by PJ Strebor
Captain Pitzen didn’t like the tone of his usually unflappable helmsman.
“You will hold fire, helm, until I give the order,” Pitzen growled. “We are here to support Adroit, not to go off half-cocked.”
“But Captain -”
“That’s enough,” Pitzen said, coldly. “If you can’t carry out my orders I will relieve you of duty. Do you want that, Eric?”
“No sir.”
“Very well,” Pitzen said.
***
“WEO, load all tubes with type fifty pulsar heads,” Moe said.
“Yes, Captain,” Lieutenant Applebee said.
What the hell is an E boat doing out this far?
“SMC, magnify forward hollow panels by fifty percent.”
The E boat sprung into sharp focus.
“Captain, we’ll be in torpedo range in three minutes,” Grace reported.
“Very well,” Moe said. So will they.
“Captain,” Applebee said, “all tubes loaded with type fifty pulsar heads.”
“Very well.”
“Captain,” Willet said, from tactical, “the E boat is slowing. Her shields just dropped and her weapons are inactive. That’s weird.”
You’ve got that right, Rudi. What’s he up to?
“Captain,” Grace said, “we’re getting comm from the E boat.”
Really? “Very well, put it through to me.”
Moe keyed her L-M. “This is Captain Bradman. What can I do for you?”
“Well, for a starter I’d be really happy if you didn’t fire at me,” Nathan said.
For a moment Moe was struck dumb. “Nathan?”
“The very same,” he said. “I borrowed an E boat.”
Moe laughed. “Well, of course you did.”
“Just a thought, but you might want to have Odenwald stand down,” Nathan said.
“Shit yes,” Moe said. “I’ll get back to you.” She double clicked her L-M. “Grace, you’ll never guess who’s on the E boat.”
“Nathan?”
“Yep. Contact Odenwald and –”
“Torpedoes inbound,” Willet screamed. “Two high yield pulsar heads.”
Moe swung Adroit about, bow on to the two torpedoes. Someone on Odenwald had panicked and fired at the E boat. Whoever did it was so filled with dread that he did not consider that Adroit would show up on his scans as an enemy warship.
Moe fired a wide spread of pulsar fire and the incoming torpedoes. In the precious seconds she had available she destroyed one, but the other got through her defenses and exploded. A thin silver blue beam struck out and sliced through Adroit. She healed over to port, as alarms wailed.
Over her comm she heard Grace screaming at Odenwald’s skipper. “Captain Pitzen, stand down. We have friendlys on the E boat. Do not fire again.”
“Oh my God,” Pitzen said. “I’m so sorry. My helmsman panicked. Is everyone all right?”
Moe made certain the comm was off. “Fucking square head dumb bastard, dog fucking son of a harlot bitch,” she yelled. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
For months they’d avoided unwarranted combat, to ensure no damage impeded their escape attempt. Now Odenwald had crippled her boat. She took a deep breath to calm her rage before retrieving to the bridge. Unstrapping from her chair she approached her D-O.
“How bad?” she asked Grace.
“The shot tore through the port stealth engine. It’s a through and through. Ripped through the upper carapace and exited via the lower. It’s out of commission until we effect repairs.”
Moe steeled herself for the next question. “Casualties?”
“None,” Grace said. “I guess that’s something.”
Thank God.
“Has the square head freighter stood down?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“By God they’re lucky there are women and kids on her,” Moe said between set teeth.
“They’re civilians, Captain,” Grace said. “We should have expected something like this.”
Moe sighed and tried to calm her rage. “Yeah.”
Congratulations, Captain. Your first combat engagement and you get hit by friendly fire. Now you’re the Captain of a stealth boat that isn’t stealthy.
CHAPTER 63
Date: 8th November, 326 ASC.
Position: Hyper lag time. Three days from the planet Spinney. Northern Quarantine Zone.
Nathan maneuvered the landing boat till it sat only meters from what remained of Adroit’s upper stealth engine carapace. Through the boat’s forward view plate he examined her damage.
“That’s not good.”
“And the master of understatement strikes again,” Moe said.
“It’s a good thing only one of them hit you or things could have been far worse.”
“Yep.” Moe rubbed her chin.
Nathan rolled the boat over, taking note of the pulsar’s exit point through the port stealth engine’s lower carapace. The jagged blades clearly showing how much damage had been done.
“It’s a miracle no one was killed,” Nathan said.
“Yeah, we got lucky. The interior damage is fairly superficial but with this mess we’re vulnerable.”
“Are you sure you recovered everything?”
“I had all three LB’s out for a full day,” Moe said. “They found every last piece of the stealth engine. For all the good it’ll do us.”
“We leave nothing for the square heads to find.” Nathan rubbed at the bump above his right eye. “We could try to repair her.”
“We’d need to make planet-fall to do that.”
Nathan nodded.
“Spinney?” Moe asked.
“It’s only a few days away, and is largely uninhabited.”
“Hmm, might work. Then what?”
“With Saxon out of the picture we should be in the clear.”
“Spinney it is,” Moe said.
CHAPTER 64
Date: 8th November, 326 ASC.
Position: Dortmund spaceport, planet Reynolds, Northern Quarantine Zone.
Not for the first time, Orson heard voices, near but impossibly distant. As he had done every day since his consciousness returned, he tried to open his eyes. It felt as if his eyelids were coated in lead but he got one open. A young nurse stood by his bed, taking his pulse. She blinked when she saw his eye was upon her.
“Hello there, sleepy head,” she said, smiling radiantly.
He tried to speak but his voice croaked.
The nurse gave him a small drink of water and leaned down to hear what he said.
“Now, what did you say?”
“Take my hand,” Orson just managed to say.
“Of course I will.”
He clutched her hand with a fierce will born of desperation and began to feed on her life-force. She writhed as the life bled from her and into his broken body, filling him with her life-giving energy. After a time her hand slipped from his as her emaciated husk collapsed to the floor. Time passed and he got both eyes open. She was too young, too weak to fully renew him, but it was a start. Footsteps, followed by a gasp.
“My God, what did you do to her?”
Orson stared at the doctor. “I want to speak with Captain Coppins.” He gestured to the wasted body. “Get rid of that, and get me another body.”
“What kind of monstrosity are you? She was a young girl for God’s sake.”
“Another one, doctor.”
Sometime later the doctor returned with Coppins and Reinhardt. The two officers looked on as the girl’s body was loaded onto a gurney. Orson noted that Reinhardt walked with a limp.
“Look at what he’s done.” The doctor’s shocked tone irritated Orson. “He murdered her. Then he asks me to get him someone else to murder. What am I going to do?”
“If I were you, doctor,” Reinhardt said, “I’d get him another body.”
“No, I won’t do it,” the doctor said. “I’m taking this to the authorities.”
“Do you have any idea who
this man is?” Reinhardt asked.
“He’s a murderer.”
“Maybe, but he’ll never stand trial and for your sins you’ll have the HRS crawling up your ass.”
The doctor gaped at Reinhardt as if he was less than human.
It took two more feeble volunteers to bring Orson back to normalcy. Two patients with terminal illnesses had barely filled his cup.
With both officers hovering by his bed Orson sat up. “What news of Telford?”
“None,” Reinhardt said. “There’s been zero sightings of him.”
Although weakened by his convalescence he reached out, searching for the man who had come perilously close to ending his life. The effort cause him to nearly pass out, but he located him.
“He’s still heading west. Captain Coppins, we need to get after him. Prepare your boats.”
The two officers looked at one another then back at him.
Coppins shrugged. “There was an incident. We have two working boats and two are still being repaired. We should have all four boats ready for action in two weeks.”
“Incident?”
“Somehow, Telford commandeered E 692 then used it to attack my squadron.”
Orson groaned. “We don’t have two weeks. I want to leave here now.”
Coppins thought about it for a moment. “I suppose we could salvage parts from one to use on the other,” Coppins said. “That would give us a three to one advantage.”
“How soon?” Orson asked.
“I couldn’t see it being done in under five days,” Coppins said.
“You’ve got four. Make it work,” Orson said. “One other thing, Captain. Arrange transport back to Midway for Captain Reinhardt.”
“I can be of use,” Reinhardt said.
“Shut your mouth Reinhardt,” Orson said. “You’re a menace and a hindrance to my mission. I want you gone. See to it Coppins.”
“Yes, sir.”
CHAPTER 65
Date: 12th November, 326 ASC.
Position: Planet Spinney. Northern Quarantine Zone.
The three-ship convoy made the journey to Spinney in three days. Moe brought the boat down to an isolated area two-hundred kilometers from the planet’s largest population center. Scans showed sparse pockets of human activity dotted over the world and no habitation around their landing site. Like the rest of the planet it was mostly meager bush-lands surrounded by vast desert regions.
Nathan and Moe took the rickety wooden ladder and stepped onto Adroit’s port dorsal. The senior engineer and two assistants had pried what remained of the upper carapace away and were examining the damage.
“What do you think, Amos?” Moe asked.
Lt Cmdr Tollini stood and wiped sweat from his face with a clean cloth. “It looks worse than it is, Captain. It’s fixable but not without proper repair facilities.”
Nathan remained silent. Adroit was still Moe’s boat.
“Can’t you improvise something?” Moe asked.
“If this was a normal ship, yes. But a monitor is a very precise instrument. You don’t just patch her back together. I’m going to have to pull the entire assembly out to effect repairs. That will take a proper repair hangar.” He stared at Nathan then back to Moe. “They have to have a spaceport here, right? Perhaps they have repair facilities we could use.”
For the first time Moe looked at Nathan.
“It’s your call, Captain,” Nathan said.
***
Lieutenant Commander Amos Tollini, freshly clad in a Pruessen naval uniform, knew what he needed to repair Adroit’s damage. As the Pruessen landing boat approached the Ridges Spaceport, he doubted that he’d find what he needed on a backwater planet like Spinney. He conceded that it was worth a try. Getting the boat home in her current condition would be asking a lot. Still, Telford had gotten them out of worse jams.
After receiving landing clearance, Commander Ryden set the landing boat down next to the largest structure at the spaceport. Although it showed its age, it was large enough to accommodate Adroit.
Telford winked at him as he made his way aft to the landing boat’s starboard hatch. Ryden followed. Tollini couldn’t believe Telford trusted the Pruessen. Yet they seemed to have formed a working partnership of sorts during their many weeks spent together. A camaraderie of mutual survival, perhaps?
Captain Okuma couldn’t join them. The Pruessen navy had stopped crewing their ships with females after the last war.
The three of them strode into the huge hangar and Amos immediately began checking out the place. He sought out and eventually found the tool store but found it locked.
“Good morning gentlemen,” a voice said from behind, “what can I do for you?”
They turned to find a scruffily dressed man whose smile looked to have been recently lubricated. A shyster if ever Amos had seen one.
“And you are?” Nathan asked.
“The name’s Siegert.” The smile didn’t slip, even for an instant. “I run things around here.”
The Pruessen captain held out his hand. “Commander Ryden, Imperial Navy.” Siegert’s smile remained in place as he shook Ryden’s hand. “We are in need of repair facilities and you appear to have the only one on this world. We want to inspect your tool store.”
“Certainly,” Siegert said. “Out on the edge of nowhere we don’t get much business but will service the needs of anyone who needs it.” His smile widened. “And can pay, of course.” He opened the store and Amos began inspecting the selection of appliances. After ten minutes he’d made his evaluation. He was about to inform Telford when he remembered to address the Pruessen Commander.
“What do you think, Commander?” Ryden asked.
“Most of the equipment is old,” Amos said. “I mean last war old.”
“Yes, it’s old but sturdy,” Siegert said. “This facility was built by the Empire during the last war. It was the Republic then but no matter. We’re so isolated that the war passed us by. The equipment has seen very little use so it’s in top flight condition.”
“Can you make it work, Amos?” Nathan asked.
He thought about it for a few seconds. “I might be able to tinker something together but I’d need to upgrade most of the tech. This gear is ancient.” Even by Pruessen standards.
Siegert’s smile tightened. “I don’t know about tinkering with my equipment, it’s of the highest quality.”
“My chief engineer says it’s shit,” Ryden said. “That’s right isn’t it, Commander?”
“Yes, Captain.”
“He can upgrade your tech so that you’ll be left with a better product. That’s a win for you Siegert.”
Still maintaining his smile the conman mused over the possibilities. “Very well,” he said. “I have a workforce of skilled engineers to take care of your needs.”
“Our people will carry out repairs,” Ryden said. “We only need to rent your facility and its crappy tech for, how long Commander?”
“Two to three weeks, sir.”
“Three weeks,” Ryden finished.
“Very well,” Siegert said, “rental for the hangar and equipment for three weeks will set you back sixty thousand dollars.”
“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Amos blurted.
“No, I’m quite serious. Of course if you think me unreasonable you can always go elsewhere, can’t you?” Amos wanted to beat the smile from the fool’s face.
“You say you’ll deal with anyone?” Nathan asked.
“If they have the money, yes,” said smiley.
“Including the PLF?”
Siegert’s smile tensed. “The Peoples Liberation Front? No, of course not. That’s illegal.”
“Captain, intell reports an increase in PLF activity in this sector. Perhaps what this planet needs is a picket force in orbit and a garrison on the ground. What do you think, sir?”
Tollini hid a smile.
“Why, Lieutenant, that sounds like an excellent idea.” They stared at Siegert with bland ex
pressions. His smile finally melted away.
CHAPTER 66
Date: 20th November, 326 ASC.
Position: Planet Spinney. Northern Quarantine Zone.
Nathan, dressed in civilian clothing, met with Fish outside the hangar. Adroit’s supply officer had acquired a small ground-car for his daily excursions into the nearby town of Ravensthorp.
“Morning, Fish,” Nathan said as he slumped into the passenger seat.
“Mornin’, Skip.”
A quick drive across the tarmac before they struck the dirt road. Apart from his errands, Nathan was curious to see if Siegert was an example of Spinney’s population or the exception. A rough dirt road led to the outskirts of the town where it connected to a sealed stretch running the length of the town.
Although the vehicle was sealed, fine dust found its way into the cab. In the ten minute journey to town both he and fish were covered in fine powdery dust.
Stepping from the car Nathan began dusting himself off.
“Skip?” Fish said. “Try this.”
Slipping a coin into the slot Fish pulled down a short circular tube that covered his body from his head to his waist. He pressed a green button beside the slot and a spray of air blew the dust from his clothing and hair.
Nathan gave it a try, noting that a simple high speed fan had been fixed to the top of the cleaner.
“Clever thinking,” he said.
“Yep, one of the townies put me onto it,” Fish said. “There’s one on every block.”
“I’ll leave you to attend to your work,” Nathan said. He found the general wares store without effort and entered. For his crew to be spotted while in Monitor Corps uniforms could invite unwanted attention. From a limited selection of clothing and footwear he managed to find a sufficient range to outfit the crew’s needs.
He dropped them at the car and continued to wander the streets. Within fifteen minutes he’d covered the length of Ravensthorp but not the breadth. As was the norm for country towns, Ravensthorp boasted a number of hotels. During the workday the town drifted into a drowsy, almost abandoned state. No doubt that would change when the working day ended and farm workers arrived to wash the dust from their parched throats.