Beyond the Starport Adventure (Bullet Book 1)

by Richard Fairbairn

  “Homeguard one, this is Imperial Defence. You are off course. Can you elaborate?”

  “Affirmative, Imperial Defence. Justice Six orders are that we return to their position. We are on our way there.”

  Fannchinn imagined he could sense the operator’s discomfort. She hesitated for a long time before speaking again.

  “Admiral Jaxx has given orders for you to proceed on a direct course to the Justice Six. I show you as off course by four point two degrees.”

  “That’s correct, Imperial Defence. If we follow Admiral Jaxx’s course instructions I predict that we will be within range of the enemy weapons systems. I have indicated this to Admiral Jaxx and Justice Six but as yet have no response.”

  “Affirmative, Homeguard One. Grid, we are tracking an unknown number of small craft heading to intercept you,” There was a catch in her voice, “Uhm, Lieutenant Fannchinn you are ordered to immediately resume a direct course to the Justice Six.”

  “Our deviated course will get us there about thirty seconds later – and we’ll be in one piece,” Fannchinn said, “Carrel, is that you? Imperial Command? Who am I talking to.”

  “Carrel is not here today, Lieutenant,” The voice sounded, “My name is Jaffchon.”

  “Jaffchon, if we proceed on the original course the alien ship will destroy us. Didn’t you see what happened to the other fighters?”

  “Affirmative, sir,” Jaffchon’s breathing seemed laboured, “Direct orders from Admiral Jaxx.”

  Fannchinn shook his head in frustration. The Justice Six was about forty five minutes away. The enemy ship was approaching quickly, but not catching up with the three fighters. He wondered if enough distance had been gained to put his fighter group out of range. Disobeying a direct order from an imperial Admiral was punishable by death.

  “Alright, we’re returning to the original course. What’s the detail on the small craft? I don’t see anything on my scope.”

  “Thanks Grid,” Jaffchon replied, “We’re tracking between two and six small craft accelerating towards your position. We’ve no idea what kind of weapons they might be carrying, but we’re assuming that the enemy ship has launched a group of small fighters. They’ll be within your weapons range in six minutes.”

  “Understood,” Fannchin said, “Homeguard, we are returning to original course. Direct orders from Admiral Jaxx. Not sure if this will put us within range of the… Neil Armstrong… I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

  The course change took moments to execute. Fannchin, studying his scope, smiled tightly as he realised that his fighter group would most likely remain out of range of its pursuer’s weapons. He’d expected the enemy ship to be faster. For a ship its size, the USS Neil Armstrong seemed to move remarkably slowly. Even the Justice Six – half the size of its new enemy – could easily outrun it. But the smaller fighters were moving much faster.

  “Are you receiving our data?” Jaffchon said.

  “Affirmative. I see the small fighter group. Should we destroy them when they are within range?”

  “Of course,” Jaffchon sounded confused, “Why wouldn’t you?”

  2195AD - Predator Fighter Group.

  The two Lockheed Martin P900 Predator fighters were at full power. Even then, they were slowly losing speed. They’d been fired simultaneously from Armstrong’s magnetic launch turrets. Within the space of a few seconds the fighters had accelerated to a velocity twice that of their maximum speed.

  “You know, that was really fun,” Coleman, behind his pilot, laughed nervously, “I guess we’re still alive – unless I’m a Ciao in heaven too.”

  Ciao was the affectionate term given to the “backseat driver” on-board the two seat fighter craft. The Computer Information Officer.

  “We survived the launch, Gopher,” Steed grinned, “We usually do.”

  “Gentlemen, that’s one more incident free launch,” Lieutenant Commander Connah sounded over the intercom. His Predator was on Steed’s left – about fifteen hundred miles distant and travelling at eight hundred thousand miles per hour. His voice was flat and emotionless as he spoke. “I’m beginning to think that this new technology works.”

  Steed’s grin broadened in response.

  “Three fighters closely grouped directly ahead of us,” Coleman reported, “Extreme weapons range in ninety five seconds.”

  “Roger that,” Steed said, “Spock, what’s your weapons status?”

  “Ready to fire in ninety seconds,” Connah responded, “LR missiles armed and ready.”

  Coleman watched the Enrilean fighters closely, somehow expecting them to change direction. But even as the long range missile system locked each of the three targets they kept pushing forward towards the distant Justice Six.

  “Missile lock,” Coleman said.

  “Confirmed missile lock here too,” Connah’s CIO replied, “No change in target aspect.”

  “Roger. Armstrong, we are about to fire,” Steed said.

  “Affirmative on your last, Wildcard. You are weapons free at your discretion.”

  Steed adjusted the lateral thrusters. The ship edged to the right, increasing his distance from Connah’s spacecraft. In the lower part of his own ship, two of the four long range missiles stowed there moved into the launch tubes. Moments later, the launch tubes powered up and expelled the missiles just as the Armstrong had launched the Predators. The Predator trembled violently as the missiles streaked away, but in a moment the vibration faded. Steed watched the sparking blue energy trail left by each missile.

  “Mav, we might have just broken a world record here,” Coleman said with some excitement, “Those missiles are travelling at ninety percent light speed.”

  “I doubt it, Gopher,” Steed laughed, “But they’re going pretty fast. Alright, Marcus, our missiles are away and tracking two targets. Thirty seconds until detonation.”

  “Thank you, Tom. I see your missiles. We’re launching ours in five, four, three, two… missiles launched,” There was a pause, “That’s quite a kick,” He finished.

  “Roger that, Ice. Should have mentioned it,” Steed said, “Ten seconds until detonation.”

  Marcus’s missile trails were visible for a fleeting moment before they faded into invisible, inert particles of dust. Steed’s missiles were locked onto two of the three rapidly fleeing fighters. The missiles were travelling almost twice as fast as the alien ships. Steed thought that the two alien fighter pilots would never know what hit them. Or would they? Were they watching the missiles speed towards them, ready to destroy them with some defence mechanism. The seconds ticked by. Coleman observed as the red dots of the Predators’ long range missiles swallowed two of the three the white dots that represented the fast moving Enrilean fighters.

  Grid Fannchinn did not realise that his wingmen were both dead. His scanners had been scrambled by the high energy output from the engine. It was a full ten seconds before the voice of Imperial Command sounded.

  “Homeguard one, this is Imperial Command. Emergency evasive manoeuvres. Grid, there are two missiles coming right at you!”

  Fannchinn did not hesitate. He pulled the Dart fighter to the right, cutting the main engine at the same time. The fighter slowed dramatically and, despite the inertia compensator, Grid felt the g forces trying to pull his head off his shoulders. He wondered why Imperial Command had called out to him only and not the entire wing. In the same moment he guessed, correctly, that Hobdinn and Klunn wear already dead. When he called out for them to report, the lifeless crackling of the communications system confirmed it. Grid’s ship had slowed dramatically, but the approaching missiles followed it with ease. He saw them, finally, on his tactical scanner but he only had time to open his mouth before the first missile detonated. There was a brilliant fireball in space that fanned outwards for ten thousand miles before disappearing completely.

  “Third enemy fighter has been destroyed,” Connah said, “Wildcard, did you note the evasive manoeuvre?”

  “Roger that. Looks
like he saw it coming – just wasn’t enough time for him to do anything about it,” Steed replied, “But the other two guys just stayed right on course until their missiles hit, so looks like they didn’t see them coming.”

  2195AD - USS Neil Armstrong.

  Captain O’Rourke noted the destruction of the fighters. There had been some small celebration on the bridge and, no doubt, amongst the crew. He didn’t feel like celebrating. The Justice Six, although smaller than Armstrong, had destroyed the USS Drake. The alien ship was unmoving in space, but O’Rourke did not believe that the Justice Six was incapable of fighting. And there was the question of the fighters that were approaching from the rear. Another twenty small craft barrelling towards the stricken or destroyed Drake. Connah and Steed had despatched the three strays so quickly it almost made him suspect that the aliens were setting some kind of trap. It seemed insane, but he had to keep an open mind. The first wave of fighters had flown right into the Armstrong’s strongest defences.

  “Captain, Justice Six has started to move,” Strange said, “They’re moving slow, Liam. Maybe they’re hurt. Wounded or damaged. I dunno.”

  “Alright,” O’Rourke nodded, “Order Connah and Steed to fall back to our right flank. I want four more Predators out there portside. And another eight ready for deployment. No, make that twelve Chris. I want twelve Predators ready in case the fighter group becomes a threat.”

  “You can count on me, Captain,” Strange said.

  O’Rourke looked into the cold smiling, dead stare of his tactical officer. They went back years. Longer than he remembered. Three decades maybe. Long enough to remember when Chris’s eyes might have had some light behind them. A long time ago. He walked across to the taller man and spoke softly, close to Strange’s right ear.

  “We’ve shot down 21 of them now. Not a one of them returned fire. The first wave just rushed straight at us. What do you think’s going on?”

  “A warrior race,” Strange kept smiling, “Maybe they’re so intent on dying in battle they forgot to…”

  “Christ, Chris!”

  Strange’s eyes illuminated briefly. He looked embarrassed, but then his countenance solidified once more and he shrugged his response as he spoke it.

  “Don’t know, sir. Really. Could be they’re testing the range of our weapons. I doubt that, really, but it’s possible. Lot of fighters and men to lose if they’re doing that. Truth is, I don’t know Liam – Captain. But if the pilots realised they were flying right at our weapons they didn’t disobey their orders.”

  “Alright,” O’Rourke grunted, “Thanks,” He added, his tone almost ironic.

  2195AD - EWS Justice Six.

  Justice Six was still moving, but damaged. Admiral Jaxx was purposefully manoeuvring the ship at a laboured crawl to provide the illusion that Justice Six was more seriously damaged than it actually was. Meanwhile, the destroyer’s energy cannons were fully charged and ready to fire. Justice Six’s main engines were poised to thrust the ship straight towards the approaching enemy and the Enrilean Empire into yet another glorious war.

  2195AD - Throne City, Enrilea.

  The guards at the end of the corridor did not move a muscle as the heavy doors swung open. The Emperor’s chief assistant, Master Crystallan, stepped briskly through the entrance. The high heels of his leather soled boots rattled against the polished marble floor. The corridor was cold. Winter had come to Throne City late this year and had lingered all the way into what might have been spring. The ageless palace was cold despite the new heating systems. Crystallan’s breath came in sharp white puffs as he marched towards the Emperor’s meeting room. Automated sentries in the walls scrutinised him as he passed them, and when he reached the end of the corridor the strong metal door was already sliding upwards.

  “Your highness, Master Crystallan!”

  Crystallan nodded perfunctorily in the direction of the Imperial Guardsman and entered the chamber. This was one of the largest chambers in the massive Emperor’s palace. The intricate designs of crystal, glass and stone were contrasted by the modern technology that had been installed around the room. The view screens, consoles and power stations were all placed in a way that made it seem as if they had only just been placed. But they’d been there for decades. There was single, seven foot tall, imperial guard just inside the security door. Three uniformed men were working on various control panels in the room. They ignored Crystallan’s approach.

  “Crystallan,” The Emperor looked up, “Yes, Flezza Crystallan. My military advisor. My young, strong military advisor. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Sire, the pleasure is entirely mine.”

  Crystallan crossed the room in a dozen long paces. He knelt in front of his emperor briefly, then stood to his full height.

  “Emperor , I have news from Admiral Jaxx. Justice Six has encountered and destroyed an alien warship.”

  “This I know,” The old man nodded slowly, “So there is war? These humans have come to fight us?”

  “It would seem that way,” Crystallan said, “Admiral Jaxx reports that a spacecraft designated as the USS Drake opened fire on Justice Six without warning. Justice Six destroyed the warship.”

  “This I know. I have been in contact with my old friend Hazer and he has told me his thoughts.”

  Crystallan was silent. He wondered if Jaxx had mentioned the death of his executive officer, Finn.

  “The alien aggressors have sent a larger vessel to avenge the destruction of their warship.”

  “So this is a planned attack? My old friend Jaxx was quite right. The humans have declared war, it seems. But the first strike on Relathon still makes no sense. Why didn’t the humans attack the Throne world?”

  “We have no way of knowing that, your majesty,” Flezza said, “Perhaps the first strike weapon mistook Relathon for Enrilea. Perhaps there are other such weapons on the way. There is, of course, the school of thought that proposes the attack on the city was an… accident.”

  Emperor Oldeans’ expression rarely changed much. His cloudy, emerald eyes never seemed to hold more than a glimmer of passion. But Oldeans watched the Empire from behind his weathered exterior with quiet, calculating reserve. He examined Crystallan’s face as he considered the last statement. It was not the first time that Crystallan had suggested that the attack on Relathon was nothing more than an accident. The messages of peace that had been transmitted from the USS Drake had qualified this. Crystallan had brought them to his Emperor dutifully along with his opinion that the destruction of Jann Linn city had not been an act of war.

  “I believe that Admiral Jaxx is correct,” The emperor said, “The humans have declared war on our way of life. I am aware that the approaching warship has already killed many brave pilots. We must destroy vessel this and whatever else they send at us.”

  Crystallan’s face was stone. He knew about the emperor’s bond with Admiral Jaxx. They’d been close friends since Jaxx had returned from Relathon, disfigured and crippled after his failed suicide attempt. Fifty years ago, or more. Before the war with Relathon had ignited. There was a connection between the two men that nobody would dare to question. Crystallan knew that Admiral Jaxx had ignored Imperial Command’s orders to return to the Throne world. He’d given the order himself. Jaxx had ignored his commands, as he did so often. Crystallan had not expected Emperor Oldeans to punish or even reprimand Jaxx for his disobedience. He expected that the Emperor would ignore Jaxx’s disregard for orders as he had many time before. He would not dare challenge Jaxx or the Emperor. Years ago, one of the Imperial Guard had suffered the painful consequence of such an indiscretion. The poor man had been stocked in the courtyard for two days before being released. It had been winter too, Crystallan recalled, which made the exposure torment much worse. Crystallan doubted that the Emperor would tolerate his military advisor chained outside and left to the elements. But he could never be completely sure.

  “Admiral Jaxx is an Enrilean hero,” Crystallan said, “I am sure h
is actions are justified.”

  The emperor gave a brittle smile. His deep set eyes narrowed slightly as he nodded softly.

  “What is the status of our fleet?”

  “Devastation is on its way to assist Admiral Jaxx’s Justice Six, but the human ship Neil Armstrong will be upon them within the hour. The Justice Six is not expected to survive the engagement. As you know, Admiral Jaxx has declined the opportunity for safe return to Enrilea. We have four more ships in the Enrilean solar system also, your majesty. Diamondite, Hann Kaztor, Maelstrom and Repulse. As you know, Admiral Killian is returning from exercises in sector eighty four. The second Armada is returning from sector fourteen as we speak. Admiral Killian’s ships will arrive back at the Empire within 24 hours. Admiral Deather’s fleet will begin arriving within the week. We have sufficient defences within the solar system now to repel any further attack, your majesty. Two hundred fighters are ready and we have over forty short range defensive vessels prepared for launching.”