by Chris Hechtl
His frown deepened as he gamed that last thought out. Yes, it could happen like that, which meant hunting just got a lot more dangerous. He didn't like that. Nor did he like the orders to head to Charon and raid the enemy's shipping. If the enemy's warships were masquerading as civilian traffic, it could doom him and his ship.
“Bugger,” he muttered as he tried to consider his options. He could pretend he didn't get the orders, no, the damn Tortuga base had him on record as receiving them. Frack, he thought darkly. Well, no one said he had to get there fast, just under his own power. That was fine; he'd just take his sweet time and do some hunting along the way.
If he ended up hearing rumors of enemy warships hunting in the area he was headed for, well, he'd just let them push him to safer hunting grounds too.
Chapter 58
Admiral Butley in transit
Once the ship was in the rapids, Admiral Irons did his usual downtime to catch up on the download of ansible information from B-102c. He had little to do other than read the briefs from Sprite. There were a lot of them as usual. He had learned to par things down to the summary of each and only delve into further detail if something sparked his interest.
For instance, the news on Second Fleet. He was obviously not happy with the situation, but he was glad Amadeus had taken steps to resolve the situation in his rear. They'd count the breakage later. He was also in grudging approval of the renewed offense. Amadeus was right; they might have waited too long.
And in a way, it was his fault. He'd put both of them on a leash while he'd been away. He should have trusted that they'd get the job done. Lesson learned.
Hopefully, he thought wryly.
In concert with that was his plan to let V'r'z'll off the leash. He'd already given her the objective of moving on Garth in support of Second Fleet. She was to use her discretion to attack New Horizon with her lighter forces as a feint, nothing more. She was to only launch her offenses once she had the prowler's report back however. He had left out the part of consolidating her force.
He skimmed some of the reports and then turned his attention to matters closer to him. Like all of the officers on the ship with him as well as those that had been sent on ahead.
Most of the passengers would be left behind in B101a1 to make their way to Pyrax and their eventual destinations on normal shipping. He planned to take a selection with him on the courier back to Antigua. Most likely it would be Admiral Creator of Things, Georgi, and maybe one or two of the other flag officers.
Rank did still have its privileges he thought.
He was still of two minds about the Neowolf/mutt. Georgi didn't quite faun over him but he did seem anxious to please. He could understand that in a way, but after what had just happened in Pyrax, he was wary of it.
It was good to see a Bekian flag officer wanting to get the job done however.
Unfortunately, his bouts with the other officer on the flag bridge had shown him that the admiral was rusty when it came to tactics and strategy. His skill set may be limited to administration. He would have to see when they got to Antigua.
The other Bekian admirals had been marginal in the Tactical Department. Admiral Creator of Things tended to be distracted easily. It had been annoying but then amusing to see the T'clock stop a simulation to take apart a ship in virtual reality to see how it was put together.
In a way, the admiral had a point he reminded himself. None of the Bekians had experience with hyperspace or starships. They knew what their own sublight ships were capable of but needed to learn about the other ships. Besides, he couldn't help but admit he didn't mind indulging in showing the bug many of the features of the ship's design.
Perhaps that had been a strategic move? He frowned as that sudden thought erupted in his mind. It was possible, a distraction since the bug had known he was out of his element. He wasn't certain though if it had been planned … he shook himself, discarding the notion.
He felt the ship shudder but barely noticed it. When the shuddering stopped, he returned to his ruminating until a sharp buck nearly knocked him out of his seat. “Report,” he said as he rose to his feet only to have to reach out from getting knocked off his feet. “Something's wrong with the inertial dampeners,” he growled.
“It's everywhere, Admiral. The ship just hit a gravitational string. It appeared in the ship's path before the helm team could avoid it. There is some bow damage,” Proteus reported, surprising him. “Admiral, there is some fluctuation in the number two fusion reactor.”
“Help them,” the admiral growled as he used his hands to steady himself as he made his way to the door. “Frack this,” he growled, engaging his implants in his legs to act as magnetic clamps. “I should float but I'm not sure what that'll do to the ship's systems. Where do they need me?”
“The bow, Admiral. Sensors have been knocked offline.”
“Frack,” the admiral growled as his door opened. Tom looked in, clearly concerned. He ended up grabbing the door jamb to keep from falling over.
“We're going to help damage control,” the admiral said as he made his way out.
:::{)(}:::
“The bow damage is extensive, Admiral.” Proteus reported as he walked and then began to trot and then to run to the bow. “Shields have been partially restored in that area but are thin. Sensors haven't been restored. The ship cannot see in front of them. Also, the chief engineer was forced to scram the number two reactor due to an instability issue.”
“Crew?”
“Twelve people injured. There are hull breaches in the bow. Air is leaking out. The area is partially evacuated, but it is difficult to put the excess passengers elsewhere,” the A.I. reported.
“Damn,” the admiral muttered. He scanned the systems report and noted the structural damage. “Are they patching some of this?”
“DCC parties are on it. But the priority is the sensors.”
“Agreed.”
“We are translating down octaves now, Admiral. The chief engineer wants to exit hyperspace,” Protector interjected. “I just heard it.”
“Don't! Contact the captain now. He knows we can't do that! Once a ship enters the rapids, there is no dropping out! It's suicide!”
“Admiral, we can't see, our long-range sensors are out. The crew are fishtailing the ship from left to right to give us some view with the broadside sensors, but it's not enough,” Astro said as a window on his HUD opened up.
“I'm on it,” the admiral growled.
“With respect, what can you do from the inside?”
“A lot more than you think,” the admiral said. “Make a hole!” he bellowed to the men and women obstructing his path. “Move it now!” he snarled. Bodies flew to the bulkheads as he barreled through to the bow.
“The first break is here, Admiral,” Proteus stated. “I can't tell any other damage without getting into the system personally. I'm feeding you what Ensign Butley has but even he can't see it all. Sensors are down in the area.”
“Understood,” Admiral Irons said grimly as he popped through the open hatch. He surveyed the situation instantly, noting the swearing bosun trying to get a bulkhead open to get at a wiring trunk. “Make a hole,” Irons growled.
“We're waiting on a cutting torch, Admiral,” the bosun said.
“It's here,” Admiral Irons said as he signaled his arm to morph into a torch. He hefted it and then lit the plasma tip. “Where?” he asked. Proteus put an icon up on his HUD. “It's between there and the open access trunk? Typical,” he grumbled as he brushed past the sailors and touched the plasma torch to the bulkhead. Sparks and molten metal sputtered as he cut through the bulkhead. The sailors who had been banging impotently on the bulkhead or trying to locate the break reared back in surprise.
Once he had a hole large enough for his arm, he used a magnetized fingertip to touch the cut panel and remove it. Then he stuck his right arm again and turned it over to Proteus.
Proteus took control of his body and practically shoved his arm i
nto the hole up to his armpit. He felt the searing heat on his ribs and shoulder before his pain sensors were cut in those areas. No doubt the nanites were working on it, but he didn't have time to spare on such minor things.
Apparently nor did Proteus as the A.I. sent a surge of nanites into the data trunk. Air whistled past them, letting them know there was rupture somewhere in the trunk's cavity. He grimaced. “Close the hatch behind us,” he ordered as his nanites breached the data cable's sheaths and began to scuttle along it, looking for the breaks. Wherever they found them, they patched them.
“Sir … what are you doing?”
“Making a rough fix,” the admiral replied as the XO arrived on the scene. “Do I have to repeat myself? We're losing air here, close the hatch!” he snarled.
The XO blinked and then ordered a hatch further away to be closed. “The torch is here,” the XO said.
“Focus on other problems. I've got this,” Admiral Irons replied. “Or, I should say Proteus does,” he said as the A.I. began to withdraw the nanites.
“Cable patched,” the A.I. reported.
“Whatever you did, Admiral, that fixed part of our problem but half of our bow sensors are still out. I'm afraid they aren't there anymore,” Captain Astro stated a moment later.
“Half of the bow sensors are out. I need to get as close to them as I can,” Admiral Irons said as Proteus relinquished control of his body and let him up. He straightened. “You can patch that. Soon,” he said, indicating the hole he had cut. “No time for finesse,” he muttered.
“Not a problem. You really fixed it?”
“Yes. The bow sensors …”
“This way,” the XO said, indicating out the way they had come. They went down the corridor as far as it would go and then had to stop. There were compartments on either side, but they led to a communication room on the port side and no door on the starboard.
“This is where the forward point defense is or part of it. It and the bow missile tubes extend down into the next deck,” the XO explained.
“I know. I designed the ship,” the admiral said as he looked around. Proteus helpfully overlaid the blueprints on his vision. He frowned. “I need a step stool to get up there,” he said, looking up. His right arm rose and morphed into a cutting torch. It began to cut. “In the meantime, tell the bridge to fire up that point defense turret.”
“What for, sir?”
“For her sensors of course. It's not much but it is something at the moment,” the admiral said as he sliced the panel open. He grimaced when he removed it to find molten plastic and a bit of smoke. In his haste, he'd cut a centimeter too close to a few things he shouldn't have. Fortunately, they were data lines to the communications array.
Which was most likely trashed he thought as he looked into the compartment with his enhanced vision. There was a sucking sound as air was pulled in. He held onto the panel then put it back at an angle.
“We're going to need suits here. How are we going to be able to do anything from the backside, Admiral?” the XO asked as the chief engineer arrived on the scene.
“Status on the bottle, Chief?” Admiral Irons asked as a sailor brought a ladder in.
“We had to shut her down, sir,” the chief said. “We've lost two of the bow force emitters, Admiral, both of them dorsal.”
“Anything we can do to help?” Admiral Creator of Things asked.
“If you don't know what you are doing, get out of the way for those who do,” Admiral Irons said without looking away from the task at hand.
The sailors got the ladder set up but then one of them wearing a mask and carrying an emergency backpack shot up it first to patch the breach. Admiral Irons shook his head. “Frack it,” he said, turning on his grav drive. His artificial legs glowed blue, and he rose up past the sailor on the ladder. He glanced at the sailor who was using a caulking gun to plug some of the gaps with expanding foam. The foam was getting sucked out of the breach however, almost as fast as it was coming out of the caulking gun. He knew from experience it was a losing battle.
“Clear,” Admiral Irons growled as he reached in with his right arm and began to make repairs to first the wiring around him, and then reached out with his left hand to touch things to allow nanites to flow through them to make repairs there.
Once the tangle of wiring had been more or less sorted out, he grimaced. “Proteus, we're going to have to take this one step deeper as in making repairs from the inside out to the sensor array. Is there anything left?” he asked.
“Some, Admiral.”
“Do what you can.”
“I'll need materials,” the A.I. replied.
“Take what you need. Send the ship's A.I. a list of raw material for the crew to draw from stores if you need it. Whatever it takes.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
For nearly an hour, he floated there beside the sailors trying to patch the cracks in the hull.
“I don't even want to know how you are doing that,” chief engineer said from below him, voice tinged with awe. Admiral Irons looked down to him and then went back to concentrating on the work at hand.
:::{)(}:::
“I don't want to jinx it, but I think we're going to make it,” the chief engineer said over the link to the captain.
“Good work, Chief.”
“I'd love to take all the credit, Skipper, but it was the admiral.”
“Which one?” the Neo Great Dane asked.
“Admiral Irons. It's like magic, sir. That cybernetic arm of his is a godsend. He's doing something with the bow sensors now. We're bringing him materials from stores. They go up and just … gone. I don't know what he's doing with them. Eating them for all I know,” he said.
“Don't worry about that. Whatever he's doing, it's making a difference. We've got three-quarters of our sensors back,” a CIC tech reported. “We're working on refining them now. It will be rough, but it should get us the rest of the way home.”
“Good to know.”
:::{)(}:::
When he was finished, he slowly floated back to the deck and stepped aside to let a series of robots up to help patch the hole. He looked around and then smiled to the XO. “Proteus did what he could. It isn't perfect but it should get us out of the rapids.”
“As long as we don't run into another string,” the XO said in an aggrieved tone of voice.
“Yeah, what happened there?” the admiral asked.
“From what I saw, there were these two masses and we were passing through them—shadow masses. But one rotated a bit and suddenly there were these strings, almost like a web going out between them. Damndest thing I've ever seen. I mean, I saw the tangle before, but I didn't know they could just appear like that.”
“If I could hazard a guess,” Protector said slowly. “I've been monitoring the conversations on the bridge as well as the sensor data of the incident. I believe the ship created a bridge between the two shadow masses. The strings were those connecting fields forming. Think of it as a piece of conductive material being stuck between two terminals.”
“It arched,” Admiral Irons said with a nod.
“Exactly. That is the closest analogy I can come up with given my understanding of the situation,” the A.I. replied.
“Better than me, I only got a C in hyperspace navigation,” the XO muttered.
Admiral Irons smiled briefly.
“The chief is working on bringing reactor two back up. Something got addled though. We also have reports of injuries across the ship, most of them from people being knocked about or things getting knocked on them. We have some minor repairs, and we've put out both fires.”
“Good,” Admiral Irons replied.
“We've got a couple more power outages and some issues but I think …,” the XO paused.
“What?” Admiral Irons asked when the XO stopped abruptly.
“I'm not going to say it.”
“Say what?”
“Jinx us, sir. It's too soon.”
“Ri
ght,” the admiral drawled, catching on. “Good call.”
“Thank you, sir.”
:::{)(}:::
Antigua
“He's out!” Sprite said, clearly glad Admiral Irons was no longer in the nexus.
“By he's I'm taking it you mean Admiral Irons?” Monty asked her.
“Yes, sir,” Sprite replied. “The Admiral Butley has just been reported as exiting the rapids. I have just received a script bot informing me Admiral Irons is transferring to Federation One.”
“Good.”
“Well, you are no fun,” Sprite teased.
“Don't take me wrong, Sprite. I'm glad he's out of the nexus, and I'm glad he's on the way home. Thank you for the input. Can we get back to the matter at hand now?” he asked plaintively.
“If you insist,” she replied with her version of a sigh.
“Good,” the commodore replied as he exchanged a smile with Commander Lake. “Now, we obviously didn't learn a lot form the ships that were scuttled recently.”
“Other than their names and the confirmation that no prisoners were taken,” Commander Lake replied with a grimace. “ONI personnel are not on the scene. We are getting basic information from the interrogations but nothing really earth-shattering. They are remarkably quiet about matters in Dead Drop.”
“Well, to be fair we haven't authorized the teams there to give them any information to prime the pumps,” Monty replied. “And yes,” he held up a forestalling hand, “I know why. I don't need the lecture.”
Commander Lake closed her mouth and then nodded ruefully.
“I don't see any justification in sending a special courier to Second Fleet with the news at this time, nor do we need to keep them up-to-date at the moment.”
“So, we wait until they set their ansible up again? Or send a courier back with news?” Sprite asked.
“Pretty much. I understand the courier transport is moving at her own speed behind them as she did before. If he has a long stop in Dd01ns, we might hear from them again. Otherwise, I believe the admiral won't report in again until he takes Dead Drop.”