Jack Hobbs’ journey from the eighty sixth floor lasted almost ten seconds. As he plummeted past the first dozen floors he caught glimpses, vague impressions of people on the other side of the steel and glass, all safe within their homes – a family at dinner, a young woman lounging on a sofa, a couple in an embrace. All so close but so very, very far. The wind tore at his clothes as he hurtled downwards ever faster, his so recently well ordered world degenerating into a chaotic, jumbled blur. A scream erupted from his lungs as he flailed his arms in desperation, searching in vain for a handhold that wasn’t there. As the ground rushed up to meet him his last conscious acts were to curse St.Clair and then screw shut his eyes.
Eighty six floors above, Sam cleared away the champagne and glasses. By the time he’d finished the first distant sounds of approaching sirens reached their ears.
“Sam, you’d best get cleaned up,” said St.Clair. “Have a shower and burn the clothes. Don’t want any fibers from Hobbs’ suit found on your person. The man’s caused us enough trouble already.”
* * *
The Reaper
“Situation report if you please, Mr. Tully,” said Jacks, appearing on the Reaper’s bridge and standing at Bruno’s side.
“Yes, sir,” said Bruno, checking the nav display. “We are approximately ten hours from our destination. The warp core is stable and there are no fluctuations in the power grid.”
“Power settings?”
“Steady at 95%.”
“Very good,” said Jacks. “Mr. Tully, increase power to 110%.”
“Begging your pardon, sir,” said Tully. “Did you say 110%?”
“Yes, Mr. Tully. I’ve been reading up on the former captain’s logs. The hyper drive fitted to the Reaper is an up-graded version of the normal Rapier. The power couplings and containment field generators are all rated to operate at 120% super-boost for limited periods. She’ll be fine at 110 for an hour or so.”
“Understood, sir.”
Jacks watched as Tully increased power to the core by small increments. First through 100, then 105 and finally up to 110%, the engines continuing to hum peacefully as he did so.
“Power is steady at 110%, sir.”
“Good. You should take the opportunity for some rest before we engage the enemy, Mr. Tully. I’ll look after the flight deck until Mr. Fletcher returns.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Tully, making his way off to the rear.
Jacks surveyed the flight instruments and gave a nod of satisfaction. The vagaries of warp mechanics dictated that the extra fifteen percent would almost double the Reaper’s speed during the allotted period, reducing their transit time by over an hour. If he’d got his calculations right, they should lying in wait by the time their target arrived in system. His tactical advantage absolute, the enemy would have nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.
And then he, Commodore D.R. Jacks, would make Lt. Poulson, the crew of the Artemis and the whole rotten high command dance to his tune.
CHAPTER 18: Gunboat Diplomacy
The Artemis
“Dropping out of super-space in ten seconds,” announced James. “Hold on to your stomachs, everyone.”
Chuck checked that his seat straps were tightened securely and then braced himself for the inevitable. The inevitable what, he wasn’t quite sure.
Cocooned inside your own little bubble of space-time, journeying through super-space was a singularly mundane experience. There was no impression of speed and with no stars to see, there was just an endless, vague expanse of bluish-grey nothingness.
What absolutely wasn’t mundane was making the transition – crossing the barrier between normal and super-space. Nobody quite understood the physics behind the phenomenon but it took its toll on man and vessel alike. And the heavier the vessel, the more dynamic the effect.
The Artemis didn’t just drop out of super-space – she lurched out, shimmying violently as the warp bubble evaporated and she hurtled into normal space. For Chuck it was a stomach churning, gut wrenching experience; it felt like all the organs in his body had suddenly gone walkabout and then decided to take a shortcut home. As Guns Graham had once succinctly commented, ‘I can never be sure if I’m going to throw up or pee in my pants’.
Chuck took a few deep breaths and looked around at the others. Penny looked unperturbed – as she always did – and if Angus and James were any worse for the experience, they hid it well as they busied themselves with the controls of the ship. Only Lt. Commander Savage seemed slightly the worse for wear, one hand clamped across his mouth and a pained expression on his face. Like Chuck, he availed himself of a few deep breaths and soon regained his composure.
“What’s our status?” he asked.
“We’re right on the button,” said James. “Lyra is dead ahead, distance half a million kilometers. The target is on the far side of the planet. Time to intercept… approximately thirty minutes.”
“Very good,” said Savage. “Engage the sub light engines and take us in.”
* * *
Drifting in the void between the inner and outer planets of the Arcadia system, the Reaper lay in wait. With almost no energy radiating from her superstructure she’d be safe from all but the sharpest of prying eyes – just one more lifeless object among many.
On arriving in-system, Jacks had maneuvered the Reaper behind the comet Hellion and then brought the ship to a halt, allowing the comet to recede into the distance. Only two of the Reaper’s systems were now operating. One was life support, which was running on minimum settings, and the other was the passive sensor array. Calibrated to pick up emissions from other vessels, the sensor screen was blank except for an icon indicating a large transport in orbit around Lyra.
Since the Reaper’s arrival, the freighter had been in constant communication with the colony below, Jacks, Fletcher and Tully listening in silence as the transport’s captain implored the administrator of the facility to begin evacuation while there was still time. The captain’s argument had been powerful and compelling, but to no avail. The administrator had remained steadfast, refusing all offers of aid.
‘But surely the women and children? The old? The infirm?’ entreated the captain.
‘We arrived in this place together and we will meet our fate together,’ the administrator had replied. ‘What lies ahead is God’s will. We are in His hands and we shall fear no evil. And now, if you will excuse me, I must return to my prayers.’
“Lunatics,” said Fletcher. “Raving, bloody lunatics. They’re just going to sit there, wait for the comet to hit and… pray?”
“Such absolute faith in the metaphysical…” said Jacks in disbelief. “I find it curiously fascinating, almost uplifting. It would be inspirational if it wasn’t so pathetic. Their fate isn’t in God’s hands... It’s in mine.”
Unless we’re about to become instruments of the almighty, thought Tully. Wouldn’t that be the ultimate irony? His train of thought was interrupted as a fresh contact appeared on his scope.
“Sir, we have a vessel approaching from behind Lyra… It’s the Artemis.”
“Excellent,” said Jacks. “Right on time, just like the good little boy scouts they are. We’ll hold position and stay off the radar until they rendezvous with the comet. Then we’ll make our move.”
“It doesn’t look a very hospitable place, does it?” said James as the Artemis skirted Lyra. A single, almost uniformly orange continent floated in a vast ocean of green water, bands of nebulous pink clouds scudding forlornly across the upper atmosphere.
“No, it certainly doesn’t,” said Savage. “No vegetation, no free oxygen… the only things going for it are the climate and a few fledgling amino acids. I suppose that given a few million years some primitive forms of algae will begin to evolve, and then it’s just a matter of time. A good supply of algae will really kick-start things – pump some oxygen into the atmosphere and precipitate all the iron out of the oceans – that’s why they’re green, by the way. Then you just let Mother Nat
ure do her thing. Another billion years and Lyra could be yet another paradise among the stars… However, if we don’t get to work that colony won’t have another tomorrow, let alone a billion years.”
“Captain, I’m picking up a sub-space signal from headquarters,” said Penny. “It’s text only. I think you’d better take a look.”
“What do you have?” asked Savage, walking over to Penny’s station to read through the message on the screen.
From: Commander in Chief, Fleet Science Directorate.
To: Science vessel Artemis.
Authorization:PQZ968
Message: Be advised hostile scout class vessel is expected your vicinity, time stamp 2378-14.
Frigate Temujin dispatched to area to support SV Artemis rescue operations. Projected ETA 2378-15.
Orders:
i) Completion of primary mission remains paramount.
ii) If threatened by hostile forces you are authorized to evade at your discretion.
Message ends.
Savage read through the orders once again. They were short, to the point, and as vague as you like. They amounted to ‘Remain on station but retire if you must’. Brilliant.
“Do we have a problem?” asked Chuck, noting the expression on the captain’s face.
“Maybe,” said Savage slowly. “Looks like we’re going to have company. A hostile vessel is expected in our vicinity within the hour.”
“A hostile? What kind of hostile?” asked James.
“Scout class, according to intel. Some kind of raider, I imagine. If necessary we’re to evade until help arrives.”
“And how long’s that likely to take?”
“A couple of hours. They’re sending a frigate to support us.”
“Evasion works for me,” said Chuck.
“Me too,” said James. “But we won’t be jumping to super-space until the core has reinitialized and that will take at least another half hour. Where does that leave us? Do we reverse course and head for the hills?”
“We could,” said Penny. “But we have no idea of the threat axis. We could be flying straight into trouble.”
“Ensign Parker is correct,” said Savage. “We don’t have enough data to make an informed decision. And apart from that, the message is quite clear – our primary mission stands, and I don’t need to remind you that we are already on a tight schedule.”
He looked from the message on the screen to the surface of the planet below. Somewhere down there were eight thousand souls who were praying to whatever god they believed in that the Artemis would arrive in time to save them. For the thousandth time, Savage reminded himself that he wasn’t a line officer. He knew it in his heart… but he also knew that he couldn’t just leave eight thousand people to die in a fireball while he ran away – and maybe in the wrong direction at that. How big a mistake would that be to live with for the rest of his life? His conscience won the day.
“Instruct the AI to take us alongside Hellion,” he said finally. “If fleet intel is correct we still have almost an hour before the hostile arrives. We’ll rendezvous with Hellion, carry out a detailed scan and work out a firing solution for the laser. Once we’ve done that we’ll have a better idea of how much time we’ll need to move the comet onto a safe trajectory. And then we can think about our next move.”
“Aye-aye, sir,” said James.
“And Penny,” said Savage, “Signal the Science Directorate. Inform them we’re on station and have received their message. And then ask if they have any further information on that damned hostile.”
“The target has come about and rendezvoused with the comet,” said Tully from his seat at the tactical station. “Have to say that was one slick maneuver for a ship that large.”
“It’s just the AI at work,” said Jacks dismissively. “If they follow procedure they’ll scan the target before bringing their deflection systems online.”
“I’m picking up some back scatter now,” said Tully. “They appear to be scanning the object’s surface.”
“Very good, Mr. Tully. Keep an eye on them and let me know when they’ve finished their scans. That will be our signal to commence operations.”
Fifteen minutes later Bruno watched the trace disappear from his screen.
“They have stopped scanning, sir.”
“Understood,” said Jacks. “Ready, everyone?”
Fletcher and Tully nodded.
“It’s time to announce ourselves. Mr. Fletcher, power up the grid and bring the engines online. Mr. Tully, open the gun-ports and power up the weapons.”
“Ready to move, sir,” said Fletcher.
“Take us in, Mr. Fletcher. Put us a couple of kilometers off their port beam.”
“The scans are complete and Val is evaluating the data,” said Angus. “We’ll have the results in a matter of seconds.”
“Very good,” said Savage.
“Sir,” said Penny. “I’ve received a reply from headquarters…”
“About the hostile?”
“Yes. They say it’s a heavily armed merchantman, believed to be commanded by… oh my…” She paused and looked over at Chuck.
“What is it, Ensign?”
“They say it’s Commodore Jacks...”
“What ?” said Chuck, a look of horror appearing on his face.
“Commodore Jacks?” asked Savage. “The one who–”
“We’ve got to get out of here,” said Chuck. “Like, right now.”
“We can’t,” said James. “The comet… and in any case, the warp core still needs another ten or fifteen minutes to initialize.”
“Just to complicate matters, I’ve got the results from the scans,” said Angus. “We need to start the laser burn within the next hour if we want to prevent Hellion from impacting the planet. Any later than that…” He let the words hang in the air.
“I’m afraid it just keeps on getting worse,” said James uneasily. “We’ve got a vessel coming up fast from dead astern. Looks very much like our armed merchantman.”
“Any chance of outrunning it?” asked Penny.
“Not a hope in hell,” said James.
“Can’t we make a fight of it? We have the rail gun and our laser would chop a ship like that clean in two.”
“Only if it very obligingly flew straight across our sights,” said Chuck. “I don’t expect Jacks to be that stupid.”
“In that case the only thing left to try is negotiation,” said Savage.
“I don’t think Jacks goes in for negotiation,” said Chuck. “Except maybe with a heavy caliber weapon…”
“We can but try. Open a channel.”
“No need, sir,” said Penny. “We are being hailed.”
“Science vessel Artemis. This is Commodore Jacks of the Reaper. Surrender your vessel immediately and prepare to be boarded.” The message was blunt, the voice cold and calculating.
“This is Lieutenant Commander Savage of the Artemis. Be advised we are on an urgent rescue mission and that a frigate is on its way to support operations. We request you stand down.”
“Your message received, Artemis,” replied Jacks. “Stand by.”
“We are off the target’s beam sir. Range two kilometers.”
“Very good, Mr. Fletcher. Turn the ship towards the target.”
“Aye-aye, sir.”
“Weapons free, Mr. Tully. Select the rotary cannon and target their rail gun housing,” said Jacks, indicating a point half way down the length of the Artemis. “Fifty rounds should do it.”
“The target is locked,” said Tully.
“Fire.”
The fifty explosive shells erupted from the gun barrels with a loud ‘BRAAAAP’. Covering the distance between the ships in less than two seconds they hacked through the rail gun housing, shredding the ammunition feed and reducing the breech mechanism to a mangled ruin.
“Reaper to Artemis. I take it you copied our last message?” said Jacks tersely.
“So much for negotiation,” murmured Chuc
k.
“Gunboat diplomacy,” said James. “The rail gun is off-line.”
“Off-line?” said Angus. “Look at the camera feed. The breech has been blasted clean off the rails. It’s hanging off the underside of the hull.”
“This is your final warning,” said Jacks. “Surrender your vessel immediately and prepare to be boarded. Be advised our next salvo will be targeted against your laser array. You have exactly one minute to comply.”
“If anyone has any ideas, now would seem to be the time,” said James, looking from face to face. His gaze finally came to rest on Chuck, whose face had by now lost all of its color.
“We do what he says,” said Chuck in resignation.
“I’m sorry, everyone,” said Savage heavily. “I agree. I don’t think we have any choice. If they take out the laser…”
“And they will,” said Chuck. “Believe me, they will, and then the people down on the planet will die. And probably us too.”
Savage thumbed the com switch. “Artemis to Reaper. We are disengaging the security locks. You are cleared to dock at Airlock 1.”
CHAPTER 19: The Supreme Sacrifice
Savage and the rest of the crew were lined up outside Airlock 1 as the door swished open to reveal Commodore Jacks standing imperiously before them. Dressed in a set of plain battle fatigues, he was flanked by Fletcher and Tully, both of whom were decked out in full combat armor and carrying Mk.7 plasma rifles.
“Sorry to barge in like this,” said Commodore Jacks cordially, “But when I learned that my old friend Sub-Captain Poulson – oh, I do beg your pardon, Lieutenant Poulson – was on board, I felt the sudden, irresistible urge to drop by and say hello. And Miss Parker too – and you an ensign. What a pleasant surprise! Just like old times, don’t you think?” Penny gave Jacks a look of contempt. Chuck just stared at the floor.
“I must protest,” said Savage, looking warily at the two armed soldiers. “We are on a rescue mission and any interference on your part could cost the lives of thousands of innocent people.”
The Blunt End of Oblivion (The Blunt End Series, Book 2) Page 28