The Hope Island Chronicles Boxed Set

by PJ Strebor

  No shame in running, fleeing disaster, even in pitch darkness. Better to flee from death than feel its grip.

  Agamemnon, in Homer, The Iliad, c. 800 BC.

  Date: 29th July, 326 ASC

  Position: On course for Midway.

  Status: Adroit transiting hyperspace.

  After transiting hyperspace south for an hour, Adroit and Deception egressed and set course north-west. The ploy had been for the benefit of the Pruessen landing boats sitting in orbit and undoubtedly observing their heading.

  Ensign Leah Perrie hoped they would make the obvious assumption and report that Adroit and her consort, the mystery boat, would be making a run for the southern frontier. Now, within the shipping lanes for Midway, they would, hopefully, be identified as just another light freighter.

  Leah had been assigned to gray watch, 2400 hours to 0600, holding down the helm while Lieutenant Okuma got some much overdue rest. The skipper had been badgered by the D-O to do the same. Telford and Okuma were the most obvious of friends, yet the skipper had left her to die on the Saint Joan base. Leah doubted if she could have made the same agonizing choice. They worked as a team with such cohesion that it boggled her mind. It seemed as if they could read one another’s minds. She wondered if they had a thing going on between them but wisely chose to keep her mouth shut on the subject.

  She admired the skipper’s decisive nature. He didn’t procrastinate, he acted. Captain Winstone’s incompetency shone like a lone star next to Telford’s no nonsense approach. He’d get his own boat one day and Leah hoped to be part of his first crew. She sniffed. Yeah, you’ve got a lot to learn before that happens.

  Lieutenant Ruvera had hacked into the base computer back on Saint Joan, and downloaded a massive amount of intell. Including star maps of the entire Pruessen Empire. Without them, Adroit would be flying blind.

  “Helm report.” Lieutenant Rudderman held down the D-O’s position while Ruvera rested. After an eventful two days most of the crew were tucked away in their racks, leaving a skeleton crew to look after the boat. While in hyper nothing usually happened.

  “On course, sir. I’ve allowed for hyper drift,” she added hastily. She’d forgotten to do so last time and Rudderman, not a fun character at the best of times, had reamed her. “We are seven point two hours from our egression point.”

  “Very well.” Leah heard him yawn. Knowing how contagious a yawn could be she fought the compulsion to copy him.

  Grey watch was worthy of a yawn, but someone had to keep an eye out for the boat. Leah rubbed her eyes. The tactical readouts were tied into her panel so the momentary blip caught her attention. She sharpened the image, using passive readings only.

  “Lieutenant, I have a reading, sir.”

  “What? Ah, do you know what it is?”

  “Not at this stage. It’s another vessel. I don’t think it’s on the same harmonics as us but I’m not sure. Should we contact the Captain?”

  “Are you kidding?” Rudderman said. “If I don’t, he’ll tear strips off me.”

  The Lieutenant reported the situation to the skipper and a few minutes later he stepped onto the bridge. His hair hung loosely and his feet were bare. With his usual purpose he strode to the tactical station and rubbed sleep from his eyes, before examining the readings. Within a minute he’d made his decision.

  “We’re in the shipping lanes to Midway so we’ve probably got a freighter ahead of us.” He rubbed the bump above his right eyebrow. “Helm, reduce speed to two-thirds and maintain.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “And keep an eye on her, Leah,” he said. “Let me know of any changes, immediately. Understood?”

  “Yes, Captain,” Leah said.

  “Good.” He stood and brushed hair from his face. “Well done, you two. Keep at it.”

  And just like that he returned to his quarters.

  CHAPTER 27

  Date: 2nd August, 326 ASC

  Position: On course for Midway.

  Status: E boat, E 911 transiting hyperspace.

  Eight days and no sign of the Athenian boats. With hundreds of ships covering the southern frontier, and more on the way, they could not have slipped through the blockade. Captain Reinhardt sipped his coffee while contemplating his enemy. He’s a slippery one, that Hans. But I’ll get you. The Pruessen Captain had an ace up his sleeve that Hans wouldn’t see coming, until it was too late.

  “First, you have to find him,” Reinhardt conceded. “Now, if I was an Athenian trying to get home, and a smart sneaky one at that, what would I do?” He examined the three dimensional star map of the sector for the tenth time. “Yeah, I’d head away from the most obvious escape route. Try to stay undetected. But I’d have to turn south eventually. So where?”

  Reinhardt was smart and knew it, but he lacked combat experience. He keyed his mike. “Captain, might I have a word.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Captain Kramer stepped into the briefing room. “How may I be of assistance to you, sir?”

  “I need a fresh perspective,” Reinhardt said. “A military appraisal, if you will.”

  Kramer nodded.

  “You are an enemy captain trying to escape Pruessen space, but the most direct route,” he highlighted the approaches to Francorum and Athens, are heavily blockaded. You are in the finest stealth boat in Tunguska. Where would you cross the frontier?”

  Kramer examined the map for a minute.

  “Am I a risk taker?” Kramer asked.

  “Most definitely.”

  “There,” he said, pointing to the spot on the frontier.

  “Yes, that’s risky all right,” Reinhardt said.

  “If I had half the Pruessen the navy searching for me, that risky option would look mighty appealing.”

  Yes it would, to him. “Thank you, Captain,” Reinhardt said. “Set course for the Poseidon Shoals.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  Reinhardt stared at the map and smiled.

  CHAPTER 28

  Date: 7th August, 326 ASC

  Position: On course for the Poseidon Shoals.

  Status: Adroit transiting hyperspace.

  “We’ll hit the shoals in ten hours, Captain,” Moe reported. “I suggest we egress in eight hours and charge our buffers.”

  “Very well,” Nathan said.

  “Scans are clear, Captain,” Willet said from tactical.

  “Good to hear.”

  Everything looked fine but Nathan could not escape a feeling of uneasiness. Something on the boat felt wrong. He’d been sensing that for the last twelve days but had been unable to isolate it. And something about the shoals didn’t ring true either. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.

  Ensign Perrie and Lieutenant Rudderman stepped onto the bridge. The youngsters had done well and almost never disturbed his rest time.

  “Reporting for gray watch, Captain,” Rudderman said.

  “Very well, David.” Nathan wanted to yawn but held it back. Yes, get some sleep, recharge the buffers and make a run for home through the shoals. Still the uncertainty lingered.

  ***

  “Zero-five-thirty hours, Captain,” the SMC said.

  “Very well.” Nathan swung his legs over the side of his rack and groaned. He should be refreshed by his five and a half hours sleep, but a troubled sleep is an incomplete one. He showered and shaved before stepping onto the bridge.

  “Good morning, David.”

  “Good morning, Captain.”

  “Anything worth mentioning?”

  “On gray watch?”

  Nathan chuckled. “Leah, are our scans clear?”

  “Aye, sir. I haven’t spotted anything since we turned south.”

  Nathan would only get worried if they spotted another vessel. No one, bar the odd foolhardy headhunter, approached the shoals.

  “Very well, carry on.”

  He stepped into the mess minutes later.

  “Mornin
’, skip,” Delano said. “What can I tempt you with today?”

  “Something less poisonous than your usual foul concoctions would make for a nice change, cookie.”

  “I have some of that square head bacon left and one egg.”

  “Better include some toast with that. If I’m going to yack it up I’d like some variety in the texture.”

  “Not a problem, skip.” Delano grinned. “Just give me a few minutes.”

  Delano wasn’t a bad cook but tradition demanded that he receive nothing but the very finest criticism.

  Nathan prepared his morning coffee, with the prerequisite quantities of sugar and cream, before joining Moe.

  “Did you sleep all right, for a change?” she asked.

  “Eventually.”

  Moe too had gone for the bacon option.

  Nathan rubbed his bump.

  “Hey, don’t worry,” Moe whispered. “It’s a good plan. With any luck we’ll be in friendly space by tomorrow.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re not getting one of your feelings again, are you?”

  Nathan nodded.

  “Nate,” she whispered, “I’m not saying to ignore your instincts but really, what could go wrong? We’ve had zero contact with any shipping for days, so unless the square heads have suddenly become clairvoyant, they won’t know we’re here. Right?”

  He nodded then took a sip of his disgusting brew. Grace joined them.

  “Some bugger beat me to the last egg,” she complained.

  “You get that,” Nathan said.

  ***

  “Buffers are firming up, Captain,” Grace reported. “Three hours till they’re fully charged.”

  “Very well.”

  “Captain, grab a couple of hours sack time, like everyone else,” Grace said.

  “I’m fine.”

  “No Captain, you’re not,” Grace said. “It’s pretty obvious to me that you haven’t been sleeping well. We need you sharp if we’re going to get through the shoals. I’ll keep an eye on things. So, sir, respectfully, git.”

  Nathan snorted. “Aye, aye, ma’am.”

  She was right of course. His fatigue had seeped through to his bones. The burden of command required more of him than he could have imagined. Nathan fell onto his rack and fell asleep immediately. Sometime later the alert alarm woke him. Wiping his eyes he stepped onto the bridge and dropped into his chair.

  He stared at Grace until she looked from her readouts. “Hyper egression points. Five of them, dead ahead, right on top of the shoals. On passive I’m getting fuzzy readings. It’s almost as if –”

  “They’re stealth capable?”

  She nodded.

  Moe stepped through the hatch and hovered between the two of them. Grace explained the situation to her. She gritted her teeth.

  “How?” Moe asked.

  “It’s the how that’s worrying me,” Nathan said.

  ***

  “Full active scans, Captain,” Reinhardt ordered.

  “Aye, sir,” Kramer replied crisply. “Tactical, full active scan.”

  Reinhardt rested the special detector on his console and engaged it. No readings. Probably too far away. If the Athenians knew he’d bugged their boat they would shit themselves.

  “Sir, I’m getting nothing on scans.”

  “Very well,” Kramer said. “XO, signal to E 799 and E 801 to commence search pattern baker. The rest of the squadron will guard the entry to the shoals. Helm ahead one-third.” He swung around in his chair. “Sir, how close will we have to get before your, ah, device picks up a signal?”

  “Pretty close. This bug was a last minute thought on my part. I didn’t have time for anything fancy.”

  “Still sir, it gave us a rough location before it cut out. And from hyper as well. It must be very advanced tech.”

  “Yes.” The Pruessen navy had, for many years, gained technical assistance from an anonymous source. Reinhardt didn’t care who they were. If it helped place Hans within his grasp, he’d deal with Satan himself.

  ***

  Grace was as good a D-O as Nathan had served with. After nearly two weeks working side by side she had learned to read his moods. From the stolen glances she shot his way she knew of his concerns. At least he didn’t have to worry about Deception. She’d been sent out of harm’s way. Her stealth capability made Adroit look like a pulsing beacon. Nathan keyed his L-M.

  “Senior engineer - Captain.” A slight pause while Tollini responded. “How are the buffers looking.”

  “They’re getting there, Captain. Another hour and a half and we’ll be topped up.”

  “Is there any safe way of fully charging them to maximum in the next ten to fifteen minutes?”

  “Safely, sir? No.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I figured. Captain out.” He rubbed at his bump again.

  “Adroit’s a twenty-year-old boat, Captain,” Grace said. “She would have been put out to pasture years ago if the polys hadn’t cut our budget. Again. She doesn’t have the refinements of a newer model.”

  He nodded and checked his plot. “If they keep coming at the same rate we’ll fall under their sensor envelope in fifteen to twenty minutes.” His voice was a whisper. “Alert one, but keep the shields down.”

  He began slowing his breathing, slipping into a meditative state. He concentrated on the star map of the surrounding region, his forehead creasing. He sharpened his focus. Something there, something benign. A safe harbor perhaps? Maintaining his focus he walked from the briefing room to the helm.

  “We can’t just sit here,” Moe whispered.

  “Slowly, bring us about on a heading of 324. Tactical, we are moving the boat. Watch the enemy for any change.” While Rudi acknowledged Nathan braced himself.

  Using subtle tweaks from her starboard mag plating Moe brought Adroit onto the new heading. They waited. No change from the enemy.

  “If they spot us don’t wait for an order. Understood?”

  Moe nodded as her hand hovered over the thrust controls. “Both stealth engines active, Captain.”

  Nathan took a deep breath, exhaling it noisily.

  “Both ahead, dead slow.”

  “Answering both ahead dead slow.”

  Nathan sensed the tension mounting throughout the boat. Three against one were lousy odds. Five would be fatal.

  “Tactical, any change?”

  “Negative, Captain. They’re still approaching at one-third speed.”

  “Helm, ahead one-third.”

  The seconds ticked by as the boat gained speed. Nathan’s back flared.

  “They’ve spotted us Captain,” tactical yelled. “All three boats have increased speed and changed their headings to intercept us.”

  Nathan held onto the back of Moe’s chair as power poured into Adroit’s engines.

  “Port five,” he whispered.

  As Moe made the course adjustment she asked, “Anything you want to share?”

  “Don’t know yet.”

  “They’re closing with us, Captain,” Willet said. He kept his nerve pretty well for a grommit.

  “Rudi, full active scan of those boats,” Nathan ordered.

  “Senior engineer - helm,” Moe said.

  Over his command channel he heard Amos reply. “Tollini.”

  “Amos I need more power to the engines. Take the reactor twenty percent over the red line.”

  “No ma’am.”

  Nathan sighed as the bargaining began.

  “I’ll give you ten,” Tollini said.

  “Fifteen.”

  “Done.”

  Moe winked at Nathan.

  “Captain, I have a report,” Willet said.

  “Go.”

  “Sir we have three E boats pursuing us. Two are Jackal class attack boats the third is undesignated. She’s an escort boat sir. Fighters.”

  “A brand new boat by the look of it,” Moe said. “Wi
th top of the line tactical upgrades. No wonder she spotted us.”

  “Good report, Rudi. Now scan the region of space directly ahead of us. Let me know of anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Marine one - Captain.”

  “Noffke.”

  “Report.”

  “We’ve got the L50’s fitted Captain, but this Pruessen tech is proving to be tricky.”

  “We might need them so make it work, marine. Captain, out.”

  “Captain, enemy boats are continuing to close with us,” Willet said. “Estimate eleven minutes till we fall within their torpedo envelope.”

  “Very well.”

  “I should be in the combat sphere, don’t you think?” Moe said.

  “Go.”

  Nathan took over helm and with only one working hand made subtle adjustments to their heading. What the hell’s out there? He sensed the first spatial distortion and raised the port dorsal. The boat shuddered.

  “SMC – Captain.”

  “SMC.”

  “Give me a secure channel with Lieutenant Okuma.”

  “Confirmed. Channel open.”

  “Moe?”

  “That felt like an eddy.”

  “Class two, I’d guess.” A sudden flair of pain in his back. “Port fifteen.”

  Nathan lurched over as Moe swung the boat away from danger. He struggled to strap in.

  Bringing up the stern feeds he saw the enemy boats entering the area of spatial disturbance. The lead boat, the escort boat, maneuvered around the eddies with apparent ease. The E boat’s helm must be very good. The other boats did the same until the attack boat to starboard hit something. She fell behind as the other two continued to close. The light carrier did a full axial rotation. “Damn good flying,” Nathan conceded. Looking through the view hood he switched to bow optical. “Something’s not right,” he whispered.

  “Like what?” Moe asked.

  “Zero minus thirty degrees.” Adroit’s nose dropped.

  The disturbance must be massive. He felt nothing but danger from dead ahead.

  “And another thirty.”

  The throbbing on his spine eased. They continued on for two minutes before passing the eddy. “Zero plus sixty.” Maybe, just maybe.