His next thoughts were of Pandora, wondering what she was doing. Probably organizing a rescue mission to save me, he thought, shaking his head. I wish she wouldn’t put herself at such risk. But there’s really nothing I can do about it right now. Except figure out a way to aid her in finding me, if she gets here.
Chapter Five
Whenever I hear anyone arguing for slavery, I feel a strong impulse to see it tried on him personally.
Abraham Lincoln
“We should be entering Imperial space about now,” said Captain Mandrake over the com from the ship bridge.
“Picking up ships moving in hyper VII,” said Lt. Commander Neelesh Satyapathy, the tactical officer, from his station behind the captain. “Range, one point eight light years. Velocity, thirty-six thousand times light speed.”
Meaning their velocity as compared to normal space, thought Pandi.
“I read fourteen vessels,” continued the Tactical Officer. “Four are in the fifteen million ton range, six in the two million ton range, and the remainder are well under a million tons.”
Pandi looked at the tactical plot, which was now live on the main holo. The four largest ships were in a diamond formation, the six medium vessels in a globe around them, the escorts in a second shell around them all.
“They’re curving their vector around to chase us,” said the Tactical Officer. “Estimated ETA with course change, three minutes, twenty-six seconds.”
“Of course, we will be well past them at that time,” said Mandrake. “I suggest that we keep moving and blow past them. There is really nothing they can do to us while we remain in VIII.”
“How long to drop down into VII, and match courses and velocities?” asked Pandi, looking at the Captain in the side holo.
“Why would you want to do that, Commodore?” asked the woman with a confused expression on her face. “We can outrun them easily. We will be at the enemy home system before they can get word to them.”
“Because I need information,” said Pandi, looking into the woman’s eyes. “And they have the information I need.”
“Are you sure it’s not for some other reason, Commodore? Something to do with getting back at these people. And remember, they outmass us by over eighteen times.”
Pandi looked around her flag bridge, and could read the agreement in the eyes of the Suryans that manned the stations. And the fear of going into battle with what looked like a foe that outclassed them completely. And only a month ago, that would have been true, with their tech base. But not now. Not if I have the read on the tech bases right.
“Look. I know you’all don’t really like the idea of battling these folks. At least not in the numbers they have here. I need information, and here it is. Now, if you all want to follow me, we can do what I want and get that information. If’n you don’t want to go where I lead, I will order you all to evacuate to the other ships, and I’ll go and face down the big bad boogie men myself.”
“You can’t run this ship on your own,” said Mandrake. “And I refuse to allow you to put yourself at such a risk.”
Pandi smiled as she closed her eyes and linked with the ship, ordering it to begin deceleration while powering up the weapons. She opened them to see the crew behind Dasha, on the holo, punching their fingers onto their boards and looking at their Captain with fearful confusion.
“I can not only run this ship on my own, I can prevent any of you from having any form of control over her,” she told Mandrake, looking steadily into the other woman’s eyes. “I am your Commodore, or I am not. Now, you’all swore oaths to obey me. It’s time to honor those oaths,” she said, standing up from her command chair, her voice rising “or to dishonor them, in which case all of you can get the hell off of my ship.”
“Commodore,” said Mandrake, looking down at the floor. “Of course we will honor our oaths.”
“Good,” said Pandi, releasing control of the ship with a thought. “In that case, now how long will it take to drop into hyper VII, and match courses and velocities with those bastards?”
* * *
“Those ships we picked up in hyper VIII are starting to decelerate,” called out the Tactical Officer.
“And why in the hell would they do that?” asked Admiral Emilio Tounces, walking the command deck of the battleship Terrible, his flagship. And where in the hell did they come from? There had been tales that the ancestors had been able to use hyper VIII for movement, something his people were nowhere near to doing. And something that had to be at least a thousand years beyond his own tech base. But there are only three of them, and they’re smaller than cruisers. No matter how advanced they are, they really can’t expect to take on my force in hyper, can they?
All of his ships were armed to the teeth with particle beams and lasers, and carried magazines full of the best missiles his people could build, capable of six thousand gravities acceleration. Even if they were much more advanced, they weren’t invulnerable, or indestructible.
It’s the people who were with the Abomination when Jackson took them, he thought, remembering the dispatches that the rival admiral had left with him in passing, just in case such a thing happened. He should have killed everyone who was with him, so that there wouldn’t have been any pursuit.
“The unknowns are translating down into hyper VII,” called out the Tactical Officer. “Velocity, point six one light.”
“That fast,” said the Admiral, feeling disbelief. We can’t do better than point two five when we translate.
“The ships are starting to curve their vector. Decelerating at two thousand gravities.”
“All ships to battle stations,” yelled the Admiral, realizing that his own disbelief was affecting his judgment.
“Battle stations, aye,” called out the Tactical Officer, and klaxons started going off, as the lighting system flashed red.
“How long before they match course and velocities?” yelled the Admiral as he ran to the locker that held his battle armor.
“Five minutes, ten seconds at current configuration, sir,” called the Tactical Officer as he paused at his board for a moment, then headed for his own locker.
And there is no way we are going to be able to get away from them, thought the Admiral as he climbed into his suit and allowed it to close up around him. As soon as it sealed he headed back his chair, seating himself moments after most of the bridge crew, and a bit before the Tactical Officer.
The Admiral waited, hands clenching the chair arms, sweat beading on his face despite the environmental system. He had been in battle before. Actually, many times, as his Empire rolled over the less advanced powers that had surrounded it. But this was the first advanced force he had ever faced. We outmass them eighteen to one. No matter how much more advanced they are, they won’t be able to gain advantage over that much firepower. Can they?
“The unknown ships will be in visual range in one minute,” called out the Tactical Officer.
The Admiral nodded, not wanting to speak for fear that his voice might leave him. Of course, if they had been in normal space they would have already spotted the unknown vessels. But photons tended to fall out of hyper before they traveled more than a couple of light minutes. Still, there were a trio of smudges centered in the viewer. Over time the distorted images clarified. Until, at just the moment the Tactical Officer had specified, the images were clear enough to make out.
What in the hell are they? thought the Admiral, as he leaned forward in his chair and studied the vessels. They were much leaner than the ships he was used to, missing the wings of grabber units that Imperial vessels carried. In fact, there was no apparent drive at all, normal or hyper. Unless that globe on the stern is the drive, he thought, looking at the glowing ball that was partially visible at the angle the ships were approaching from.
“Vessels have matched velocity and vectors,” called out the Tactical Officer. “Range in hyper, fifteen light seconds.”
Which doesn’t give them must time to react, thought the A
dmiral, tempted to open fire with his energy weapons. His lasers would reach them before they knew they were coming, while the particle beams would give them less than a tenth of a second. If he could take them out before they knew they were being fired upon?
“Incoming transmission, Admiral,” called out the Com Officer.
“From those ships?” he asked, realizing how stupid the question was. Of course it’s coming from those ships. What else is close enough to send a signal.
“I can’t localize the transmission point, sir,” said the Com Officer. “It appears to be coming from all around us.”
The Admiral felt another shiver of fear. This was like nothing he had ever experienced, nothing he had ever heard of.
“Put the transmission on the screen,” he ordered the Com Officer, and a moment later the image of a young woman appeared on the viewer.
“Admiral, Tounces, is it?” said the woman in accented Imperial.
“How do you know my name?” asked the Admiral, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the woman. She wore a skinsuit of some kind, and no helmet, her long red hair flowing over her shoulders like a torrent of fire. She doesn’t even have battle armor on, he thought.
“That is not really important, Admiral. What is important is that I have some questions for you? And I would advise you to answer. Truthfully.”
“I want to speak to your commander,” said Tounces, still not really sure what was going on.
“I am Commodore Pandora Latham,” said the woman with a cold smile. “I am in command of this squadron.”
“What is a woman doing in charge of warships?” asked the Tactical Officer from behind the Admiral.
“I heard that, Admiral,” said the woman. “You think we’re only good barefoot and pregnant?”
Tounces wasn’t sure what she was talking about. But in his Empire women were for the most part domestic partners, keeping house and raising children. Barefoot and pregnant? That does sound about right and proper, if she means what I think.
“I want to know about Watcher, and the ships that transported him into your Empire.”
“She means the Abomination,” said the Helmsman, looking back and forth between the viewer and the Admiral.
“I really don’t like that term,” said the woman. “But since you said it, they must have passed this way. How long ago?”
The Admiral stood up and walked over to the com, which was out of the viewing arc of the viewer at the present moment. “Order all ships to fire, on my signal.”
“Admiral,” said the wide eyed officer, looking up from his board. “How are they communicating with us in real time?”
Tounces felt another chill run up his back as he thought about what the man had said. There should have been a fifteen second one way delay in the com, half a minute both ways. Yet she was talking to him in real time, with no delay. Even if they had faster than light coms, he didn’t, so how were they communicating.
“Just send the signal. If there is enough of their remains after the wreckage gets kicked out of hyper, we’ll see what tech we can find.”
The Com Officer nodded and started to send the signal.
“I wouldn’t do that Admiral,” said the woman, and Tounces had to wonder if they were tapped into his com as well.
He stepped away from the station and looked at the woman, who was now seated in her chair, but the scene had changed. Now she was dressed in a sleek flat grey armor, helmet on her head, faceplate retracted. How in the hell did she get armored so quickly, he thought. He motioned with his hand at the Com Officer, and started his attack.
* * *
“I guess they weren’t about to listen to reason, ma’am,” said Dasha, speaking out of a side holo.
Pandi shook her head, which made her aware again of the helmet she was wearing. Niven, like every ship in her squadron, incorporated form fitting combat armor at every station. The chairs measured the proportions of anyone who might be sitting in them, and surrounded them with the battle armor that rose from their structures and clothed the crewman. Pandi had not really liked the system at first. To her it seemed creepy, like some kind of living machine capturing her. Now she was in love with the system, which had clothed her in the armor she might need in battle in less than a couple of seconds.
“As soon as they open fire, go to evasives and target the smaller vessels. Maybe after we take out his escorts he’ll be more reasonable.”
Dasha nodded, and the Com Officer sent the order to Vengeance and Avenger. They really don’t know what they’re facing, thought Pandi, watching the almost real time take from the recon drones that were stationed less than a light second from the enemy ships, arranged in a circle. Each drone carried a wormhole that was both a scan link that scanned the enemy ships, and a conduit that carried a minute bit of the launching ship’s hyperfield, allowing it to exist in hyperspace while not giving off a signal that was measurable against the resonances of the much more massive ships they were hovering near.
“We’re evading, ma’am,” called out Mandrake over the com, as the ship boosted at two thousand gravities into a random evasive pattern. Twelve seconds later the first of the beams struck, mostly empty space. The few that did hit a target were deflected by a electromagnetic field orders of magnitude more powerful than they were designed to deal with.
“Task force is targeting the smaller vessels,” called out Satyapathy. The tactical holo showed the disposition of the enemy ships, the smallest class blinking. The ships of the force were linked through their wormhole coms, each getting their targeting information and orders from the flag bridge.
The vessels closed with the enemy ships at two thousand gravities, moving in evasive arcs and bringing all their beam weapons to bear. They all opened fire at the same moment, sending lasers and particle beams into the New Galactic Empire ships. Where lasers struck they sliced through the electromag fields intended to reflect or dissipate their fury. These were not the beams they were intended to protect against, and the amplified light pushed through with a loss of maybe ten percent of their strength. Not enough. The beams sliced into the armored hulls of the ships like razor edged swords, alloy puffing into space and reflecting the otherwise invisible rays of light. Gas from the interior followed. The beams ate scores of meters into the destroyers, vaporizing metal, setting flammables aflame for the brief moment they had air to fuel them, cutting through the armor of crewmen and the soft flesh underneath.
The particle beams hit the hull travelling at just below the speed of light, imparting the kinetic energy of their antiprotons into the armor at the same time as they combined with the matter in spectacular explosions. The antiproton beams were much more powerful than the lasers, and were especially damaging when they struck areas already opened by the light amp weapons. Antiprotons flew into the interior of the ships, blasting apart bulkheads, reaching into the heart of the destroyers.
First one erupted with the actinic fire of containment breach, as some source of interior antimatter, warhead or fuel, was released into the matter filled interior of the vessel. The destroyer blew out into space, hull plates separating from the supporting structure, then those supports flying apart into superheated plasma. In an instant the ship was gone, and before it had finished spreading into space two more were following it into oblivion.
The three ships of Pandi’s squadron looped around the Imperial task force again, picking on another trio of targets. They were moving through space at a similar velocity and vector as the enemy force, their controllers keeping them accelerating on that vector as well as also shifting around the alien ships. Lasers and particle beams again did the job, and another three destroyers fell out of hyper as clouds of debris.
A laser struck one of the ships, Avenger. It was bound to happen with all of the beams flying through space. The beam, from one of the powerful laser rings of a battleship, hit Avenger’s shields by the port bow. The electromagnetic field attenuated the beam from ten centimeters to a couple of meters. The beam the
n struck the graviton field just under the first shield. That field was reactive, strengthening in the area needed as soon as it was struck. The beam would have blown through the armor of a ship of similar tech, and continued into the interior. Against Avenger it cut through about half the armor, and the destroyer danced away.
“All ships. Move to one light minute distance,” ordered Pandi, after breathing a sigh of relief before giving the order. It could have been much worse, she thought, looking at the damage on Avenger’s schematic.
The ships decelerated at two thousand gravities, racing away from the enemy, turning in mid fight to bring their forward tubes to bear.
“Enemy is firing missiles,” called out the Tactical Officer, as several hundred icons appeared on the plot, decelerating back at six thousand gravities and starting to overtake Pandi’s ships.
“Take the rest of the destroyers and cruisers under fire,” ordered the Commodore. “What’s the velocity on those battleships?”
“They will be at translation velocity in four minutes,” said Lt. Commander Basumatary from her Flag Navigation station.
And they’re sure to try to get back to normal space, thought Pandi, studying the plot as her own missiles appeared as vector arrows. No one wants to fight in hyper if they can help it.
Pandi’s missiles, twenty per ship, struck out at thirty thousand gravities, adding two hundred and ninety-four kilometers per second to their velocity, in addition to the deceleration of the Imperial vessels.
Three hundred enemy missiles came at the trio of vessels in two waves. The lasers started cycling immediately, knocking a dozen missiles out of space in the first ten seconds. From there, as the missiles got closer, the accuracy of the lasers increased, until, on final approach, each laser ring was firing four beams at a time, each unerringly striking a missile and converting the forward section into vapor. At that moment the warhead was breached, and the missile blew with a gigaton of force. Very few missiles made it through that barrage, and those that did were knocked out by the close in defense lasers.
Deeper and Darker (Deep Dark Well Book 3) Page 6