell me,” she said, more to get him to talk than anything else. “How bad is it?”

  “We won’t know until we find out if we can repair Drive One,” the captain said. He picked up his coffee and took a long sip. “If we can, we should be able to hold the ship together long enough to get home. If not ... we may be in some trouble. We’ll be too slow to escape.”