by Ryk Brown
“Very well,” Commander Telles said. “A shame, really. He had a natural ability.”
“Would you like to speak with him?” the master sergeant wondered. “Maybe try to convince him to remain?”
“No,” the commander insisted. “I do not wish to command anyone who does not believe in what they are doing. Mister Daymon has made his choice. He can live with the consequences.”
* * *
Captain Poc exited his office and headed down the short corridor to the Kent’s command center. He had only been in command of her for three weeks, but it had already become his home.
He had expected it to feel far more foreign, being that it was a nearly completed, captured Jung frigate. However, the Cetian technicians had done their best to make it feel less like a Jung ship and more like the Alliance ship it now was. The interior color and lighting scheme matched that of the Explorer-class ships, and all of the labeling throughout the vessel had been replaced with English translations. Even her exterior seemed more Alliance than Jung, as they had decided not to apply the black and red color scheme to her hull, instead leaving her exterior with only the gray primer coat that was given to each hull component before it was added to the ship. The result was not pretty, but it did not look like a Jung ship, which was an important distinction in Captain Poc’s mind.
It was a small ship, only two thirds the size of the Explorer-class ships, and a large portion of that space was taken up by missile storage. The actual, pressurized, crew-accessible areas of the ship took up less than a sixth of her overall mass. In fact, so much of the ship was automated, it only took thirty people to fill out a standard, operational shift.
Still, a crew of one hundred and twenty was much larger than anything he had ever commanded, and he was still getting used to using the standard, operational command structure. He had spent the last two decades running a crew of eight, including himself, and had gotten quite set in his ways.
Luckily, he had been able to bring his entire crew from Scout One along with him to his new assignment. Having the familiar faces on his senior staff and in his command center made the transition easier, without a doubt. They had only pulled out of the shipyard above Sorenson a week ago, but they were already feeling quite comfortable in their new roles.
“Good morning, Captain,” Commander Jento greeted as the captain stepped through the hatch into the Kent’s command center. The commander was standing at the planning table at the aft end of the command center, reviewing the details of the upcoming mission using the table’s 3D projection system.
“Commander,” Captain Poc replied, stepping up next to him at the planning table. “How are we looking?”
“We’ve received the go order from the Aurora. Targets are as expected. We execute on schedule.” The commander looked up at one of the overhead view screens, checking the mission clock. “We jump in three minutes.”
“I trust all systems are operating properly?” the captain asked as he turned to move forward.
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well. Sound general quarters,” the captain instructed as he headed forward.
“General quarters, aye,” the commander replied.
Captain Poc moved forward, walking between the elevated tactical station and the deck-level stations to his right. The Kent’s command center was tight, despite the fact that ten to twelve people at a time were expected to work in the compartment.
The captain stepped up onto the elevated platform to his left, tucked in behind the center helm console that divided the navigator from the helmsman. He took his seat in the command chair, reached forward, and pulled his console toward him, locking it in place just within his reach. Unlike the command chairs on the Explorer-class ships, or the Jar-Benakh, his chair did not rotate. His chair also had interface consoles and data displays on both arms, as well as on a console that he could pull in tight in front of him. It wasn’t much, but it was better than sitting there without anything to do with his hands, a skill, that by his own admission, even Gil Roselle had not yet mastered.
The other skill he was finding difficult was the art of letting someone else fly his ship. He had been a pilot for nearly thirty years, the last twenty-three of which had been in the same ship. He may have spent much of that time in stasis, but he was still his ship’s pilot. Now, he was a decision maker. A giver of orders.
Captain Poc looked to his left, forward, and to his right. Because of his chair’s fixed, forward-facing position, he could only see four of the seven people he would normally talk to while in his command chair. His sensor officer, navigator, helmsman, and communications officer. His tactical officer, weapons officer, and electronic countermeasures officer were all behind him and out of his line of sight. This, however, he was accustomed to, as most of the crew on his previous ship had been out of his sight from that ship’s cockpit. And just like every other Alliance ship, everyone wore comm-sets that automatically linked with the others in the compartment.
The main display for the Kent’s command center was composed of three large view screens that spanned the forward bulkhead of the compartment, just above the flight control consoles at her forward end. The center screen was primarily used for exterior camera views, while the angled side screens were set to display tactical data relevant to the ship’s current task.
The captain glanced at the mission clock in the upper left corner of the starboard view screen. They were one minute from their jump time.
“All compartments report general quarters,” the comm officer announced.
“Insertion jump in Kappa Ceti is plotted and ready,” Ensign Vitko reported. “Jumps to second and third launch points are in the queue.”
“Thirty seconds to insertion jump,” Commander Jento announced as he turned away from the planning table at the back of the command center. He climbed the two steps onto the tactical platform, and took his seat at the console directly behind and one step above his captain. He checked his own displays, and then looked at the three main displays at the front of the compartment, verifying that the proper data was being displayed.
Captain Poc checked the time again. “All right people, let’s see what our ship can do. Make ready all missile launchers.”
“Deploying all missile launchers, aye,” Ensign Cafasso acknowledged from the weapons station.
“ECM and jamming systems ready,” Ensign Wilday announced.
“All systems are running normal.”
“On course and speed for insertion jump,” the helmsman, Lieutenant Serra reported.
“Ten seconds to jump,” the navigator warned.
“Execute insertion jump as scheduled,” the captain instructed.
“Jumping in three…”
“Missile launchers deployed and ready…”
“Two…”
“Missiles show ready for launch…”
“One…”
Captain Poc stared straight ahead at the center view screen.
“Jumping.”
The center view screen flashed a subdued blue-white, then returned to normal. The stars had changed, but the difference was almost imperceptible. The only noticeable difference was the sudden appearance of a distant, reddish-orange, gas giant to the left of center.
“Jump complete,” the navigator reported.
“Multiple contacts,” Lieutenant Todson reported from the sensor station. “Transferring to tactical.”
“I’ve got them,” Commander Jento said. “One battle platform, a battleship, four cruisers, and six frigates… All of them right where they’re supposed to be. Same courses and speeds, as well.”
“Stand by to jump to second launch position,” Captain Poc instructed. “Commander, launch the first wave.”
“Jump to second launch position, plotted and ready,” the navigator replied.
“Launching first wave of missiles,” Commander Jento reported from the tactical station.
Captain Poc watched the tactical display on the left view screen, as multipl
e missile tracks appeared on one side of center and began tracing outward in several different directions.
“Six missiles away,” Commander Jento reported.
“Execute your turn, Lieutenant Serra,” Captain Poc ordered.
“Turning to second launch point,” the helmsman acknowledged.
“Jump us when ready.”
“Jumping in three…”
“First wave of missiles will jump in one minute.” Commander Jento reported.
“Two…”
Captain Poc glanced at the system-wide tactical display on the right view screen. The frigates they had just attacked were more than five light minutes away and were not yet aware that an enemy ship was in their system. Their first sign of danger would be the arrival flashes of the incoming missiles, only seconds before they found their targets.
“One…”
It was the ultimate standoff weapon, and in thirty seconds, he would add six more missiles to the attack, but from the opposite direction.
“Jumping.”
“Hey, Lok, do you ever think about what you’re going to do after this is all over?” Josh wondered.
“I imagine we’ll be doing pretty much the same thing,” Loki replied as he double-checked his displays one last time before they jumped. “I suspect we won’t be getting shot at as often, however, which is a good thing.”
“So, you see us staying in the Alliance?”
“Yup.”
“Here in the Sol sector?”
“Wherever they assign us, I suppose.”
“I don’t know. From what I hear, there may not be an Alliance in the Sol Sector,” Josh said, “at least not forever.”
“Don’t believe everything you see on the net,” Loki warned. “One minute to insertion jump.”
“That guy Galiardi has got a lot of people backing him now, and they don’t like the Alliance that much.”
“And what are they going to do without it?” Loki asked. “Half the crews on both the Aurora and the Celestia are from the Pentaurus sector.”
“They’ve got two ships,” Josh argued. “Five, if you count the ones from Tau Ceti. And they’re pumping out a Super Eagle every few days now.”
“And most of the weapons are being either manufactured or converted for use on the Karuzara,” Loki added. “Without that base, Earth doesn’t stand a chance.”
“Now, maybe, but what about a few years from now? The Earth has thousands of Takaran fabricators. They can build whatever they want. Hell, they can make their own asteroid base. It’s not like they’ve got a shortage of big-ass rocks to hollow out.”
“Still don’t see it happening,” Loki insisted, “at least not in the next ten years.”
“Well, suppose it does. Then what?”
“Someone will offer us a position,” Loki said.
“Someone will offer you a position,” Josh corrected. “I’m a pain in the ass, remember?”
“What are you getting at, Josh?” Loki asked, turning to look at his partner.
“Just thinking about the future, weighing my options, and all that.”
“You’d have more options if you weren’t always pissing off Prechitt,” Loki told him.
“Yeah, like that’s ever going to happen.”
“It can if you want it to happen.”
“Maybe I don’t?”
“What?”
“Maybe I don’t want to play by the rules. Maybe I’d be more happy somewhere else.”
“Like where?” Loki wondered. “You want to go back to Haven and fly harvesters?”
“I was thinking of something a little more exciting,” Josh replied, “like being an interstellar smuggler or something.”
“You’ve been watching too many of those old Terran, science fiction movies again,” Loki told him. “Besides, you need a ship to be a smuggler.”
“I could steal this ship,” Josh said.
Loki just looked at him.
“I’m kidding, Lok.”
“This ship does have a black box, you know.”
“I was kidding!” Josh yelled, as if to an invisible listener. “I’m sure I could find a ship somewhere. Go back to the PC, find a flying gig, save some money.”
“You’re dreaming again.”
“Okay, then maybe as a mercenary pilot, for some pirate band or something.”
“A space pirate.” Loki rolled his eyes. “That’s a really good career choice.”
“I dunno,” Josh replied. “It could be fun.”
“Can we get serious, Josh? We’re jumping in and attacking enemy targets in ten seconds.”
“Fine, we’ll talk later,” Josh said.
“I can’t wait,” Loki replied sarcastically. “Jumping in three…”
“Two minutes to insertion jump,” Mister Riley reported from the Aurora’s navigation station.
Nathan turned back toward Jessica, leaning against the side of her console as they continued their conversation. “If Galiardi’s group gains enough support, it could very well lead to a fracturing of the Alliance into two or more elements,” Nathan insisted.
“Come on, Nathan,” Jessica argued, “there’s no way that’s going to happen.”
“You really believe that?”
Jessica looked at Nathan as he stood leaning against her console, staring at her. “Okay, maybe it’s possible. Maybe the Alliance splits in two, but there’s no way it happens quickly. The Earth needs the Karuzara to survive. Until they build something to replace her, seceding from the Alliance would be suicide.”
“Not if they managed to get the other members in the Sol sector to side with them,” Nathan said.
“Split the Alliance in two… Sol and Pentaurus?”
“Exactly. Tau Ceti has a shipyard more capable than the Karuzara’s, and they’ve got the industrial capacity and work force to support it. And, Tau Ceti and Sol are within single jump range of one another. In fact, all of the core worlds are within one-minute jump range of Sol, and they all have significant industrial capacity as well.”
Jessica stared back at him, contemplating his words.
“Imagine it happens,” Nathan said. “Who are you going to side with?”
“There’s no way I’m working for Galiardi,” Jessica answered without hesitation.
“But your family is here.”
“It’s not like we’d be banned from ever returning if we decided to work for Dumar instead of Galiardi, or whoever they put in command.”
“Who knows?”
“One minute to insertion jump,” Mister Riley reported.
“You know what your problem is?” Jessica said. “You think too much.”
“It’s my job,” Nathan said, standing up straight to return to his command chair. “I’ve got no buttons to push.”
“You’re the only dork I know who would talk about interstellar politics while waiting to launch an attack,” Jessica added.
“Hey, show some respect, Lieutenant Commander,” Nathan joked as he took his seat.
“Six jump flashes,” Mister Navashee reported. “The KKVs have jumped away.”
“A lot of Jung are about to have a really bad day,” Jessica muttered.
“Jump point in ten seconds,” Mister Riley warned.
“Execute insertion jump on schedule,” Nathan ordered.
“Aye, sir,” Mister Riley replied. “Jumping in three…”
“Launching second wave,” Commander Jento reported from the Kent’s tactical station. “Six missiles away.”
“Execute your next turn, Lieutenant,” Captain Poc ordered.
“Changing course toward third launch point,” the helmsman replied.
“Reloading missiles,” Commander Jento said. “Ready to launch again in one minute.”
Captain Poc glanced at the mission clock again. In ten seconds, their first and second wave of missiles would jump to their targets, likely destroying all six Jung frigates. However, their next group of targets, the cruisers orbiting the system’s only g
as giant, were too far away from the frigates or the Kent to be aware of what was happening. But that would only last three and a half more minutes. In thirty seconds, the jump KKVs launched by the Aurora and the Celestia would strike the battle platform and the battleship, destroying them both. The Kent’s job was to attack the frigates and the cruisers, destroying as many as possible in the first few minutes of battle. After that, she was to stand off at a safe distance and await further orders, while the Jar-Benakh and the Cobra gunships finished off anything that managed to survive.
“On course and speed to third launch point,” Lieutenant Serra announced from the helm.
“Missiles are jumping,” the sensor officer reported.
“Jump point in ten seconds,” the navigator added.
“Reload complete,” Commander Jento reported from the tactical station. “Eight missiles ready to launch.”
Everything was running like clockwork. Their first two rounds of missiles were already slamming into their targets on the other side of the Kappa Ceti system. In a few seconds, they would jump to their third launch point and unleash eight more jump missiles on the still unsuspecting Jung cruisers. Meanwhile, the Aurora and the Celestia would jump into orbit on opposite sides of Terravine and begin their orbital attacks.
“Execute your jump,” Captain Poc instructed calmly.
“Jumping in three…”
“Jump complete,” Mister Riley reported from the Aurora’s navigation console. “We’re in high orbit over Terravine.”
“Green deck,” Nathan ordered.
“Green deck, aye,” Naralena replied, as she passed the order on to the Aurora’s flight operations center.
“Multiple contacts at Terravine’s first gravity point.” Mister Navashee reported. “Jump flashes as well…twelve of them. Multiple impacts.” Mister Navashee shook his head. “They didn’t stand a chance. All six frigates are destroyed, sir.”
“I guess the jump missiles worked,” Nathan commented.
“Coming up on first three surface targets,” Jessica announced from the tactical station.
“Flight ops is reporting the Super Falcons have destroyed all STO sites and are moving to patrol orbits for escape intercepts,” Naralena reported.