by Jake Elwood
He wanted to turn the Bumblebee around, charge back into the fray, hurt them for what they'd done to Spellman and Dante. He couldn't achieve a damned thing, though. Not against amalgamated ships.
If they were pursuing him, he decided, he'd turn around and ram them. Go out with a bang. He glanced down at his cockpit displays.
He was alone. A tap to the screen resized the display, and he saw alien ships clustered around the damaged Gate. They weren't pursuing him.
Hardy felt no relief. A few more minutes of life held little value for him, not when there was nowhere to run, no way to escape the system. Instead, he found himself wondering how he could inflict one last blow before he died.
"There were more Gates," he murmured, and tapped his screen again. "Let me see …"
It didn't take long to find another white triangle. It wasn't even very far away. With any luck, there wouldn't be any alien ships guarding it. After all, the aliens could have intercepted the missiles from the Adamant anywhere along their path. They didn't have to go to the Gate itself.
He turned the Bumblebee and got it pointed at the next Gate, then shot an ugly glance over his shoulder at the Gate he'd just disabled and the Hive ships gathered around it. "You didn't chase me," he muttered. "That was a mistake. You'll regret it."
CHAPTER 16 - HAMMETT
Fire!"
The word had barely left Hammett's lips when he saw the leading Hive ship tremble. It was the biggest craft, the one formed by two amalgamated ships joined together. The resulting misshapen blob twisted sideways, moving out of the path of a follow-up barrage. It lost speed as well, dropping behind the other Hive ships.
"Cease fire." The Theseus had only fired the one volley, but he wanted to make sure no enthusiastic gunner wasted more of their precious ammunition.
"Right, Sir," Hal said, then glanced over his shoulder at Hammett.
"Stop accelerating," Hammett said.
The background vibration of straining engines vanished. He felt as if he was going to pitch forward out of his seat as the pressure of acceleration disappeared. Hammett watched his screen as the Hive ships began to overtake the Theseus. They quickly stopped accelerating, though, and he saw the glow of thrusters as they braked slightly. He grinned. They're scared of us. They think it's a trap.
Both corvettes stopped accelerating as well. They drifted ahead, moving just a bit faster than the Theseus, until they braked one at a time.
"What now, Admiral?"
Hammett looked at Eddie. "See if you can line us up for another shot."
Both pilots nodded and set to work. It quickly became obvious, though, that the aliens understood the restrictions of the big guns. Each time the Theseus came close to lining up on a Hive ship, the alien would edge out of the way.
"We'll save our ammunition," Hammett decided. "Get ready to bring us about and decelerate." They were well past half way to the Gate. They'd be moving very quickly when they arrived. "Signal the corvettes."
"They report ready," Sanjari said.
"Bring us around, Eddie. Maximum burn. Slow us down."
The ship spun on its axis, and Hammett felt the press of acceleration return. Deceleration, technically, but it felt the same. The corvettes matched the Theseus almost perfectly, and the alien ships followed suit an instant later. For a moment the amalgamated ship closest to the Tomahawk overshot the corvette, and Hal moved the Theseus closer, trying for a point-blank volley. The alien braked hard, falling back until it was even with the next alien ship, perhaps sixty meters behind the two corvettes.
"Looks like they're satisfied with running us out of the neighborhood," Sanjari said. "I don't think they want a fight if they can avoid one."
They just need to dither for a few moments longer. Hammett checked his screens. The Gate was coming up fast. The Theseus was losing velocity quickly, but …
"You two will have to do some sharp flying," he said to the pilots. "We need to thread a needle at high velocity."
Neither man responded, but he saw Eddie's shoulders move ever so slightly as the muscles tightened.
"You can do it," Hammett said softly. "You've been flying this thing for years, after all. I wouldn't be trying this if I didn't have complete confidence in both of you."
Sanjari's head moved in the corner of his eye, and he glanced at her. She was looking at him, one eyebrow up, the expression on her face saying, I know you're so full of crap. He grinned and shrugged. Eddie and Hal were pretty good, and the odds of them getting the ship successfully through the Gate were … probably better than even, he decided.
"We need to spread out a bit," Eddie said. "Otherwise we'll crash into each other as we go through."
"I'll signal the Tomahawk," Sanjari said, and lifted a handset.
"We'll go through last," said Hammett.
"Right," said Eddie. "I'm swinging wide."
The Theseus slid sideways, and the engine flare vanished from the trio of alien ships. They seemed to leap forward, converging on the corvettes. Two ships attacked the Tomahawk. The third went for the Sgian Dubh.
"Damn it," said Hammett, "we have to get back-"
The corvettes were already reacting, though, twisting left, then sharp right to hurtle straight at the Gate. Eddie and Hal worked the helm controls together and the Theseus turned, roaring at a column of metal that changed as they approached, becoming a triangle. Hammett caught a quick glimpse of a corvette flashing through the opening and vanishing. Then the triangle seemed to leap at him, and his hands clutched reflexively at the arms of the chair. The Gate went by so quickly that he honestly couldn’t tell if they'd missed it or not.
He twisted around in his chair, then stood and turned in a circle. Empty space surrounded the ship on every side. Then the nose of the ship tilted upward and he saw a star, a vast orb of dark and angry red that filled a good forty degrees of arc through the front window.
"I guess we made it through," Sanjari said.
"Yes," said Hammett, peering through the windows. "But where in hell are those corvettes?" He shook his head. "For that matter, where's the Gate?"
He sat back down, tapping his display screen. Sanjari spoke before he could orient himself. "The Gate's a hundred kilometers that way." She pointed at the deck. "And receding. We came through with quite a lot of sideways velocity."
Hammett's screen showed him a white triangle, rapidly moving away, and a green circle, moving more slowly. There was no sign of alien activity.
"It's the Sgian Dubh," Sanjari said. She looked at Hammett, her face bleak. "The Tomahawk didn't make it."
"No." He wasn't sure if he'd spoken the word aloud. It had the sound of a scream in his mind. No, it can't be true. Not the Tomahawk. Not Kaur, and the rest of the crew. And Captain Harrington and everyone from the Gideon as well.
Not the last, best shot we had at getting home.
"The Sgian Dubh," he said. "Does it have …"
"A wormhole generator?" Sanjari asked. "No."
He wanted to bellow, to bury his face in his hands, to pound the arms of his chair in grief and frustration. His decades of experience were asserting themselves, though, and his voice was even as he issued orders. "Eddie. Match velocities with the Sgian Dubh. Hal, get them on the radio. Tell them we're going back to the Gate. And ask them for a status report."
As both men busied themselves at their consoles, Sanjari murmured, "What do we do now, Sir?"
"We destroy the Gate," he said. "Then we take a good look around and try to figure out where we are. After that … we'll see."
CHAPTER 17 - KAUR
Meena Kaur watched the alien Gate flash past and swore. It was a good curse, too, one thoroughly unbecoming an officer, and she felt her cheeks getting warm. She was suddenly aware of Captain Harrington standing behind her, could almost feel the woman's eyes boring into her back. She's been a captain for ten years. She must think I'm …
Embarrassment was a good distraction from her rising panic, and she felt her dismay recede. Gotta focus on
where I am now, not where I wanted to be. Gotta focus on solutions.
The bridge crew looked thoroughly rattled. That was her first priority, then. She had to calm them down, and that meant keeping them busy, even if she had nothing useful for them to do.
"Benson. Get our nose pointed at that Gate. Keep us lined up. I want us moving in the right direction the instant we get the engines back. Ramirez. Scan for communication traffic. I want to know if there's anyone else alive in this system." Both men looked down at their consoles, and her gaze swept the bridge. "Tolstoy."
The young man standing against the port windows stiffened.
"Run down to the engine room. See what's going on, see if you can help. Organize volunteers from the Gideon if it will help. If Geibelhaus doesn't need you, come back here and give me a report. Go."
Tolstoy nodded and dashed from the bridge.
"Touhami. What's happening at the Gate? Are we being pursued? Did they all follow the Theseus through the Gate?"
Touhami didn't speak, just stared at her, his hands gripping the edge of the console in front of him.
"Touhami," she said again.
All he did was stare. She'd never seen his eyes so wide or his face so pale. He looked stricken, a good man who'd been pushed too far for too long and had reached a point where he couldn't cope. She knew exactly how he felt. She was about a millimeter from joining him in shocked catatonia.
Kaur opened her mouth to say something soothing, then froze. If they survived this, he'd live with the memory of this day for the rest of his life, and she sensed that gentleness on her part would embarrass him deeply. If she told him it was all right and relieved him of duty, it would give him a burden of shame he'd never recover from.
She sneered, instead.
"Whassa matter, Hammy?" She kept her voice hard, sarcastic. "You need me to come over there and give you a hug? Maybe pat you on the head, tell you mama's gonna keep you safe?"
In her peripheral vision she saw Benson and Ramirez gaping at her. She ignored them, keeping her attention on Touhami.
His face went from white to red in an instant, and his hands released the edge of the console. "No." He bit the word off like he was biting through nails. "Ma'am."
"Well, then, scan the area around the Gate. Tell me what the enemy is doing."
He glared at her, then gave her a jerky nod and turned to his console. "Aye aye, Ma'am." He lifted his handset and started calling the ship's spotters.
The handset was too bulky to fit inside his helmet, which put the earpiece several centimeters from his ear and the mouthpiece the same distance from his mouth. It was a design flaw, and Kaur made a mental note to take it up with Spacecom. She had to remind herself she wasn't with Spacecom anymore. Nor was she likely to make it back to Ariadne, or Earth.
One crisis at a time. She glanced at the tac screen on her console. It was just a decoration now, set at an angle so she couldn't even use it to hold up a cup of coffee. How she yearned for functioning electronics! And working implants. She'd be able to-
Touhami said, "We're not being pursued. By the look of it they overshot the Gate by a few kilometers and went back. They're gathering around the Gate now."
And do I hope those ships start disappearing? Part of her did, she realized. And why shouldn't I? I want to live. And I've got two crews to think of. It's not just me.
The clatter of feet drew her attention to the bridge entrance. Tolstoy appeared, looking as if he'd run the whole way from the engine room. "The engines are in pretty bad shape," he said, puffing a bit. "Mr. Geibelhaus says he can probably give you about ten percent thrust, both sides. Or sixty percent thrust on the port side only."
That would be useful if she wanted to tear around in tight circles. Otherwise, not so much.
"He's got some engineering staff from the Gideon already helping out," Tolstoy continued. "It's getting pretty crowded down there." He glanced over his shoulder. "It's pretty crowded everywhere, actually."
Kaur nodded impatiently.
"Anyway, he says the engines could be fixed in a full shipyard. Out here, well …" Tolstoy shrugged.
"I'll need you to be more specific," Kaur said dryly.
Tolstoy squirmed ever so slightly. "Well, he was kind of busy, as you might imagine. But an engineer from the Gideon talked to me. He says the side of the engine casing has a hole in it, and there's damage to the distribution coupling. The casing is fixable. The coupling isn't. Without a new one he says we'll never get above fifty percent balanced."
"All right," Kaur said, then added grudgingly, "Good work."
"Oh!" said Tolstoy.
She waited.
"He says the wormhole generator is bug- er, he says it's malfunctioning. But he thinks the hardware is probably okay. He'll have to re-run the wires to the generator."
Kaur nodded. The engines were aft, and the wormhole generator was in the nose of the ship. If the wires in between were damaged, it would be a relatively minor fix. But the generator used a fantastic amount of power. She'd never get it working without something close to full engine power.
And the only source of replacement couplings was the wreckage of the other corvettes, back in the heart of the asteroid field. Back where the Hive had torn the entire fleet apart. Well, one crisis at a time. "Benson."
"Yes, Ma'am?"
"Are we pointed at that Gate?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
The Gate and the lingering Hive ships were in the same direction as the asteroid field and the remains of the fleet. Every instinct she had told her to keep on fleeing, but there was nothing for her in the deep dark, and nothing for the people who relied on her, except a slow death of starvation.
And if they were going to die—it looked like a certainty, barring some kind of miracle—they might as well die harassing the Hive.
"Tolstoy."
He straightened up.
"Head back to Engineering. Tell Mr. Geibelhaus to give me what thrust he can, as soon as he pleases. It's not urgent. Make sure he understands that. But I want to get us moving."
Tolstoy nodded. "Understood, Ma'am." He hurried out.
Kaur took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Give me strength. If all I can do is die here far from home, let me die with some grace and dignity. And let me blow up one more Hive ship before I go.
"Touhami," she said.
"Yes, Ma'am." He looked sullen, like he would be a long time forgiving her. Well, that was all right. He'd deal with it by busting his ass to be the perfect officer, to show her she'd been wrong. She could live with that.
So could he.
"What's the status of our weapons?"
His head tilted, the habits of a lifetime making him try to check his implants. Then he closed his eyes, thinking. "One working laser battery. All the rail guns are offline. There's a team working on the port gun, though. They hope to have it working soon." He lifted his hands in a half-shrug. "They weren't able to be more precise."
When did he have time to get an update on gun repairs? She let the surprise show on her face, hoping he'd realize he'd impressed her. "Thank you, Mr. Touhami. We need to-"
A light flashed on his console, and she paused while he lifted the handset. "The enemy ships are moving," he said. He murmured briefly into the handset, then put it down. "Most of them are retreating toward the settlement. Four ships are coming this way, though."
She felt a surge of irrational relief. They were pulling back! She would have to follow them, though. She had no choice but to continue on to the battlefield. Without proper engines there was simply nowhere else to go.
First, though, she had to deal with the small matter of four approaching ships.
"Captain Harrington," she snapped.
"Yes, Captain."
Harrington sounded perfectly calm, which irritated Kaur no end. Kaur twisted around in her chair. Harrington stood behind her, hands clasped behind her back, looking serene and unruffled. She's not judging you, Meena. She lost her ship, after all. You st
ill have yours, if barely. You're still the captain here.
"If you please, Captain, could you find me some of your crew? I could use three or four people to run errands."
Harrington was moving before Kaur stopped speaking. She stepped through the bridge entrance, then stopped, her back still visible in the doorway. The corridor outside must have been crowded with refugees, because Harrington was back a moment later, four sailors following her.
"Check both ventral laser turrets," Kaur said, not bothering with introductions. "The one in the nose is fine. I need to know if there's any hope of field-repairing the others. Check all the rail guns as well. Assist in repairs if you can. We're about to need weapons very badly."
The sailors dispersed, and Kaur stared at the front of the bridge, feeling her pulse pound, wondering what in space she was supposed to do next.
"You're doing fine." The words, almost a whisper, came from directly behind her. From Harrington, who was speaking too softly for anyone else to hear. It caught Kaur by surprise, sliding some of the weight from her shoulders. She didn't acknowledge the other captain, didn't turn around. But she felt … better.
The engines started with an audible hum, and the ship trembled. Benson said, "We're still moving away from the Gate, Ma'am. We should reach matching velocities in, let me see, four minutes and a bit. After that we'll start moving closer."
"Right," said Kaur. "Touhami. Status on those approaching ships."
"They were five minutes away when the engines started, Captain. That's assuming they started decelerating in another minute. Now that we're braking they'll reach us sooner." A light flashed, he picked up his handset, listened for a moment, then turned. "They're braking, Ma'am. It's too soon to tell when they'll reach us."
Another curse of dealing with fried electronics. A good tactical computer would have told them to the second. "We'll save our ammunition," she said. The ship had plenty of power, though. "Tell the laser crew to fire at will. They might get lucky."