He worked on finishing up the last calculations for their return; it was going to be elegant, and only just within Fleet guidelines for inner system flight rules. He wanted to be very sure that he stayed inside the rules, not outside. The comm link beeped, and Bob found that he was speaking with the habitat manger once again. That was not just a little surprise, but a major one.
“You are docked, are you not? Your fans are down?” Heinrich Wolf asked Bob.
“Yes, sir,” Bob replied, totally at a loss for the point of the conversation.
“Please review the system sensor logs. Under no circumstances, until you fully understand the situation, will you bring your fans back online. You will do so only on my direct order, or, if I’m not available, at your discretion. Go light on consumables. Very light.”
“Yes, sir.”
He glanced at Sarah Grant, who was looking steadily back at him. Bob wished then, that she was a Rim Runner, able to work the comms, able to do all sorts of things. One day, he thought, one day not so far in the future, she’d be able to -- but that day wasn’t today. For a long moment, he considered sending her back with the rest, but realized from her steady gaze that she was aware that there was a problem.
Bob pulled up the system logs for the last hour, and then blanched when he got to the first unannounced visitor and the message they had broadcast. No wonder he had problems with Fleet Aloft here! The men in command here shouldn’t have been in charge of a rowboat!
The second ship sent shivers down his spine and the next five left him sweating bullets.
“This is your Captain speaking,” he said over the intercom. “As of this moment I am declaring a flight emergency. This is not a drill, it is not a trick. Failure to obey the orders of a ship commander during a flight emergency is a felony with punishments ranging from fines to execution.
“Secure yourselves in your seats after you have secured anything loose in the cabin. Any consumable, either food or liquid is to be stored and consumed only if I approve...”
A voice came over the intercom. “Can I swallow my gum or should I spit it out?”
“Mr. Rodriguez, I’m logging you for failure to comply with flight emergency rules; I’m logging you for interfering with a ship’s commander during a flight emergency and for hindering dissemination of critical information. As I told you a few moments ago, sanctions against such behavior include the death penalty. Considering the gravity of the situation, you may well be shot. Consider yourself under arrest, sir. Speak again and I have the legal right to space you, forthwith.
“Listen up! We are in deep kim-chee here! You can’t fool around; you can’t tie up the comm circuits making stupid jokes. All of our lives are at risk. This shuttle is not currently compromised, but we may be at any time. Your only hope of survival is to shut up and do as you’re told.”
His eyes were now focused, real time on the system sensor feeds. For whatever reason, Director Wolf had left him in comm link to Peach. He listened to the back and forth between Peach and that ship, that incredible, wonderful ship, Starfarer’s Dream.
When it was over, he tapped the ignore button on the controls and leaned down and put his forehead against the panel. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to cry or cheer.
Sarah Grant cleared her throat. “May I ask a question, Captain?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I’m not sure what just happened. I heard the words, but it was like a bad HDD plot.”
He didn’t lift his head. “It is worse than any bad HDD plot, ever.”
“May I ask another question, Captain?”
“Sarah, you are hereby appointed my official questioner. Go ahead.”
“It really happened?”
“It really happened.” He lifted his head off the control console, composing himself. “I’m sorry; I’ve never lost it like that before in my entire life.”
“Are you going to tell the others?”
Bob looked at her, surprised. The thought of not doing so had never crossed his mind.
“Yes. Sarah, I hate to ask this of you, but could you pretend to be a news reporter? I’ll make a short statement to the others and then you ask me questions.”
“Okay,” she said, a trifle reluctant.
Bob Shannon didn’t care. He punched the intercom button. “This is Captain Robert Shannon, in command of this shuttle. I wish to make the following statement. After my statement, a crew representative, Sarah Grant, will ask questions. The rest of you, please, for now, hold your peace.”
He mentally ran over the data and composed his statement.
“A short time ago, a Fleet vessel arrived in the Tannenbaum system, broadcasting an emergency warning message. They reported to the Fleet base here that they had been attacked by ships, thought to be non-human. The systems of Agincourt and Gandalf, they reported, have been destroyed. While they were reporting this, a second Fleet vessel, a corvette, arrived from Fleet World, reporting an attack there and repeated the message about the destruction of Gandalf.
“During these transmissions, five unknown vessels appeared in the Tannenbaum system and commenced firing on vessels outside the fan limit. The corvette, under orders, jumped to escape. One of the unknown vessels jumped shortly thereafter and has not reappeared.
“A few minutes into the attack, one of the unknown vessels jumped to attack a Fleet ship and was promptly destroyed. Five minutes later that Fleet ship jumped against an unknown vessel that appeared to be maneuvering to attack Peach. That unknown vessel was also destroyed before it could launch any attack. The remaining two unknown ships had jumped inside the fan well to attack ships there. After the second unknown vessel was destroyed they broke off their attacks and have exited the fan well and have gone to High Fan. They have not returned.
“Fleet Aloft has declared a System Emergency.”
Bob looked at Sarah and she nodded.
“Captain, this is Sarah Grant, a dirty-foot student aboard. Is Peach safe?”
“As of this moment, Peach is safe and unharmed.”
“And Tannenbaum?”
“As of this moment, Fleet Aloft is marshaling the available vessels to rise in defense of the system. The planet wasn't attacked.”
“What is the name of the ship that destroyed the two attackers?”
He shook his head at her -- no more questions along this line! “I’m afraid I can’t talk about that. Please don’t ask questions of tactical military importance.”
“What about us, Captain?”
“We are inert alongside a nickel-steel fragment. We were almost certainly undetected. While we are within the High Fan well of Tannenbaum VI, we can proceed using low fan. When Peach authorizes us, we will return there with all due speed. I’m sorry, Miss Grant, but now I have to work the ship.”
The comm light was lit and he punched that up. Director Wolf beamed at him. “I’m glad you’re still with us, Mr. Shannon.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“How much of what occurred could you follow?”
“I could see the players, sir. The how and why of what happened from both sides escaped me.”
“Well, you shouldn’t let such things bother you. How are you fixed for consumables?”
“I have twenty hours of O2 -- that’s the most critical number. With this many people aboard, the emergency recirculation plan only extends that to forty-eight hours.”
“Well, for the time being I think you should stay there. Keep a course plotted for a very rapid return.
“Right now, Mr. Shannon, things are still in a state of flux.”
“Sir? The unknowns have left!”
“Fleet Aloft wants me to arrest the ship that saved our bacon; the ones who saved the entire system’s bacon. I’ve been rude -- so have others. Oh, wait, there it is. Try channel 19; our savior is putting the data dump out to the general public. We’re at war, Mr. Shannon.”
Bob glanced at Sarah, who had paled. “I figured.” His fingers flew over the comp, pulling up the
data dump on another screen.
“For right now, stay where you are,” General Manager Wolf repeated to Bob. “I am working with -- the other ship -- as to an emergency plan.”
“Yes, sir,” Bob replied, even if he wasn’t sure what the issues were about.
“Give me about ten minutes. Be ready then for a very quick return.”
“Yes, sir!” Bob repeated with alacrity.
There was no way for him to listen to the data dump without Sarah hearing it. She kept silent, and if she had tears running down her cheeks, Bob wasn’t about to fault her for them -- he did too.
He debated telling the others but decided there was no reason to do so. Finally General Manager Wolf was back. “You will alert your passengers as to the fact that they and their parents are to be evacuated. You will not go into the reasons for the evacuation -- that will be done after you are back. You are not to dock with Peach. You will dock with Fleet Auxiliary Starfarer’s Dream. Dream is currently about fifty thousand kilometers from Peach and is in the process of receiving slop buckets and additional pax modules. They are dropping a lot of cargo as well. I am, Mr. Shannon, ordering the evacuation of all dependents, including you.”
“Me, sir?”
“You, Mr. Shannon. You are to report to Fleet Captain William Travers aboard Starfarer’s Dream.” The general manager paused. “Mr. Shannon, we are at war, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir, I said that I did.”
“Captain Travers has already inducted a young woman into the Fleet. She is younger than you and I feel a certain pride that she is my niece. I would suggest that this is a similar opportunity for you. I can no longer spare you any time, sir. Return forthwith, dock with Starfarer’s Dream. You may keep the shuttle, Mr. Shannon. I have logged it as on my discretion.”
Bob blinked. Use of a shuttle was no big deal -- there were a lot of them, and if you could use them, they were made available. However, ownership was something else again. It was like someone coming up to you on the street and giving you ten million dollars.
“Aye, aye, sir.”
He had long since had the computer churning flight paths and he simply picked the best one.
He picked up the microphone button. “Because of our flight emergency, we will be returning to the vicinity of Peach. We will have to execute the return at a high delta V and that will be uncomfortable -- over five G’s for several minutes. There will also be a High Fan component, which will be uncomfortable in its own way.
“I will tell you in advance -- you and me -- all of you as well as me, have been ordered evacuated. We will be docking with a Fleet ship that can handle a considerable number of passengers.
“We are at minus one hundred and twenty seconds. You will want to make sure your head is firmly against your seat rest and that you have nothing in your lap or on your body. Just relax, breathe deeply for the next two minutes and then endure. See you on the other side!”
He disconnected the intercom and Sarah touched his hand. “Thanks, Captain.”
He laughed bitterly. “Captain in name only, I’m afraid. You know the terrible part of living on the Rim?”
She shook her head.
“No matter how long you’ve been here, no matter how well you think you’re prepared, events have an annoying habit of surprising you. When they do all you have is training and experience to fall back on. And you know what? Sometimes you aren’t trained and lack experience.”
“You’re eighteen, right?” Sarah Grant asked.
“Yes.”
“And I’m an orphan. Please, Captain, adopt me.”
“Don’t you have a brother?”
“A brother who, like my father and mother, will never make it out here. They think they know what’s involved. And I know I don’t.”
“How much do you understand of what’s going on?”
“We are at war. Someone came into the system and destroyed a lot of ships. Tangerine -- that was the habitat my parents were going to work on, is gone. So are some ships.”
“Yes. We’re going to dock with Starfarer’s Dream. Sarah... Starfarer’s Dream was the only ship in the system that fought back.”
She was silent for a second. “And how many people will be evacuated on that ship?”
“Several thousand -- six or eight thousand. Women and children.”
“And there are how many people in this system? Hundreds of millions?”
“Yes.”
“So, if they come back, that ship will fight back.”
“Yes, if it's still here by then. In theory, some of the Fleet ships will be ready shortly, but no one has any confidence in them.”
“How can that be?”
“Sarah, some people can do the impossible -- and others can’t tie their shoes.”
He spoke into the microphone. “Thirty seconds to high acceleration. Make sure your head is firmly against the rest, or you’ll be in dreamland for hours and in the hospital after that!”
He settled his head back against the rest and Sarah did as well. “Yes or no?” she asked suddenly.
“Yes.”
The fans kicked in. It would have been criminal to take off at five g’s -- instead he built up to that over a minute. Two minutes later they went to High Fan with no cycle time. He managed to hold his breakfast in place and so did Sarah. Not so those in the cabin.
Braking was terribly sharp as well, and spinning the shuttle didn’t help any of the dirty-feet.
As he was approaching Peach for the second time in a week at a velocity and acceleration that made hash of inner system flight rules once again, a face appeared on his screen. He was in his forties, wearing a white line command shipsuit. “Goodness, Mr. Shannon! Director Wolf told me that you liked hot approaches! I had no idea just how hot!”
“We’ll be ready to dock in eleven minutes,” Bob grunted, his diaphragm not doing well under five gravities.
“I can see that. Captain Shannon, I have a small favor to ask of you.”
“Sir?” Bob asked.
“Would you be willing to accept a minor demotion and join Starfarer’s Dream’s company as a pilot officer? You’d be an ensign, not a captain.”
“Yes, sir!” Bob replied with alacrity.
“Dock and then see to your passengers. Peach is still getting pax modules and their cargo organized. We’ll be boosting in about three hours. Once your passengers are secure, see me on the bridge.”
“Yes, sir!” Bob said, pleased as he could be, given the circumstances.
A few minutes later they coasted the last few meters to their docking position, ninety-nine meters from Starfarer’s Dream. Bob picked up his microphone. “You will disembark through the boarding tube. Obey the ship’s crew -- I can’t emphasize that too much. They will see you quickly reunited with your families.
“This is not part of your curriculum, no matter what some of you might think. On the Rim the use of the phrase ‘no drill’ has a special cachet and that phrase has been used today frequently. Trust me, this isn’t a test, this isn’t a drill, this is a matter of our lives and deaths, individually and as a species. You will be risking a great many lives if you do not obey the instructions given to you.”
After that it was headier than Bob could have ever imagined. He saluted the Fleet captain on the bridge of Starfarer’s Dream.
“We don’t have time for formalities, Mr. Shannon,” Bill Travers told him.
Bob laughed. “Then let me informally thank you for our lives, Captain.”
Captain Travers shrugged it off. “I’ve been trying to pilot and command at the same time. So far, so good. I don’t want the extra distraction. Mr. Shannon, you have advanced piloting certificates, and were two proof orbits from your heavy gravity system skip certification?”
“Yes, sir,” Bob replied.
“Welcome to the Fleet, Ensign Shannon.”
“Sir, I have a dependent.”
Captain Travers eyed him. “You are, Ensign, a mite young for a dependent.”<
br />
“She is an orphan, sir. I stand for her.”
Captain Travers regarded Bob soberly for a few moments. “Mr. Shannon, at Agincourt we picked up a family -- who are, so far as we know, the only survivors in the system. My weapons officer, her father, mother, and her younger sister. Her younger sister is a Tenebra orphan, Ensign Shannon.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Bob replied, having had plenty of experience in knowing what the Fleet wanted to hear from hot pilots.
“Well, enough. Director Wolf expects us to depart in a few hours for New Helgoland. Is there any reason you can’t fly us out of here?”
“None, sir.”
“Carry on then, Ensign Shannon.”
II
New Helgoland had another Class II Fleet base; they also had already been warned and the most significant thing about that was that they’d been warned by a dispatch corvette that had come from Earth, not Fleet World. There was no doubt that Paul Revere had worked and had worked well.
Admiral Toby Greer, commanding Fleet Aloft at New Helgoland, had taken Captain Travers’ verbal report, and then excused himself while the documentation was gone over by he and his staff. When he returned, his reply was, even considering, unexpected.
“Captain Travers, under your Paul Revere command set, your next stop would be Earth.” His statement wasn’t even close to a question.
“Yes, sir.”
“Where you and your crew would almost certainly become embroiled in some controversy.” Again, it wasn’t a question.
“Admiral, I am confident that my actions, and I stress, those were my actions, taken over the proper objections of Commander Hoyt and others, will bear up.”
“As am I, Captain. I’m sure of it as well.
“The news is grim, very grim. I was a little over-eager, Captain. I dispatched all but four of my ships to warn the nearby colonies. Now you report Tannenbaum has come under attack; Tannenbaum is only twenty light years away. That’s practically next door and at least three of the alien ships survived.
“I realize that diverting Paul Revere assets is in contravention of regulations, but I would like to request that you remain in the New Helgoland system for another thirty-six hours; by then I should have two cruisers back from their Paul Revere duties. I’ll still be sweating bullets, but I’d be more confident -- a lot more confident. Earth has already been warned, Captain. When you get home, you’re going to be sitting on your can for weeks and weeks, and right now I need you here. I can really use you.”
Starfarer's Dream (Kinsella Universe Book 4) Page 18