Destroyer (Expansion Wars Trilogy, Book 3)

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Destroyer (Expansion Wars Trilogy, Book 3) Page 13

by Joshua Dalzelle


  "We'll be within range of the forward laser battery within … twelve minutes," Accari said.

  "OPS, keep a sharp eye to make sure he doesn’t spin about once we get close and use that plasma lance," Jackson said.

  "Yes, sir," Hori said. "I have the high-res radar feed coming to—transition flash!"

  "He's gone. Maintaining high-power scans of the area," Accari said.

  "Captain, we have an incoming message from Fleet HQ down on Arcadia … they've detected our weapons fire and targeting radar scans. They want to know who we are and what's going on," Makers said.

  "Maintain condition 1SS," Jackson said. "Helm, come about and take us back to the Pontiac … all reverse one-quarter. Let's bleed some of our excess velocity off in the turn. OPS, fire up our beacons and Coms, tell Fleet that we've pursued a Darshik warship from the Kirin System here and we advise they assume a heightened state of alert."

  "Aye, sir."

  "Tactical, what's the status of our four wayward missiles?"

  "I can't get a valid response from them, sir," Accari said. "They just send back garbage to any query I send."

  "Understood," Jackson said. "Have the munitions backshop work that problem; you and CIC concentrate on finding the enemy ship."

  13

  "Get the hell out of here! Go! Go! GO!!"

  Danilo ran against the current of scientists and administrative personnel racing for the lifeboats. A second explosion reverberated through the hull and the lights flickered and dimmed for a moment. The missile that the Nemesis hadn't been able to intercept had slammed into one of the most heavily armored parts of the old destroyer, the hull being almost four meters thick of solid alloy at that point.

  Unfortunately, the nearly century-old hull was no match for a modern penetrator missile. When the warhead had detonated after pounding the hull with enough force to liquefy the metal, the shockwave had blown huge pieces of shrapnel loose from the inner surface. The ballistic projectiles blasted through the water lines and control systems for reactors one and three. The damage to the pressurized side of the water jackets caused the chamber to be flooded with superheated steam, making it impossible for crews to enter and manually shut down the fuel feed, not that it would have helped. The fuel that was left in both fusion reactors was more than enough to cause a meltdown with cooling removed.

  Captain Aumann had ordered them to abandon ship without hesitation and had activated the emergency beacon to broadcast a mayday to all area ships. But as others fled to the safety of the lifeboats that would blast away from the stricken ship on liquid-fueled rockets, Danilo and two others were fighting to get to the cargo hold. The Cube had to be saved at all costs … the Vruahn material might actually survive the destruction of the Pontiac and they couldn't afford to let the device fall into Darshik hands.

  "Go prep the shuttle! We'll meet you there!" Danilo shouted to the shuttle pilot/helmsman that had been running with him. The young man veered off to the right and sprinted down the short access tube to the hangar bay. When Aumann had commanded an evacuation, the computer automatically blew the hangar bay outer hatches off into space, so if they could just get the Cube loaded into one of the cargo shuttles there was a chance to get clear of the Pontiac before the real destruction began.

  "Hello, Administrator Jovanović," the Cube said as they ran into the cargo hold. "Two reactors on the vessel are about to go supercritical … you should be aboard a lifeboat already. It is not safe to be here."

  "Gotta save you first," Danilo said, throwing the support equipment out of the way and powering up the cradle that the Cube rested on. Thankfully he had insisted that the batteries on the machine be maintained even though it was assumed the cargo hold would be the Cube's permanent resting place. The linear actuators whined and the cradle rose smoothly up off the floor as Danilo extended the "follow me" handle and began to walk towards the yawning hatch that led to the main starboard access tube. The cradle followed along dutifully as Danilo ran as fast as the bulky machine would allow.

  "This is not wise, Administrator," the Cube said. "I can assure you that my outer casing can survive a worst-case-scenario blast from this vessel's fusion powerplant. You should leave me behind and then recover me from the wreckage. After a decontamination, it will be as if nothing happened."

  "There's also an enemy ship in the area that we think wants you," Danilo said. "Now just shut up and let me do this!"

  "The Darshik have discovered the location of this vessel," the Cube said, ignoring Danilo's request. "The odds of that are very slight unless they had outside help."

  It took less than two minutes to get from the main cargo hold to the shuttle launch bay since the two were positioned close to each other for obvious reasons; a ship underway needing to reprovision had to be able to do so quickly and efficiently.

  "Let's fucking GO!" The shuttle pilot was waving his arms wildly in front of Shuttle Three's open hatch. The air was starting to get hot and smelled of burning electronics and tasted metallic by the time Danilo led the cradle up the shallow ramp and into the cargo hold of the shuttle. The other technician slapped the controls to close the hatch and then initiated an emergency departure sequence since there was nobody in Flight OPS to release the docking clamps.

  "We're free! Go!" Danilo shouted as he threw a heavy cargo net over the Cube and fed the ends into the auto-winches located along the edge of the hold.

  "Engines up! We're out of here!"

  The shuttle blasted away from the docking collar with a screech of metal on metal and was at full power by the time they cleared the gap where the outer launch bay doors would normally be. The pilot didn't let up, angling them away from all the lifeboats and debris as he put as much distance between them and the Pontiac as possible.

  "Go dark!" Danilo shouted over the engine noise. "No coms or transponders until we hear from Captain Wolfe that the area is clear!"

  "Engines too? We're almost at maximum velocity anyway."

  "Then yeah … shut ‘em down and drift."

  "You think they'll come back for this thing again?" the tech in the hold asked, obviously regretting his decision to come along.

  "Without a doubt," Danilo said. "But it'll have to fight through a Valkyrie-class destroyer with the Federation's best starship captain at the helm first."

  The tech looked at Danilo with a dubious expression, but said nothing in the face of the administrator's obvious hero worship.

  Jackson took a moment to watch the main display as the last Raptor-class destroyer went through her death throes. He wasn't necessarily proud that he was responsible for losing half of the four Raptor hulls that had made up the old Ninth Squadron. The hull of the Pontiac undulated and expanded amidships before there was a final, intense burst of light that washed their optics out. Once the visual came back up, the ship had broken up into six large pieces and innumerable smaller chunks that would make search and rescue a nightmare.

  "Sir, we have a cargo shuttle drifting away from the wreckage on a ballistic arc at high speed, much too high for it to have been blown free when the reactors went," Accari said. "Picking up residual thermals on the engines that tell me it was flown out of the hull and now they're dead-sticking it. No radio emissions of any kind."

  "Can we intercept it?" Jackson asked, suspicion growing about who, and what, was in that shuttle.

  "Yes, sir," Lieutenant Hori spoke up. "But it's within the shuttle's performance envelope to come about and fly to us. Shall we hail them?"

  "Negative, OPS," Jackson said. "Nav, send a precise rendezvous course to the helm. Coms, inform Flight OPS to prepare for shuttle recovery. Tactical … find me that enemy ship. There's no way he gave up this easily."

  "Course plotted and locked in, sir."

  "Helm, fly the course at your discretion," Jackson ordered. "I want the Nemesis brought up alongside so we can quietly recover the shuttle and then clear the area."

  "Aye aye, sir," the helmswoman answered. "Engines answering all ahead one-quart
er."

  Jackson appreciated her cautious approach given what was almost certainly inside that shuttle's cargo hold. Celesta Wright had told him that Specialist First Class Kyra Healy was far and away her best starship driver, and so far Jackson was impressed. She had a natural feel for how a multi-million-ton ship moved in space and understood the nuances of an RDS as opposed to the plasma-thrust MPDs. It simplified combat ops when he could simply tell her to manually fly the destroyer to a certain point rather than have Navigation provide her precise instructions for every movement.

  It took the Nemesis another three hours to run down the shuttle and come up alongside. A quick visual inspection verified that the ship had a pilot in the cockpit and appeared to be completely undamaged from its escape. Through the optical sensors they could see the pilot looking over and gaping as the Nemesis slid closer.

  "Try to hail them via the short-range laser," Jackson said. "Get an identification."

  "Stand by, sir," Makers said and slipped his headset up. He could be heard talking quietly for a moment before he turned back to Jackson.

  "Three crew from the Pontiac, including Administrator Jovanović," he said. "They're also carrying what they called 'critical research equipment.'"

  "Understood," Jackson said with a smile and heaving a sigh of relief. "Tell Flight OPS that they're clear to begin two-way communication with the shuttle and recover it."

  "Aye, sir."

  Over the next fifteen minutes Jackson watched as the shuttle maneuvered so that its aft end was facing the Nemesis's yawning hangar bay hatch and began slowly thrusting towards them. Recovery was a routine, yet delicate operation. While the ships seemed to be stationary, in reality they were hurtling through space with a relative forward velocity of nearly two hundred and fifty thousand kilometers per hour. Even under such tense conditions, Jackson preferred slow and steady to avoid any deadly mishaps.

  "Transition flash!" Accari called. "Verified profile for the Specter … he's two hundred and eighty thousand kilometers and closing fast."

  "Status of our shuttle recovery?" Jackson asked.

  "Five more minutes to hard dock," Hori reported.

  "Tactical, bracket and lock on two Shrikes," Jackson said. "This is going to be tight … he must be desperate to hop in so close."

  "Shrikes one and four, locked on and updating," Accari said. "Forward and starboard laser batteries … locked on and tracking. Intercept in sixteen minutes if acceleration remains constant."

  "It won't," Jackson said. "OPS, I want to know the instant that shuttle is secure and we're clear to maneuver."

  "Aye, sir."

  For the next few minutes they watched the Specter come at them on a direct intercept course. He had to know what they were recovering to fly right into their teeth like that. Jackson had to assume it was just dumb luck that he'd arrived right when they were in the middle of a recovery op and couldn't accelerate to a comfortable engagement speed. As powerful as the Nemesis was, she was still a virtual sitting duck until they could move.

  "Shuttle secure! Hangar bay doors closing now," Hori said.

  "Specter accelerating again," Accari said almost simultaneously.

  "Helm! Drop the hammer!" Jackson nearly shouted. "All ahead emergency."

  Specialist Healy slammed the throttles up to the stops and the crew was slammed back into their restraints even as the collision alarms automatically sounded through the ship. The Nemesis roared ahead, the lights dimming as all non-essential power was shunted to feed the main drive.

  "Turn into him!" Jackson barked. "Accari, fire Shrikes!"

  "Shrikes away! We're going to pass too close to—"

  "Laser batteries, fire!"

  "Enemy is deploying its plasma lance, turning in to meet our charge!" Hori shouted.

  Jackson clenched up as they met the enemy. His ship's laser cannons opened up first with their greater range, blasting away the ablative coating and boiling away hull armor like it was water. Just as they were within the outer range of the enemy's primary weapon, Specialist Healy rolled the ship to port to expose the heavily armored ventral surface and then, relative to the Specter's course, dipped the bow in a maneuver it couldn't match. It overflew them at breakneck speed, but not fast enough to avoid the starboard and aft laser batteries from shredding into one of the pontoon structures hanging off the side of the ship on heavy pylons.

  "Bring us about! Cut velocity and put our bow on him!" Jackson grunted in his restraints.

  "Enemy ship is extending and leaving the engagement, sir," Lieutenant Hori said. "I'm not sure—transition flash!"

  "Enemy ship isn't showing up on radar," Accari said. "CIC is reporting we caused significant damage to its starboard flank."

  "Damage report," Jackson said.

  "Zero damage to the Nemesis … the enemy missed thanks to the helm's outstanding flying," Chambliss said. "Fifteen crew injured from our initial acceleration, two seriously. No casualties."

  "Maintain alert," Jackson said. "Helm, chop power … steady as she bears. Nav, get us up and away from the Pontiac's wreckage and along the system boundary. We'll report in with Fleet HQ here and then decide what our next move is. We wounded him, but we didn't kill him. Tactical, what the hell happened to my Shrikes?"

  "Same as before, Captain," Accari said. "They tracked to the target and just overflew it. These two aren't answering commands either; same failure mode as the others."

  "Tell Munitions that I want an answer on what the hell is wrong with our ship busters and I want it immediately," Jackson said, struggling to control his temper.

  "Aye, sir."

  "Let's go ahead and get second watch up here and continue monitoring the system." Jackson rose to his feet on shaky legs, his prosthetic leg vibrating as the actuators tried to compensate for the trembling. He had never fought an engagement like that: two massive starships going head to head at close range and hammering on each other. That sort of maneuvering would have been completely impossible with the older classes of Terran ships … that was more akin to fighter aircraft trying to turn in on each other for a kill shot. The adrenaline rush was like none he'd ever experienced.

  "XO, you have the bridge, I'm going to go check on our guests."

  "I have the bridge, aye."

  14

  "Greetings, Captain Wolfe."

  "Glad to see that you made it unharmed," Jackson said to the Cube as it was rolled down one of the main access tubes from the hangar bay to a secure cargo hold.

  "I am pleased at your concern," the Cube said.

  "You're a rare piece of equipment," Jackson said. "I'd hate to explain to CENTCOM why I allowed you to be destroyed or lost."

  Danilo gave Jackson an exasperated look at that. The Cube would usually clam up and pout, for lack of a better term, whenever Jackson was rude or insulted it. He really couldn't explain why he did it. At first it was because he felt silly talking to the block like it was a person; now, he had to admit that it was apparently something else.

  "That would be unfortunate," the Cube said. "Given the poor performance ratings at certain points in your career, it would not be outside the realm of possibility that you would lose your command over one more significant failure. Allowing me to fall into enemy hands would certainly qualify."

  Jackson almost stopped walking at the retort. Apparently the machine had continued to evolve in his absence. It had never given such outward displays of attitude before.

  "In all seriousness, I am happy you're unharmed," Jackson said, deciding it was wiser to mollify the mysterious, sentient computer rather than escalate things with another insult. "You've been extremely helpful since working with us and I appreciate it."

  "Thank you, Captain," the Cube said after a pause long enough Jackson was afraid it thought he was being sarcastic. "I have enjoyed my work and I am glad that it is appreciated. Administrator Jovanović mentioned that you had some new raw data for me to analyze?"

  "Let's get you secured and set up in one of the cargo hold
s here and then we'll get the hell out of this system," Jackson said. "Once we're sure you're out of reach of the enemy ship, we'll begin feeding you the raw data to see what you make of it."

  "I look forward to the challenge."

  It took the better part of three hours to get an auxiliary cargo hold cleared out, the Cube rolled in and secured to the deck, and a security detail in place with armed Marines courtesy of Major Baer. Through all the frenzied activity the Cube sat silent as it was rolled into the center of the now-empty hold and anchored down.

  Jackson called in Commander Fredric Walsh, the Nemesis's Chief Engineer, and asked for all the necessary support equipment for the Cube to begin chewing through the data they had for it. It was still powered by the Vruahn's quantum power matrix, a system that allowed them to transport power instantaneously across space regardless of distance, and Jackson was worried that one day they would realize the machine not only still existed but was drawing power and cut it off. He had no idea if losing power would destroy the emerged consciousness or if humans even had the ability to duplicate the type of power it required. All the more reason to get it up and running as soon as possible.

  After he had made sure the Cube was secured and that the three men on the cargo shuttle were given the proper access codes and quarters, Jackson left the cargo bay and went back to the bridge. They had no real lead on where the Specter might have gone, or even how badly they'd bloodied it, so mounting a pursuit was pointless. The smartest thing to do given their current circumstances would be to haul ass for the DeLonges System and turn the Cube over to CENTCOM. After that they could decide where they wanted to stash it again or if it was simply too great a risk allowing it to continue to exist. The ethical implications of that last thought made Jackson all the more eager to get the damn thing off his ship. He wanted nothing to do with what would no doubt be a very heated debate.

 

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