“We’ll see,” Elton said. “Punch us up as hard as you can.”
“Aye, sir,” Marie said.
“Enemy ships are opening fire,” Callaway said. “Request permission to deploy drones.”
“Granted,” Elton said.
He couldn't help feeling a flicker of Déjà Vu as Odyssey retreated from yet another gravity point, struggling to bring her FTL drive up before it was too late. It looked like any one of their previous engagements. And yet, there were subtle differences. It was growing more and more apparent that the enemy had updated their missile targeting systems to compensate for Odyssey’s superior ECM. Maybe they were still firing at long range, running the risk of burnout before they reached their target, but the odds of scoring a hit were considerably higher.
“They’re not being spoofed so well,” Callaway commented. “Drones two through five haven’t managed to lure any of the missiles out of place.”
Elton scowled as the point defence opened fire. He’d assumed the Harmonies wanted the ship intact - or as intact as possible - and he still thought that that had been the original plan. But the Harmonies were learning from their engagements too, testing themselves against a human starship in fairly controlled circumstances. Commodore Longlegs might find herself at an unexpected disadvantage if the Harmonies attacked Hudson Base, if some of her technological tricks were useless. Odyssey wasn't a warship, but her defences were very definitely military-grade.
“Missiles closing to attack range,” Callaway warned. “Impact in seventeen seconds.”
“Brace for impact,” Elton ordered.
“Targeting data suggests they’re trying to hammer our drives,” Biscoe added. “Captain, they know we’re damaged.”
“Yeah,” Elton said. “But we won’t die easily.”
Odyssey rocked as two missiles slammed home, but neither penetrated the shields. “Shields holding,” Callaway reported. “The impact may have shook a few things loose.”
“FTL in one minute,” Marie said. “Captain?”
“Take us into FTL as soon as possible,” Elton said. “We may not have a ship left if we hang around for much longer.”
“Aye, Captain,” Marie said.
The enemy ships opened fire again, pouring out a torrent of missiles. Others jumped forward in FTL, trying to get into firing position to force Odyssey to run the gauntlet. Elton wondered, absently, just how many neutral worlds were now aware of what was going on ... and what, if anything, they'd do about it. The Harmonies had broken so many interstellar conventions that there had to be war. Hadn't they?
“Stardrive engaging ... now,” Marie said.
The display blanked as Odyssey dropped into FTL. Elton allowed himself a moment of pure relief. They’d escaped, barely. And they were several hundred light years closer to their destination.
And, on the other hand, half the crew is in no state to do much of anything, he reminded himself. And we’re still a long way from home.
He rose. “Keep us in FTL, on a rough course for UTU-758, and drop us out once we are outside enemy sensor range,” he ordered. There was nothing orbiting UTU-758, as far as he knew, which would probably excite the enemy’s paranoia. “Be prepared to move at any moment. They’ll be searching for us still.”
“Aye, Captain,” Marie said.
“Mr. XO, you have the bridge,” Elton added. His chest still hurt, a dull throbbing that felt too real to be anything else. “Concentrate on repairing and then cleaning the ship.”
“Aye, sir,” Biscoe said.
“And we have to figure out what to do next,” Elton said. “We’re not out of the woods yet.”
***
“This isn't going to make for an interesting chapter in my memoires,” Rebecca said, as she stripped off her tunic. “I didn't join the diplomatic service to spend my days cleaning vomit off the decks.”
“My old instructors used to say it built character,” Captain Yasser said. He sounded happier than the last time Rebecca had seen him, before they’d blasted their way through the gravity point. “Actually, they said that anything we didn't like built character. Getting out of bed at stupid o’clock? That built character. Getting our asses kicked at three-dimensional combat simulations? That built character. Facing a burly marine in the combat ring? Believe me, that built character.”
Rebecca snorted. “What about going off on shore leave with a local beauty?”
“I believe the hangover afterwards was known to build character too,” the captain said.
“Hah,” Rebecca said. “There are pills for that, aren’t there?”
She stepped into the shower, trying not to smell herself. Her body felt sore, but she hadn't disgraced herself by throwing up helplessly. Luckily - or unluckily - she’d been rounded up by one of the crew to help clean the decks. She didn't mind, not really, but after four hours of scrubbing the decks she was all too aware that she smelt terrible. And yet ...
I could be one of the unlucky crewmen who ended up in sickbay, she told herself, as she turned on the water. It could be a great deal worse.
The warm water ran down her body, splashing over her breasts and down her legs. She looked down, half-expecting to see savage bruises covering her abdomen, but her skin was utterly unmarked. She bent over and touched her leg, unsure what she expected to feel. But there was nothing, just a dull throbbing pain that refused to fade. If it had been quite bad enough for her - and it had - she hated to think what it must have been like for the poor souls in sickbay.
“I ache,” she said, sticking her head out of the shower. “Why does that happen?”
“I don’t think anyone ever came up with a universally-accepted theory that explains everything,” Captain Yasser said. He was lying on his bed, studying a datapad. Rebecca was torn between amusement that he wasn’t paying attention to her - let alone joining her in the shower - and wry understanding. The captain had to take care of his ship and crew. Besides, it wasn't as if she was a teenager who needed attention and approval at every moment of her day. “The Tokomak claim that a starship passing through a gravity point actually drops out of the known universe for a nanosecond, accounting for the sensation, and that moving faster only makes the sensation worse. They might be right.”
Rebecca nodded as she washed her hair, then turned off the water and dried herself. “We made it through the gravity point,” she said, as she walked into the bedroom. The captain barely looked up from his datapad. “You did come up with something.”
“And now I have to come up with something else,” the captain said. He held the datapad out to her. “There are three more possible ways to get to Hudson Base, but they’ll have made sure to secure them all by now. We might have jumped a great deal closer to the base, yet ... not close enough to matter. They may have driven us too far from the only hope of survival.”
Rebecca cocked her head as she sat on the bed. “What about finding another world like Kami?”
“It’s a possibility,” the captain conceded. “But what do we do once we get there?”
He shook his head. “They were surprised, once, with our little Trojan Horse,” he said. “I don’t think we’ll get away with that a second time. They’ll merely insist on inspecting every freighter that tries to pass through the gravity points. We could try to pick up a second freighter and transfer the crew, abandoning Odyssey, but even that would be risky. I have no idea what happened to Lieutenant Dennis and your aide.”
Rebecca winced. She would have preferred to go herself, rather than send Mickey Tyler into possible danger. But she had to admit he was - on paper - one of the best-prepared people on Odyssey to slip onto an alien world. He’d make it to Hudson, she was sure, even if no one else made it there. And then someone, at least, would know what had happened to Odyssey and her crew.
“They’ll probably blood-check the crews too,” she added. “Won’t they?”
“If they’re paranoid enough,” the captain said. He frowned. “That fleet we encountered at Celesta c
ould pose a serious threat to Hudson Base, if they chose to attack instead of continuing to hunt for us. We know that most of the fleet didn't follow us into FTL. I don’t like the implications.”
“Attacking Hudson Base would embroil most of the galaxy in a war,” Rebecca pointed out.
“Perhaps,” the captain agreed. “All the simulations concur that any such war will be utterly devastating.”
Rebecca nodded. She'd seen some of the simulations herself. If the Tokomak lost their grip on power - which was already weakening - God alone knew how many old grudges would suddenly become important again. Or maybe old grudges wouldn't be necessary. An attack on Hudson Base was an attack on a dozen different powers, even if the Harmonies claimed to be merely fighting a single race. They’d all see it as a de facto declaration of war.
“They must assume they can ride out any retribution,” she said, finally.
She ran her hand through her long hair, feeling thoroughly useless. She was a diplomat, with proper credentials from Sol and a thorough grounding in interstellar diplomacy. She’d been assured that everyone obeyed the rules, even when they were at daggers drawn for the rest of the time. She even held a degree from a university vetted and approved by the Tokomak themselves ...
But the Harmonies had broken the rules and, so far, they’d gotten away with it.
Which goes to prove that the Galactics are very much like us, she thought. They’re neither demons nor angels. Merely ... living beings.
“We shall see,” the captain said. “But right now, Rebecca, we have other problems.”
His intercom bleeped. “Captain,” a voice said. “We have a situation.”
Captain Yasser’s eyes narrowed. “Mr. Callaway,” he said. “This is not the time for Underling’s Inability Descriptive Syndrome. What sort of situation?”
“We’re detecting an enemy warship on a direct course for us,” Callaway said. “She’s actually on a course for UTU-758, Captain, but she’ll pass within a light-day of our position. She may know where we are.”
“Then they should have moved sooner,” the captain said, slowly. “They wouldn't have given us time to make repairs if they knew where we were, would they?”
A slow smile spread across his face. “A single warship?”
“Yes, Captain,” Callaway said. “Judging from her mass readings, I’d say she was a heavy cruiser or a battlecruiser. There aren't any signs that she’s stepped down her drives.”
“I see,” the captain said. “And when will she make her closest approach to us?”
“Two hours, forty minutes,” Callaway said. “Your orders, sir?”
“I’ve just had an idea,” the captain said. He smiled. “Alert the crew. Senior officer’s meeting, ten minutes from now.”
“Aye, Captain,” Callaway said.
Rebecca looked at the captain as he jumped off the bed. “An idea, Elton?”
“Yes,” Captain Yasser said. “One ship, coming in fat and happy. I think we can give her a very nasty surprise.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Then it is obviously our job to teach them otherwise. Yes, many of the Galactics - even the younger ones - see us as ‘uppity humans.’ And they do have a point. It’s been a mere seventy years since we first learned how to build FTL drives for ourselves. We would not even have done that, would we, if we hadn't captured an alien ship.
This isn't the time to whine about being the victims of discrimination, regardless of if that is a valid complaint or not. This is the time to prove to them that we do have a place amongst the stars.
-Solar Datanet, Political Forum (Grand Alliance Thoughts).
“She’s still heading directly towards us,” Callaway reported. “There’s no hint she’s preparing to drop out of FTL.”
Elton nodded, slowly. The Harmonies couldn't have an exact lock on Odyssey’s location or they would have sent a much larger fleet after her. It was much more likely that they’d sent a single warship to UTU-758 in hopes of chasing Odyssey back into interstellar space. Elton had no idea precisely why the Harmonies weren't focusing on Hudson Base - for all he knew, they were focusing on Hudson Base - but the lone ship did offer him a chance to actually get some answers.
And get some payback into the bargain, he thought, grimly. Unless, of course, that lone ship is actually towing several more.
He looked down at the live feed from the analysis department. The analysts - and the RIs assisting them - believed the ship was on her own, but what if they were wrong? Elton had no illusions. The Harmonies had been well aware of how one ship could tow another through FTL long before he’d used the technique himself at Kami. They might easily have decided to take a page out of an ancient tactical manual in hopes of hoisting him on his own petard.
“Activate the gravity trap,” he ordered. “Stand by all weapons.”
“Aye, Captain,” Callaway said. “Gravity trap engaging ... now.”
Elton leaned forward. The stardrive, even a military-grade system, couldn't be used too close to a gravity well. The Tokomak had actually built all kinds of safeguards into the original designs in hopes of preventing an outright disaster, although Elton rather suspected they’d overdone it. Human designers had very little compunctions about allowing warships to drop into FTL as soon as they cleared high orbit. And the Harmonies ...
Either their emergency sensors will pick up the gravity well and crash them out of FTL, he thought, or they’ll run right into the gravity well and get smashed back into realspace.
“Ten seconds,” Callaway said.
“Mr. Wolf reports that the gravity well is putting undue strain on the drive nacelles,” Biscoe said. “Engineering may be unable to hold the gravity field in place without shattering the drive nodes completely.”
“Tell them to hold the well in place for as long as possible,” Elton said. A human ship might just be able to smash its way through choppy gravity fields and escape. The Battle of Earth proved that Tokomak ships couldn’t. But then, they had had five years to modify their drive systems to prevent a second defeat. “They’re to drop it, though, if the system is about to blow.”
“Aye, Captain,” Biscoe said. “I ...”
“Enemy ship is entering the gravity well,” Callaway reported. “Feedback building ...”
A red icon flashed into existence on the display. “Enemy ship has dropped out of FTL,” Callaway added. “Sensors indicate that she’s lost two of her three drive nodes ...”
“Tactical, take out her shield generators and weapons,” Elton ordered. They were alarmingly close to the enemy ship. The crew had had no reason to expect that they’d suddenly be yanked out of FTL and crashed back into normal space, but they might just be alert enough to find Odyssey and open fire. “Communications, hail her and demand surrender.”
“Aye, Captain,” Williams said.
The enemy ship was a battlecruiser, shaped roughly like a crude arrowhead. Elton smiled, coldly, as phaser bursts crashed into her hull. She looked punch-drunk already, heeling over as her sublight drive field flickered in and out of existence. Her crew had to have been taken by surprise, Elton noted. Callaway was systematically wiping her hull clear of any offensive weaponry, yet they hadn't even managed to muster a response to his demand. Had they killed the captain? He wouldn't have thought it possible, but a power surge in the wrong place might just have triggered off a series of catastrophic internal failures.
“Enemy ship has been disarmed,” Callaway said. “Captain?”
“Mr. Williams,” Elton ordered. “Raise them again. Tell them that we will treat their crewmembers in line with the standard protocols, if they surrender now. Their computer files are to be left untouched, along with everything else. That ship is to be handed over to us intact.”
“Or as close to intact as possible,” Callaway said.
Elton shot him a sharp look. “Send the message,” he ordered. “And alert me the moment they reply.”
He waited, impatiently. Major Rhodan and his marines c
ould board the enemy ship, of course, but he was reluctant to do anything of the sort until he knew what sort of reception they’d receive. A maddened enemy, one reluctant to surrender, might just wait long enough for the marines to arrive and then switch off the antimatter containment chambers. He needed the ship, but he also needed the marines.
And they know their government intended to dispose of us and every other inconvenient witness, he thought, grimly. They might expect us to do the same to them.
“Picking up a message,” Williams said. “Captain, it’s a standard interstellar surrender. They have wounded, apparently.”
“Understood,” Elton said. Did he dare send the marines? A starship crew that had no reason to expect mercy - and knew perfectly well that there were no witnesses for five light-years - might try to lure the marines into a kill zone anyway. And yet ... he needed the enemy ship and its records. “Inform them that the marines are on the way.”
The Long Road Home (A Learning Experience Book 4) Page 32