Border Worlds (United Star Systems Book 1)

by J Malcolm Patrick

  Border Worlds

  Book one of the United Star Systems series

  J. Malcolm Patrick

  © 2017

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  J. MALCOLM PATRICK.COM

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1 – Starship Down

  Chapter 2 – Patrick Rayne

  Chapter 3 - Inquisition

  Chapter 4 – Your Mission Aaron

  Chapter 5 – The Un-dynamic Duo

  Chapter 6 – Honor Above Loyalty

  Chapter 7 - Santiago

  Chapter 8 – Journey to Rigel

  Chapter 9 – Fight Lee Fight

  Chapter 10 – Brutus Bannon

  Chapter 11 – Phoenix

  Chapter 12 – Spy Games

  Chapter 13 – Honor Guide Us

  Chapter 14 – No Shenanigans!

  Chapter 15 – Shenanigans!

  Chapter 16 – Article 39

  Chapter 17 – Mission given, Mission accomplished

  Chapter 18 – Separatists

  Chapter 19 – Fates of Many

  Chapter 20 – You Were Deceived

  Chapter 21 – Opposing Force

  Chapter 22 – Proud Mother

  Chapter 23 – Fight—And Run

  Chapter 24 – Surrender

  Chapter 25 – Fortune Favors the Bold

  Chapter 26 – 70 Years of Peace

  Chapter 27 – Excalibur

  Chapter 28 – Define Irony

  Chapter 29 – You’re Not Dead Yet

  Chapter 30 – This Madness Ends

  Chapter 31 – No One Lives Forever

  Chapter 1 – Starship Down

  Orion System

  United Star Systems Fleet Ship: Trident

  Year: 2475

  Three hours had dragged by since the distress call.

  The first hour filled Commander Aaron Rayne with hope. Trident was less than three light-years away—this time they would arrive in time to make a difference. The second hour, he paced the length of Trident’s bridge as she burned through the void at maximum warp speed. Maybe the faster he paced, the faster the ship would arrive—it was wishful thinking.

  The final hour, a sense of hollowness rose inside him each time he replayed the end of the distress call from the freighter . . . “If anyone is out there—help us!”

  If he felt this helpless, he couldn’t quite imagine the despair tormenting the crew and passengers aboard the freighter. By now, the raider had jammed the freighter’s comms, and its captain had no way of knowing help was on the way.

  Minutes ago, Trident transitioned from warp and entered Orion, receiving sensor telemetry from the powerful sensor relay throughout the system. The freighter was on scan at the far side of the system. Sensors showed it was intact but adrift. There was no sign of the raider. Under maximum sub-light burn, it would take another two hours to reach and assist the crippled vessel.

  Aaron slipped away from the bridge into his ready room, needing a brief respite to change his soaked uniform. He pulled the grey long sleeve tunic over his head and sighed. Since receiving the distress call, the conclusions of a United Fleet review into Trident’s last encounter distracted him. Although a success, some in the chain of command questioned his tactics . . . reckless, total disregard for basic regulations, the belief he is always right and doing the right thing in his view, justifies his actions. One day, he will get himself and his crew killed.

  Reckless, how was he reckless? Before he could reflect further on the absurd and typical armchair general remarks, the deck lurched beneath his feet. He reached out to steady himself. The pulsing red hue of the alert light gave his pale skin an odd glow.

  The ship was under attack.

  He flipped on a fresh tunic and bolted for the exit. The hatch almost didn’t part. His heavy boot heels pounded the deck as he stormed onto the bridge. He’d been gone less than three minutes. Trident had detected no other contacts in system. Who could be attacking?

  His XO and senior operations officer Lieutenant Commander Avery ‘Vee’ Alvarez looked up and moved towards him. They stepped down the slope along the deck towards the tactical station. Alvarez reported as he fell into step.

  “Two contacts, Commander, bearing zero-three-zero mark zero-six-one. Still piecing it together now. They appeared from nowhere. There’s no stealth system in existence that could let them creep up on us like that!”

  Alvarez was sturdy and lean. His dark parted hair greyed slightly at the edges. He was a pillar of strength. His features mirrored that of a protective older brother. Aaron absorbed the information displayed across the tactical station. The hostile interlopers were above and ahead relative to Trident. “Yet they crept up on us—like that,” he said.

  The deck lurched again. Senior tactical officer Lieutenant Malcolm Lee called out. “Sir! That ship doesn’t match any known configuration. Definitely familiar technologically in its design and power emissions, but nothing even remotely similar in the database. Seven hundred thousand kilometers and closing—and his lasers have quite the sting, Commander!”

  Aaron had moved from the tactical station, took the command chair, and adjusted display panels on either side of the seat, which would give him basic information from Trident’s sensors. The attacking vessels were smaller than Trident, but with a much larger power curve, and they were certainly punching above their weight.

  Another piercing sound emitted from the bridge speakers, a new alarm.

  “Polarization on the outer armor is buckling,” Lee reported. “They’ll start burning into our forward section any moment.”

  Time to punch back.

  “Helm,” Aaron said. “Come about one-eighty relative to target and ahead flank speed. Get us some distance. We’ve felt their sting. Let’s see what they’ve got for speed.”

  “Aye, sir. Coming about one-eighty relative—flank speed,” Ensign Yuri ‘Flaps’ Miroslav said. He looked almost too young to be at the helm of a starship. His eyes were youthful and curious. He had a boyish grin on his face at the strangest times.

  Raiders in advanced starships? Aaron couldn’t make sense of it, but it was sure to puzzle the men and women at Fleet Intelligence. He had to get away from these attackers and aid the freighter. Lengthy delays might mean higher casualties if the raider damaged its life support systems. Families crewed and resided on many freighters. It was their home. Much like the Trident was his.

  He shook thoughts of the future away. Focus Aaron. This is a—can’t-lose—scenario.

  “Lieutenant Lee, deploy starboard and port railgun batteries, keep forward and rear tucked away for now.” He studied the approach of these brazen bandits—the general brute force of their attack was not standard starship combat tactics. But Trident had breathing room for now as they accelerated away. The hostiles would have to come about before engaging a full pursuit.

  Alvarez took his station beside him.

  Aaron looked over at him. “Vee, clearly they’re relying on the assumption their ship is superior and we’re a mere fly to be swatted with disdain,” he said.

  Alvarez cupped his chin. He was an indispensable Executive Officer and a true friend. “I see no fault in your conclusion, Aaron. They simply pounced like a wild animal from the brush. There’s not a trace of tactics or strategy in their approach. But it’s having quite the effect.”

  Aaron grunted. “For now . . . those laser strikes were never going to penetrate reinforced armor from
the distance they struck. Something isn’t all right with this scenario in more ways than one.”

  “That much is certain,” the XO said. “Either they’re reckless or they’re untrained in the intricacies of starship combat. But what if we’re wrong somehow?”

  “I’ve been wrong before. Better to choose a strong course of action and stick to it and adapt, than allow indecision to drain the intensity from your actions.”

  “Sounds like an all-or-nothing approach, Commander,” Alvarez said. “Some would call it reckless.”

  “And some might call it brilliant,” Aaron said, refusing to acknowledge the obvious hint. The XO was notorious for cracking a joke with a straight face, and at the most odd times.

  “What would you call it, Commander?” Alvarez asked.

  Aaron flashed a wide grin. “Effective.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Our priority is the freighter. Either we force the hostiles to disengage or we destroy them. There’s no other outcome. I won’t let them get this one. Not this time.”

  Lee interrupted them. “Both targets have come about now and are increasing speed, Commander. Distance eight hundred thousand kilometers. They’re faster than us. High acceleration curve and closing!”

  Aaron released his vice grip on the command seat arms and snapped his harness in place. “That’s what we want, let them close to point blank range. Everyone engage restraints, XO, sound the alarm.” Three headache-inducing klaxons would signal to anyone not braced that imminent harsh maneuvers or incoming ordnance strikes might soon follow.

  Lee sounded worried. “We do? Sir, our armor will be significantly weaker when the polarization buckles. It won’t stand up to the intensity of those lasers for very long.”

  Lee stated the obvious, and surely, the tactical officer knew this. Aaron was certain it wasn’t Lee’s intent to inform him of something he didn’t know, but rather—compel him to reconsider.

  He’d considered it—all or nothing.

  “Three hundred thousand kilometers, they’re almost on top of us . . .” Lee said.

  “Bridge, engineering!” It was Sanderson’s voice from engineering. “Armor integrity field is buckling. Not sure how much longer we can hold. Their laser intensity is increasing!”

  Everyone’s a critic today. His crew would follow his orders, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t question them in their minds. What the engineer meant to say was—are you intending on letting them burn us alive? Ridiculous, of course he wasn’t!

  Despite all signs to the contrary.

  The ship bucked as if a giant hand slapped it sideways. There was no mistaking the severity of that jarring vibration. The rear armor was completely depolarized.

  Vee leaned in closer from his left. “Aaron, unless we initiate evasive maneuvers, they’re going to burn a hole straight through our rear armor, at least give them another spot to focus on.”

  “Negative,” Aaron said, keeping his voice low. “Vee, they can clearly out maneuver us and they’ve got superior firepower. We won’t last long in a brawl.” Then louder he said, “Helm, maintain course and on my order, execute maneuver bravo-6. Lieutenant Lee, I want a full railgun spread starboard and port, maximum firing rate, empty the magazines and reload.”

  “Aye, sir, bravo-6, standing by,” Miroslav said, sounding shaky. He was on his first starship assignment out of Fleet Academy. Other than chasing away a few pirates, this would be his first real engagement.

  The railguns could fire as much as three hundred rounds per minute. The targets were close, and at this range, the volley should be devastating. Aaron monitored the display as the targets closed to within two hundred thousand kilometers. Trident heaved again, harder this time. It could only mean one thing.

  Her hull had been compromised.

  “Direct hit astern,” Alvarez reported. “Hull breach, section six, deck two. A few more seconds and they’ll tear us completely open back there.”

  Aaron heard the report and he didn’t hear it. He focused on the distance readout.

  Three. Two. One.

  “Now! Bravo-six maneuver, fire full spread!”

  Trident reversed engines and veered hard to port straining combat harnesses with the sudden emergency deceleration.

  Her two pursuers overshot by fifty thousand kilometers. The maneuver was risky. Any sooner and the relentless bandits may have been able to cut significant momentum before overshooting. Trident would never escape the faster enemy raiders. He’d lured them in to end the engagement with one direct salvo.

  Trident punched back.

  Her port and starboard railgun batteries blasted continuous salvoes as the hostile contacts overshot along her port and starboard quadrants. The barrage ripped through the evidently lightly armored attackers. Projectiles pierced through and through along both attackers’ superstructures.

  “Heavy damage to both vessels,” Lee said. “They’re powerless and adrift,” he paused. “Detecting an object from their ship, small mass, sensor returns indicate . . . missiles in the black!”

  Aaron shifted to the edge of his seat as if the sudden movement could propel Trident forward. “Helm, emergency acceleration. Punch it! Lieutenant, deploy point defense cannons (PDCs).”

  Trident accelerated. Two hundred thousand. Three hundred thousand. Five hundred thousand kilometers from the disabled attackers. Why hadn’t those missiles ignited yet?

  Aaron forced himself to sit back. “They dead dropped them. But why haven’t the missiles activated?”

  The question lingered in the air. No one offered a theory. Raiders with military grade lasers and missiles? Someone at Fleet Intelligence had made a big mistake.

  Three seconds later the first missile struck Trident’s compromised rear armor. Explosions ripped through the rear. The other missile was still out there, dead in space.

  Aaron pounded his fist. “Lieutenant! Destroy those ships now!”

  “Aye, Commander! Hornet missiles away,” Lee said.

  Trident fired several missiles of her own.

  Aaron steadied himself as the ship bucked. “XO, what hit us?”

  “Rear impact, Commander,” the XO said. “I’m only seeing one missile left now, it hasn’t energized yet either. Looking over the recording, the impact was from the first missile. It ignited its engine and less than two seconds later struck us.”

  That would mean the missile was almost superluminal. Aaron didn’t know of any weapon advancements involving superluminal capabilities. The United Fleet’s fastest missiles accelerated to .5 c. The latest railgun designs lobbed their munitions at .3 c.

  At five hundred thousand kilometers from the target, at near the speed of light, the enemy missile took less than two seconds to impact. The ship’s PDCs hadn’t been able to react, even under computer control. Trident accelerated at flank speed from the target, but the other missile might come soon. Why hadn’t it struck already?

  “Lee, override! Take manual control of the PDCs. Thirty degree cone of fire, relative to hostile missile’s projected vector, cover our stern—fire!”

  The small point defense cannons installed on the ship provided three hundred and sixty degrees of coverage from missiles or other similar types of ordnance. The overhead and bulkheads rumbled. The point defense screen intercepted the remaining missile.

  During the mayhem, Trident’s missiles made certain the overconfident attackers wouldn’t be dropping any more surprises. Smoldering wrecks drifted through the void, a scattering of debris left in their wakes.

  “Targets destroyed, Commander,” Lee reported. Likely, more for satisfaction than necessity.

  Aaron nodded, released his harness and rose from the command chair. He was forgetting something. The drum in his chest returned to a normal pace. The freighter!

  “XO, status on the freighter?”

  “I wish I knew exactly,” the XO said. “Sensors show it still on the far side of the system. It’s near the gas giant. Nothing suggests any kind of damage. Maybe we interrupte
d the attack. It seems our late attackers knew we were coming. They were waiting for us.”

  “Hail them.”

  “I’ve tried, sir, there’s no response.” Alvarez sent the hail again. He looked up and shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “Engineering, Sanderson, what’s your initial assessment on our damage?”

  “Our rear armor is completely compromised, I mean broken beyond repair, Commander. There’s only so much nanites can do. Several hull breaches in the rear sections. Emergency repairs are in place, atmosphere is contained. It’s largely structural damage, Commander, we’ve got full power available at your command.”

  Two attackers destroyed and only minor structural damage. What would the admirals say about that? “I’ll leave you to it, Sanderson, bridge out. XO, scan the transponder. Who is it registered to?”

  The operations officer worked his station. “Designation, Serenity Light, registration D-1071. Crew, two hundred and fifty. Registered under family name—Reid. Rigel Star System Shipping.”

  Aaron’s eyebrows shot up. “A Rigel freighter? On the frontier? I know Rigel has one of the largest hauling capacities throughout the United Star Systems, but mainly in the core worlds not so?”

  Someone coughed. It was Lee. “Excuse me, sirs, as you know I’m from Rigel. It’s true they’re a heavy lifter. But they specialize in starship components and raw materials. That’s the bulk of our lift and contracts, not ore. Rigel Shipping mainly hauls on contract for the USSF if I recall correctly.”

  Rigel was one of the first major Earth colonies in the twenty-second century.

  “Then, either this is one wayward and lost freighter,” Aaron said, “or suddenly Rigel Shipping has decided to expand.”

  “XO, general broadcast.” Aaron paused. “To Captain—Serenity Light, this is Rayne A. Commanding United Fleet Ship Trident, we responded to your distress call. What is the status of your ship?”

  Everyone waited. The bridge fell silent. Finally, a single beep alerted them to a response.