The Resolute

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The Resolute Page 32

by G. Weldon Tucker


  Future fiancé? She held in the retort, saying, calmly, “I do not eat to grow. I eat to be strong and have a strong mind. Come work out with me, old man, let’s see if you need to eat more! I work out at two this afternoon. Think you might meet me at the gym?”

  “Well, by Chips, you are on! I can handle any challenge you got! Come on Jack, let’s show the little lady what we are made of! Two o’clock. Looking forward to it!”

  Jack reluctantly agreed. He did not work out as much as he should, and he did not need the gravity workouts, because he was planet-side every week for two to three days at a time. But I’ve been called, step up or fold.

  “I don’t have any workout…”

  Hope was hardly two hundred miles away, and Featherstone spoke up, “Chips, copy?”

  Right through Spook, startling the hell out of Angela, Chips returned the call. “Yes, Captain Featherstone?”

  “Tell Mac to find some of his workout wear and mine, and sent them to Resolute at the forward workout station, well before two today.”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  “He… it… spoke through… Spook? Is my independent system compromised?” Without waiting for their explanation or excuse, and just a little bit pissed, she commanded, “System check, now!”

  Spook’s voice, soothing, unemotional, responded, “One moment, Commander.”

  Feathers was chuckling. He understood her concern, all Captains have to guard their systems jealously. “All of the fleet has Chips resident in some corner, hon. In a big battle, there is no time for a single system to try to handshake. This way, Chips runs the battle and the results are much better. We mostly come out alive. So the story goes. I understand you two had your first taste of battle a few months ago?”

  Angela purposefully held her response until she heard from Spook. “Commander, system check complete. All systems are in the green!”

  Jack handled this one. “My first battle, yes, Feathers. This tough little lady has survived several before she brought the Resolute home.”

  “Was that those Zephroan things, whatever they are?”

  She had calmed, dramatically. Their argument made perfect sense, and it had checked in the green. “Yes, but we still do not know what or who they might be. We were told by a friendly species called Tal’Ken that these were probably ninety nine point nine percent robotic. Probably not Cyborg, though we cannot understand why their ships are so big.”

  “Well, if they eat giant rocks, or metal of all types, they must be storing it for energy purposes. Or, maybe the Zephroan have to report back to a home planet and make deliveries. That might explain the size. You never had life form readings?”

  Angela shook her head, slightly, saying, “Not enough to matter on either of them. Our Friend, as we call him, also told us this planetary system was way too far out of their areas to even notice. Still, it was the Tal’Ken who took us to over seven times the speed of light and shot us like a spear at Renewal. So, they know we are here, maybe the Zephroan followed us in. I hope not.”

  The conversation soon centered around the latest updates to Spook, the ongoing refitting for everything from engines to vid upgrades, food to air handling. A few hours passed quickly.

  Feathers groaned, grinning, “I hear a chime. Oh, crap, it is almost two. The clothing should be ready. Come on, folks, here is your chance to show up this old timer!”

  The three arose from the table and their coffees, and headed out, Feathers continuing the teasing, “Bet you can’t keep up with her, Jack!” He was chuckling again as he clapped the younger man on the shoulder.

  But, he did not say the same about himself. With age comes wisdom…

  -----

  It was his last chuckle. On the third time that she overtook him, and the first time she lapped Jack, they were losing their sense of humor. She slowed down, parallel running with the nearly winded Jack.

  “You must not workout as much, Captain,” she observed. He was sweating. And damn it, he still looked good. Sweat soaked his T-shirt, the crevice of his well-muscled butt, and his hair.

  And frankly, he smells pretty damned good! I did not expect that! Be still, crazy heart!

  “No, but I think I better pick it up, again. I see that I may well get killed in the sack by your stamina.”

  “That is pretty presumptuous of you, Captain, but you are probably right,” she agreed, smiling widely.

  Just then, they came upon Feathers, who was sitting by the light post that signified the door out. “I am beat. You might be small, girl, but you got a damn strong body. Makes this old man sorry he is so old. I’d give ol’ Jack here a run for his money!”

  They had stopped, Jack, for one, glad of it.

  “Oh, you two! I work out every day. I run two g’s, so I had the edge. I cannot afford to fail at a critical point. I notice that when in a firefight, ol’ Jack, here,” and she popped his hard butt, making him jump, “sits on his ass and calls the shots. I do that part of the time, other times I pitch in on the back and forth stuff. Gotta stay fit!”

  Jack laughed, saying, “Well, point me to the showers, girl. I gotta head back to Accoster, soon. We are accompanying you guys this afternoon, a security detail. I need a nap.”

  They all had a good laugh as they stepped out of the squirrel cage and picked up their towels.

  ‘Little’ Angela was wearing a faint smile, feeling just a bit smug…

  -----

  An hour or so later, Angela walked into her bridge to the call, “Captain on deck!”

  “As you were,” she called back, returning the salutes. She saw that the Captain’s chair had been upgraded to what they called a suite. There was still her favorite chair, but there were now two more, slightly smaller seats, matching, tucked in behind hers. The front desk was moved out slightly onto the bridge floor.

  She sat down, finding too many straps. These were far more confusing, many crisscrossing her lap, just below her knees, over her shoulders and there was even a tethered loop for her head. But she had seen much of this on Jack’s ship and managed. However, the head strap was new.

  Some of the indicators had changed on her battle screen, which now tilted up so that with her head strap on, she could still see the screen very well. Everything seemed clearer, crisper. Better resolution. That was nice.

  A voice from behind her, “Okay, Captain, I want you to first make sure nothing is in front of you, or likely to be in front of you in the next hour.” Feathers had slipped in behind her from the aft door behind the seats. “You are going to do what you normally do, but listen to your Radar girl. You won’t need to wear the head strap until in an acceleration or deceleration action. Or, of course, in battle.”

  Nance was at the Radar station, intrigued by what they were about to do. In the alternate bridge, several decks down, all of the other bridge crew were gathered at similar stations, watching, but not participating. Nance had been forewarned, even up-trained, so she would not panic.

  Commander Rogers was handling the bridge, and awaiting orders from Captain Washington.

  “Radar, scan forward, now.”

  A moment, then, “Nothing, Captain, out to fifty-five thousand miles.”

  “Radar one forward only, hard band radar!”

  Another moment. “Nothing out there for three million miles, Captain.” Her voice remained calm, cool, professional. Inside, she was beaming. This would shock these bridge officers.

  Angela made her repeat the last report. Three million… miles. Wow!

  “Hold up, Captain,” Feathers said. Then, he spoke up, “System forward scan, full check, now.”

  “Yes commander, nothing in front of us for six million miles, commander.”

  Angela was stunned. What an improvement!

  “Now, for most duties, Radar is fine. For long distance and speedy reports, nothing can touch the system. The least blip the size of your fist will be caught and reported. Chips has nothing to do with it, it is Spook’s upgrade.”

  She managed
to speak, finally, “Good … grief. That is… amazing.”

  He merely nodded, behind her, pleased he could affect her. “Okay, Captain, shortly, you will get underway. You’ll do as you normally would to develop speed. Fast as you can, and I will tell you when to let up. Bridge, put on your head straps quickly. System announce acceleration procedures!”

  This allowed anyone on board to find a chair and get secured. Angela slipped the strap on and snugged it across her forehead, just over her ears and on the backside of her head over her hair.

  The announcement followed.

  Feathers waited a few extra moments to give them time. In his ship, Hope, he allowed thirty seconds. He was not sure about Resolute. “Radar, Commander Rogers, use what you have to measure time and distance.”

  Both replied, “Yes, Captain,” at the same time and grinned at each other.

  Angela was listening, learning, but only minimally prepared for the surprises that would occur this trip out from Renewal. Breathless, she could hardly wait…

  CHAPTER 14

  They were orbiting Renewal at sixteen thousand miles an hour, holding a stationary orbit velocity to keep them in position over Capitol City.

  “Increase power forward fifty percent, Commander.” This was normally done to avoid upsetting the shopkeepers, who had to lay heavy tarps across all shelving and lower the polycarbonate lids on tables. Most of them had automatic devices, some did not. She was about to learn that something automatic, and a lot faster, was going to be necessary.

  The order was relayed to the Pilot, only a Lieutenant, a young man in his late twenties, but one who had aced every video simulator ever made. Just like Angela. He had served Pilot duty for most of this last year, so he knew what he was doing.

  The big vessel surged under Angela’s bottom, shoving her against her backrest, and she knew immediately this was not the slow plough horse of yesterday. She realized that in battle, from an apparent standstill to full velocity was going catch a lot of people by surprise.

  The Pilot grinned, his back tight against his own safety chair, his hands gripping the wheel, though that was a misnomer. It was merely a brace and gave him access to about forty buttons embedded on the outside of that wheel. And, as the ship grew faster and faster, one could almost measure the speed increase by the size of the Pilot’s eyes. And he was not alone.

  Radar called out, a measured one minute cadence, “One light speed… one point three, one point nine… my God, two point six, three point nine, four point seven, the range on the digital meter now ends at ten, Captain. Five point one four, Captain, and holding.”

  “Time, Commander,” Feathers asked.

  Rogers, looking very impressed, announced, “Six minutes, Captain.”

  And then lost his smug smile, for Feathers came back, “How long to one light speed, Commander.”

  “I… I was not measuring it in stages, Sir.”

  “Commander, how do you expect to handle your ship if you do not know the exact amount of time that it takes to get to each point!”

  Radar replied, helpfully, pulling Rogers out of the heat, “One point two minutes to light speed, two point nine to two light speed, four point one to three light speed, then five point two to four light speed, and six point one to five plus light speed.”

  “I am impressed. People like that can save your ass, Commander Rogers.”

  Radar beamed, her body masking the simple spreadsheet she had installed only an hour before the flight. She knew they would be tested, but was not sure how.

  Feathers added one more thing, “Remember, that was ahead half. If you do full, you had better all be in those chairs or someone will get hurt. I suggest everyone work from a chair, and not on your feet. Being able to dash away will save this ship many times over, but not if you are killing everyone on it to get there. Captain, you will learn to work with your head strap in your hand, like an old fashioned ball cap. You may have only seconds to get it in place.”

  “I am… more than… impressed,” Angela said, softly. In fact, she was sort of stunned. How on earth could several million tons of ship…

  “STOP!” yelled Feathers, slapping a hand on her Angela’s shoulder, startling her so bad she almost wet herself!

  “ALL STOP REVERSE FULL, NOW!” cried Captain Washington, immediately.

  Spook replied, right on the last of her order, “WARNING ALL STOP!” and Angela was slammed forward into her harness, hard, as the big ship went from five times light speed to one light speed in three minutes. The strap worked, or she never would have been able to keep her head on her shoulders, let alone under control! As it was, the battle screen dimmed in fuzzy view, so she gave up and shut her eyes tight. She was holding her breath, pushing against the blood flow, just to be sure. Small exhalations, small inhalations, still, she almost blacked out. The pressure eased, then, just as she managed to breathe, it hit again.

  From five light speed to one was almost two minutes. Then, from one light speed to nearly a standstill was less than a minute. Of course, in space, everything orbits something. A true standstill would cause Resolute to immediately begin the process of being pulled down to whatever was at the center of their space at the moment, probably the Sun. Orbiting at forty thousand miles an hour was still considered a standstill.

  Feathers asked for time and distance, and Commander Rogers dutifully requested the information from Nance. She read off the stats.

  “My… God,” Angela said, breathless. “System, damage report, injury report, now.” She fully expected a terrible report of both.

  “There won’t be any, Captain. Except for the bridge crew, the rest of your men and women, and the passengers, are in special chairs that swivel. The weight is canted slightly to the butt, and when going forward, whatever acceleration, the chair locks in the forward facing direction. When you slam on the brakes, or have to decelerate, the chair automatically and immediately swivels to face backward, and they are held in their chair, safe and sound, all over again. No matter your bearing, your turn, whatever, the chair automatically follows.”

  She realized this could not happen on the bridge. No one could drive the ship or fight battles, swinging one way or the other. Hence the front straps and headstrap for each member in a battle seat.

  In a moment, Jack came on the front vid, saying, “Damn girl, that old crate can fly. And I cannot see you at all. You went the whole distance under complete stealth. I am not seeing you in any scan, or camera.”

  Angela replied, dangerously calm, “Then how did you know you would not run over us?”

  “Ummm, the giant flashing red light on your ass end, honey. A beacon for half a million miles. The system would have cut it in an attack, but it pulled us right in.”

  “Shit. Sorry, Jack. I … over reacted. This is just so new. Cool stuff, no doubt. It will take some getting used to.”

  “Not done yet, honey,” growled Feathers. “System, about face!”

  Angela had to grasp her chair in near panic as nearly twelve miles of ship swapped end for end, and rather than the hour as expected, it was under a minute! The g’s were high, but short lived. “Good God, it… does dance!” she managed, hoping not to lose her lunch.

  “System about face, overhead, now!”

  Resolute swapped ends, again, nose up and over, bottom under and then righted itself as it settled. Of course, in space, there is no up and down, but the system kept a relative concept in mind.

  Now she was truly about to embarrass herself. “Stop. I get it… Let me get my wits back,” Angela growled. “That will take some getting used to.”

  “Of course, the nose, here, and the aft end took the brunt of that turn around, either way, delivering four and a half g’s to the residents. The middle section, almost eight miles long, hardly felt it.”

  “Do I need a system check?”

  “You might,” Jack said, with a chuckle. “I volunteer!”

  “You snooze, you lose, Jack,” Feathers called through the system, clapping
Angela on the shoulder.

  “Stop it, you two! I am not a bone for the big dogs to fight over!” Angela growled, still feeling a bit overwhelmed.

  “Hey, just kidding, Captain,” said Feathers, more seriously. “You would kill me pretty easy in the attempt. I better leave you for the younger ones!”

  She flamed red, and growled, “Can we get on with this?” She was, however, quietly proud that Jack did not jump in and embarrass her farther.

  Feathers went right back to work. “Okay, targets. Captain Calmone, you got the balloons?”

  “Yes, I am out two million miles. About the limit of the normal viewer, right?”

  “For accuracy, yes,” replied Feathers. “Deploy sixteen in a line of fifty thousand miles, but different levels in relation to us, as we discussed.”

  “We are on it. Come on wing, time to show our stuff!”

  The forward video showed nothing at all for a few minutes. Then, at the left edge, midway down, a single flashing bogy in red. In a minute more, another a few inches in, but well above the first. As Angela watched, the bogeys seemed all over the place, although the range was a steady two million miles. Unbelievable! And a hell of a lot better than we came in with! she thought, pleased.

  “Captain, I want you to take out every other one when I give the word. I suggest you use the system.”

  Accoster, are you and your wing clear?” asked Angela, aware of range rules.

  “Yes, fire when ready, Captain!”

  “System. See sixteen bogeys in front of us. Choose all of the odd numbered and remove them, now.”

  The flashes of brilliant laser showed through on the front vid as mere flickers in just seconds. They were not truly visible, but the cameras always picked up the energy field.

  “Commander Rogers, how long to clearance from the first firing?”

  He looked a bit skeptical, but forwarded the question to Nance. She said, “Four and a half seconds, Commander.”

  He repeated it, unnecessarily, but he was proving his position. Every other bogey was gone. At two million miles! Angela was stunned.

  Feathers said, calmly, “System remove all forward bogeys, now!”

 

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