Strike Battleship Engineers (The Ithis Campaign Book 2)

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Strike Battleship Engineers (The Ithis Campaign Book 2) Page 28

by Shane Lochlann Black


  “I’ll run it a third time,” Curtiss said. Even more of the data changed on the third pass.

  “Malfunction?” Hall offered.

  Yili detached the device from the door and ran a quick series of tests. “Boots fine. All indicators and sensors operational.” She clamped the contacts to her tac suit. “Reads the mass and composition of my suit exactly right. It’s not the equipment.”

  “How can something’s mass change moment by moment?” Petty Officer Maclane asked.

  “It can’t. It’s physically impossible.” Tackett replied.

  “According to the laws of physics in normal space,” Hall added.

  “So, we’re no longer in normal space?”

  “I didn’t say that, Able Crewman.”

  Yili locked the device against the door again and let the same series of tests run in a continuous series, recording the results on her portable data terminal. She began piping the raw data through a series of narrower and narrower filters, looking for patterns that might not be apparent just from the changing numbers.

  “There’s two of them,” she said. “Occupying the same physical space. Check that. There’s three.”

  “Three blast doors in the same place?”

  “The energy signatures are different. The handheld is interpreting that as a change in mass. I don’t think it can convert the alternative wavelengths,” Yili replied. “There are three doors at this physical location, but each are on a different energy frequency.”

  “Is it possible this is some kind of interdimensional phenomenon?” Hall asked. Yili nodded.

  “I think so, gunnery sergeant. I think this confirms our theory about the alien devices we discovered. The energy scattering field operates in multiple dimensions, which is why it is able to freely traverse physical spacetime without the limitations imposed by a four-dimensional universe.”

  “Okay, now you’ve officially left my universe, ma’am,” Tackett replied. “No pun intended.”

  “Well,” Maclane replied. “It’s all conjecture until we’ve got something conclusive. If I know the captain, he’s going to want believable answers.”

  Yili didn’t respond. She was now fully engrossed in the readouts from her device. She sat cross-legged at the base of the enormous door that ostensibly led to the Lethe Deeps underground power systems. The rest of her engineering team watched as she adjusted the handheld scanner, then typed out new filters one by one on her data terminal. Characters and numbers scrolled by. She stopped the process, adjusted, typed, and then ran the analysis again. A few moments later, she stopped the scrolling data, adjusted the handheld scanner and vanished.

  Tessa gasped. Able Crewman Tackett stumbled back and almost fell.

  “Wait!” Hall exclaimed. “Nobody move!” He activated his commlink. “Hall to Curtiss. Come in.”

  A pause.

  “I’m still here, gunnery sergeant. Stand by.”

  Even though Yili knew the blast door was installed in a tunnel made of solid limestone, what she was looking at was either a very convincing illusion, or proof her handheld scanner and quick analysis of the data she had received wasn’t that far off. The very composition of the light around her had changed, and the “blast door” was suspended in mid-air at least 200 feet overhead.

  Curtiss stood on what she could only describe as a membrane of some kind. Far in the distance, she could feel an approaching disturbance, which for some reason was having an effect on her metabolism. The internal medical sensors installed in her tac-suit correctly detected the sudden increase in her heart rate and what was potentially a corresponding decrease in her body temperature, possibly due to subtle changes in the salinity and chemical balance in her blood.

  “Gunnery sergeant, I want you and the rest of the team recording everything I say from this moment until further instructed, acknowledge.”

  “Affirmative, lieutenant. Standing by.”

  “Don’t activate any other devices or scanners. I had a feeling we were going to run into this again at some point. The SRS transmission wavelengths work at localized range as well.”

  Yili’s voice began to modulate. Hall’s commlink indicated intermittent loss of signal strength.

  “Ma’am, we’re starting to lose you. Are you moving?”

  “Negative.”

  “Very well. If your theory is correct, we may be transmitting across rather large distances. You may want to consider remaining at your present coordinates so we will still be able to read you.”

  “Acknowledged. I’m standing on some kind of organic material that resembles internal tissue. There is a palpable heaviness to the atmosphere here, although my tac-suit isn’t registering anything unusual. The gas mixture is identical to the readings we gathered aboard the Dunkerque. There are high concentrations of sulfuric acid and bromine in the atmosphere.”

  Acid, Gunnery Sergeant Hall thought. There was something familiar about that, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

  “I can see structures in the distance that appear to be several miles in height. They look as if they were grown organically, but they have symmetrical shapes and well-defined edges that appear to be the work of machines. Just a moment–”

  The engineering team waited in breathless silence. Thirty seconds passed. Then another thirty seconds passed.

  “Lieutenant Curtiss?” Hall transmitted. “Come in.”

  Another minute passed.

  “Come in lieutenant.”

  The channel thumped. “My apologies, gunnery sergeant. I’ve just experienced some kind of seismic disturbance that was accompanied by a freakish storm of some kind. My tac-suit repelled most of it, but I endured a rainstorm consisting of several different kinds of protein, a thin protoplasm-like compound and bromine crystals. I’ve had to sedate myself to reduce my respiration and heart rate. My metabolism reacted to the disturbance for some reason. My vital signs have returned to normal.”

  “Can you estimate your location?”

  A pause.

  “The sky is overcast, but I will set my heads-up system to gather a star map on all available wavelengths. You’ll have to do the analysis. The portable terminal was not transported here with me. Stand by.”

  Moments later, the information feed from Lieutenant Curtiss’ tac suit connected to Hall’s commlink. He directed the information to the portable terminal and ran the stream through the stellar navigation and analysis program.

  “Ma’am, is there a primary visible in the sky?”

  “Negative. I have no readings on any stars in this system. I must be on the dark side of whatever planet this is.”

  “SNA is showing you are in the Raleo system, ma’am. Second planet.”

  “She flipped a switch and stepped from one star system to the next?” Tackett whispered in an incredulous tone.

  “More importantly, she’s on the planet where the obelisk was first discovered,” Maclane added.

  “Now at least if we want to go to the Raleo system, we know where to start,” Hall replied. He activated his commlink again. “Analysis confirms, ma’am. The star pattern in the sky over your position is only visible from Raleo Two.”

  There was a long pause. “Very well, engineering. Stand by,” Yili said. She began a detailed analysis of all the data she had gathered up to that point, using her scanner to drive the heads-up display in her tac-suit helmet.

  “Acid. Sulfuric acid! That’s it!” Hall exclaimed. “Engineering to Curtiss.”

  “Go ahead, gunnery sergeant,” Yili replied, still running her analysis.

  “Lieutenant Tixia reported an unusual concentration of sulfuric acid when she touched down after the corvette lost power, correct?”

  “That’s affirmative.”

  “What if that acid wasn’t a natural occurrence, ma’am?”

  It hit Maclane and Tackett at almost the same moment. “He’s right!” Tessa said. “We’ve been running mineral and organic composition tests on the soil here for decades. If the ground were
that acidic, Starhaven wouldn’t be able to grow a single plant!”

  “We’ve seen it aboard Dunkerque. We’ve encountered it on Raleo Two and now we’re getting the same readings on Bayone Three,” Hall concluded.

  “Whatever it is, it’s not likely the work of Colonel Atwell or any other humans,” Yili said. “Sulfuric acid isn’t exactly part of a balanced breakfast.”

  Hall smiled. “Shall I include that in our report, ma’am?”

  “Absolutely. Whatever power is down there, it’s being used to maintain some kind of interdimensional energy transmission system. And the key to it is right here on the surface of Raleo Two.”

  Sixty-Six

  “I think Minstrel and T-Hawk Green can get a mission kill on DSS Rigel before the rest of the squadron can target us. Request permission to–”

  “I agree, Rebecca, but it’s too big a risk,” Commander Doverly replied. “Break off. Return to Argent’s defensive envelope and let’s be sure we protect what we’ve achieved so far. We took out six Bearcats. I don’t think Orca will advance beyond our perimeter. They’re going to think twice before launching any more fighters.”

  Captain Islington took a breath to make a second appeal, then noticed more than a few of her bridge officers were listening intently to the conversation. She let her head fall and exhaled carefully. She was standing at the conn, something more than a few of her fellow officers had noted she did when she had a full head of steam. Young captains were occasionally known to have a little tougher time seeing the big picture.

  “Aye, ma’am. Minstrel will rendezvous with Argent in thirty minutes. Islington out.”

  “If it’s any consolation, ma’am, Rigel is veering off. It looks like they’re going to favor discretion for the moment,” Executive Officer Meier said.

  “They’re in with the Sarn, and this is the third attack they’ve launched on us. As much as I’d like to send them home in an ambulance, the commander is right. We won the fight that we needed to win. No sense in proving our point beyond that for now. Helm, lay in a course trailing Tigershark Six Zero’s formation. Report any pursuing contacts. All engines ahead full.”

  “Aye, captain. Helm answering. All ahead full,” Finn replied.

  “I need a moment. Hollis, you have the conn.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Minstrel was the last ship to turn back. After the tangle between DSS Orca’s primary Bearcat fighter squadron and Zony’s hastily assembled flight of Skywatch marines driving Yellowjackets, the enemy carrier’s battle group had apparently decided to hold station well outside of Bayone Three’s approach. They weren’t retreating, but at least they weren’t advancing either.

  Annora Doverly supervised the recovery of her fighter wing even as her rapidly improving force command officer was coordinating the launch of Wildcat squadrons sixteen and eighty-five for medium range combat space patrol. The battleship Argent had taken up a position roughly 1.5 million miles off Bayone Three’s orbital track, where she could respond to threats from either the third or fourth planet in the system and make it clear to Orca’s captain the potential hazards of advancing any further against Captain Hunter’s ground forces. The breakaway group of ships was still hovering just outside surface weapons range near one of Bayone Three’s medium-sized moons, apparently employing the same wait and see tactics as their opponent.

  “Lieutenant, what do you make of this situation?” Commander Doverly asked. Although Zony was managing decon for her fighter and flight suit, she still had her operations commlink and headset attached.

  “Did all of the Bearcats break off?”

  “Affirmative. Their whole battle group is just sitting out there now, two million miles off Bayone Three’s approach. Rigel even withdrew when it looked like Rebecca was about to take out after them. They got a little sloppy about their spacing, and I’m betting they recognize now that Minstrel’s bite is just as serious as its bark.”

  Zony spoke as she hurriedly made her way to the center-deck magneto-lifts. “Standoff.”

  “Looks that way. I wonder if Orca’s doing the calculus on acceptable losses.”

  “Similar to the strategic situation with King Two at Uniform Tango,” Zony said as she punched the deck one controls inside the lift car. “Enemy skippers aren’t picking up on any obvious weaknesses and they don’t want to risk the hardware to see which of their ships gets blown out of space first if they advance.”

  Argent’s signals officer strode on to the bridge just in time to pick up an all-channels hail from another approaching Skywatch ship.

  “Ma’am,” the second watch signals officer held a hand to his headphones. “I have an incoming transmission from the battlecruiser Fury.”

  “For us?”

  “Negative.”

  Zony tapped the young officer on the shoulder and assumed control of his post at Argent’s bridge signals station.

  “On screen.”

  The Pegasus-emblazoned emblem of Jayce Hunter’s ship appeared for just a moment on the main viewer, then was replaced by the commander herself. She didn’t look pleased.

  “Attention unidentified vessels, this is Commander Jayce Hunter leading task force Perseus aboard the cruiser Fury. You are encroaching on a Core colony and threatening Skywatch ground forces. Any attempt to approach Bayone Three orbit will be considered an act of war. You are ordered to power down your weapons and retreat from Core space immediately. Acknowledge by data key only. You have two minutes to comply.”

  “Tactical, what is Fury’s position?” Doverly asked.

  “Just now coming in to LRS range, ma’am,” the marine officer replied. “I have eight contacts bearing one seven one mark nineteen, range 28 million miles on high approach for Bayone Three orbit.”

  “The breakaway ships are right in her path,” Zony said.

  “The standoff isn’t going to hold if she opens up on that squadron,” Doverly replied. “Open a priority secure channel to Fury. Use our repeater at Bayone Four.”

  Zony’s hands moved with blinding speed. “Channel open.”

  “Fury, this is Argent on priority channel. Come in.”

  This time Jayce’s expression was a little less confrontational, but not much. “Acknowledged, Argent.”

  Doverly hesitated a little, noting the clipped inflection of Commander Hunter’s words. She sounded quite a bit like her brother did when he wasn’t in the best of moods. “Jayce, things are a little tense at the moment. Shall we coordinate our maneuvers? We’re holding off DSS Orca’s battle group, and we’ve got nearly a full brigade of marines on the surface along with Komanov, your brother and the 117th combat engineers.”

  “The only thing I’m prepared to coordinate, commander, is the capture or outright destruction of the next enemy captain who mouths off, starting with unidentified contact Whiskey India Five bearing zero two zero.”

  Hunter was talking about the lead ship in the breakaway formation, which Fury’s battle computer had identified hostile across the entire Skywatch data net. Neither Doverly nor Zony were entirely sure what to say. Hunter was obviously more than a little upset about something, and given what the two officers knew about her brother and his idiosyncrasies, talking her down wasn’t going to be easy. The Perseus Task Force was on a furious inbound course at attack speed. Normally, Jason would be available to calm his sister down and would have the rank and authority to order her to stand down if necessary.

  But now, there were no officers aboard Argent with the rank or authority to give Jayce Hunter orders. She had the firepower and the tactical experience to turn the space around Bayone Three into a horrifying bloodbath, and if that was her plan, there really wasn’t anyone in the system to stop her without paying a gruesome price.

  “Jayce, things are under control, at least for the moment. That squadron near Bayone Three’s moon is likely to withdraw to Bayone Four if you establish a combat orbit formation. We’ve already hit Orca’s Bearcat wing and we just about took a bite out of DSS Rigel.” Dov
erly sat tense at Argent’s conn. The best she could do was try to persuade Hunter, but Jason’s sister was just as aggressive, sometimes even more so, than her brother when it came to being outraged about perceived injustices or unwarranted violence. Annora was relatively certain there was more going on than a simple hostile confrontation over a planet, but now wasn’t the time to try and figure out what had set the Perseus commander off. “Let’s see if they want the fight first.”

  Zony looked on with wide eyes. She knew Jayce Hunter by reputation more than by personal acquaintance. She was not a reckless officer, but she certainly wasn’t timid either. Her brother was likely to respond to confrontation with self-assured humor backed up by seemingly limitless strength and confidence. His sister, oddly enough, was usually the one to start off hot-headed and brash, then slow things down. Zony had concluded the only thing that kept the power of their respective personalities from getting out of control was each other. The two officers were naturally competitive, and neither missed a chance to taunt the other, but together, they had an unimaginable force of will.

  They also each had the authority to start and the firepower to finish an interstellar war.

  “Very well, Argent. We will hold fire unless provoked. Perseus vectoring for Bayone Three combat orbit. Notify Captain Islington to report to Commander Flynn aboard Constellation for debriefing in one hour. Fury out.”

  Sixty-Seven

  Jason Hunter had rarely experienced stark disbelief, but now that he was standing in a room that housed at least nine full sized starships, he was gradually admitting to himself despite his travels across the stars, there were some things he just couldn’t accept at face value. The room had a larger volume than the entire Lethe Deeps base, which was impossible by any scientific standard Hunter was acquainted with. It also had gravity, which didn’t do much to explain how the captain could possibly be standing under a sixty-thousand-ton starship suspended 400 feet above the floor.

 

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