Adapt and Overcome (The Maxwell Saga)

by Grant, Peter

  He glanced across at Abha. She was watching him, clearly having heard everything over the console’s speakers. Glancing in the mirror over the console, he could see the Marines watching him with equal intentness. They’d been listening too.

  He took a deep breath. “Lieutenant, we’re abandoning the exercise. We’ve got pirates to deal with. Get your Marines ready for combat while I set this up.”

  “Aye aye, Sir! All right, Gunnery Sergeant Bradshaw, you heard that. Abandon exercise, prepare for a real fight!”

  “Aye aye, Ma’am!”

  Her senior NCO turned to the ready-use ammunition lockers and broke their seals as the others stripped the training target-designators from their beam rifles. He handed out live charges and grenades, the Marines and PSDF troops passing them from hand to hand until everyone had a complete issue. A basic load of such items was always stocked in shuttles’ ammo lockers for just such contingencies when on active service. They didn’t have heavier munitions along on this trip, but for shipboard combat they wouldn’t need them.

  Steve looked at the pilot. “Sergeant Higgs, circle that hilltop until I can set this up.” He indicated a conical peak ahead.

  “Aye aye, Sir!”

  Steve tapped commands into his console. Above the shuttle two more laser tight-beam communicator turrets rose from the hull. One trained around towards Mauritania, thousands of kilometers ahead and above, while the other aimed itself at the Orbital Control Center aboard the Elevator Terminal. As soon as their sensors detected his tight-beam, he knew both targets would slave one of their own laser communicator turrets to his, ready to receive his signal and respond.

  He checked the tight-beam circuits to the other shuttles, and pressed the ‘Transmit’ button. “Outpost One-One to Outpost Six and Outpost Three-One, close up and conform to my movements. We’re going to circle that hill ahead of us. Acknowledge. Over.”

  A momentary pause, then, “Six to One-One, understood, over.”

  “Three-One to One-One, acknowledged, over.”

  “One-One to Six, you heard that pirate transmission? Over.”

  “Six to One-One, I sure did! D’you mean to tell me that after all he did to you, and to those Fleet spacers, de Bouff is still around? Over.”

  Steve abandoned radio protocol. “The Fleet put a twenty-five-million-credit bounty on his head, but he dropped out of sight. He probably went to the far side of the settled galaxy, crawled into a hole and pulled it in after him. I don’t know why he’s stuck his head out again, but this time I want to cut it off! He’s in what appears to be a tramp freighter, judging by its gravitic drive signature. He’s obviously converted her to accommodate laser cannon. He says he has four, and that sounds about right – there’s not enough power in a tramp-size reactor to handle more than that. I doubt he’s installed a second reactor, because it’s hellish complicated to add another shielded compartment beneath the spine and incorporate it into the ship’s wiring harness after initial construction. He probably doesn’t have a warship’s sensors, either – only a standard merchant ship’s electronics suite, with a few primitive fire control systems added on. Agreed so far? Over.”

  “Agreed. You’re the ship-to-ship-combat go-to guy around here. You call the shots. Over.”

  “OK.” Steve silently thanked his friend for his faith in him. “We’re in stealth mode, not using locator beacons, observing radio and radar silence, and using active detection cancellation. I doubt he’s picked us up on his sensors. With so much masking, he shouldn’t be able to detect our gravitic drives with a typical merchant ship’s electronic suite except at close range. If he has something more sensitive that could be a problem, but there’s only one way to find out if he does. We’re going to have to get real close to him to use our cannon. That puts us at risk from his weapons, but I think I can mask our approach using EW so that he won’t see us until we’re within range. It’ll be risky, but that’s why they pay us these huge salaries.”

  Brooks interrupted, sniggering over the circuit. “Yeah, right!”

  Steve suppressed a wry smile. “Uh-huh. I plan to duck underneath him and rake him from stern to bow with our cannon. That should disable his ship and knock out its lasers. You and Shuttle Three stay behind me in echelon starboard formation, five hundred meters distance between shuttles. I’ll pass targeting information to your shuttles and slave your cannon to mine for a synchronized firing pass. As soon as it’s complete, both of you peel off and go balls-to-the-wall for the liner. Take out the pirates’ boats with your plasma cannon at low power, then board the liner through the docking bay. While you’re doing that, I’ll board the pirate ship with the Marines and PSDF troops on this shuttle. We’ll shut down her power, so she can’t interfere or escape, then sweep her compartments to make sure she’s no longer a threat. Over.”

  “What about her crew? They may outnumber you – probably will. Over.”

  “The pirate ship’s crew isn’t expecting that sort of trouble. Most of them probably won’t be carrying personal weapons. We’ll probably kill or injure a lot of them during our firing pass. They may still outnumber us, even so, but my people are in armor. We should be able to cope. Trouble is, there’ll be sixty to eighty armed pirates aboard those two small craft headed for Mauritania. They’ll be ready for a fight. Can your two shuttles’ crews deal with that many? Over.”

  Brooks snorted audibly. “I doubt they’re wearing armor – at least, I’ve never heard of pirates that did. That means they won’t have much, if anything, in the way of beam weapons or portable plasma cannon – it takes armor’s strength to carry them and their power packs. We’re in armor and have beam weapons, so we should be able to deal with them. The problem will be if they get in amongst the passengers, so they can hide behind hostages. Over.”

  Steve nodded to himself. “I’m going to talk to Mauritania directly about that in a moment, after I talk to OrbCon. Stay on circuit and listen in – you too, Outpost Three-One. Break.”

  He checked his console. Green lights were glowing to signify that both OrbCon and Mauritania’s systems had locked onto his tight-beam lasers and were waiting to receive. He activated the circuit to Orbcon, making sure the other shuttles were able to listen to it.

  “Outpost One-One to Orbcon. This is Senior Lieutenant Maxwell, Lancastrian Commonwealth Fleet. This is a tight-beam transmission – the pirates can’t monitor it. Put the Watch Officer on this circuit right now! Over.”

  A brief pause, then, “OrbCon Watch Officer to Outpost One-One, go ahead, over.”

  “Outpost One-One to OrbCon. I’m on my way up to orbit with three assault shuttles and a combined unit of Marines and PSDF NCO’s. I intend to take out that pirate ship, then send two shuttles to Mauritania to deal with the pirates aboard her. Request strike authorization. Over.”

  “Orbcon to Outpost One-One, negative! Negative! There’s too much risk to the passengers and crew of Mauritania! Do not attack! Over.”

  Steve rolled his eyes in exasperation. The Watch Officer was almost certainly someone of his rank, perhaps even junior to him, and probably had little or no combat experience. He was clearly way out of his depth.

  “Outpost One-One to Orbcon. How can we possibly pose any greater risk than the pirates to the passengers and crew of Mauritania? If you don’t know Johann de Bouff’s reputation, look it up! I’ve run into him before. If he captures Mauritania, the women aboard will soon be wishing they were dead, and the men won’t be much better off! Your destroyers and corvette are hours away, and as far as I know you don’t have any other armed force in orbit. We have to disrupt this attack before the pirates can secure hostages. If you won’t authorize a strike, get hold of a more senior officer who understands reality! Over.”

  “Orbcon to Outpost One-One. We can fire on them with our missiles if they try to leave orbit. Over.” The man’s voice was tremulous, uncertain.

  “Outpost One-One to Orbcon, negative, I say again, negative! Your missiles will kill as many hostages as they
do pirates! We’re your best – no, your only option. Over.”

  A new voice came onto the circuit, strong, deep, authoritative. “Break, break. This is Commodore O’Fallon. My callsign will be Rolla Six. Orbcon, stand by. Outpost One-One, the Operations Room at Defense HQ in Beaumont called me at home to alert me to this situation. They’re connected to OrbCon via the Elevator cables, and I’m piggybacking on your tight-beam circuit to talk to you, so the pirates can’t hear us. How do you propose to deal with these bastards? Over.”

  “Outpost One-One to Rolla Six. Sir, I think we can close with them under cover of our electronic warfare systems. Our plasma cannon should be able to disable their ship, after which we can board both vessels to take out the pirates. As far as I know, we’re the only force in a position to intervene. The pirates’ small craft will board Mauritania in ten to fifteen minutes. Once they’ve taken hostages, all bets are off. We’ve got to move now! Over.”

  There was a brief pause, then, “Rolla Six to Outpost One-One. I know you’ve seen combat, so you understand the risks. If they see you coming, at least some of you are likely to be killed. You also know how important the Group of 100 is to the future of this planet. Can you guarantee the safety of Mauritania and all aboard her? Over.”

  “Outpost One-One to Rolla Six. Sir, that sort of danger is why we’re here. I can’t guarantee anyone’s safety, or that there won’t be civilian casualties, but we’ll do our best to minimize the risks. I submit we have no choice but to stop the pirates from seizing the ship and her passengers and crew. Once they do that, no-one aboard her will be safe. This is your planet, Sir, and you have the final say about operations in your system. I formally request permission to proceed. Over.”

  Another pause, then a sigh. “Rolla Six to Outpost One-One, you’re right. The unit presently under your command is hereby designated Task Force Maxwell. By my authority as Commanding Officer of Rolla’s System Patrol Service, you are appointed in tactical command of all operations against the pirates until this situation is resolved. Your orders are to rescue those aboard Mauritania by any means necessary, with as few casualties to them as possible. You may use any and all SPS personnel and resources that you need. Deal with the situation at your discretion. Over.”

  Steve swallowed hard. He now officially bore sole and full responsibility for the results of his plan. He’d get the credit for it if it worked… and the blame if it failed.

  “Outpost One-One to Rolla Six, thank you, Sir. I’ll do my best. Stand by.” He took a deep breath. “Break. Outpost One-One to Orbcon, did you copy that? Over.”

  “Orbcon to Outpost One-One, copied, Sir. Awaiting your orders. Over.”

  “Outpost One-One to Orbcon. You are to refrain from any action unless and until I authorize it. Do not communicate with anybody, I say again, anybody about the presence of Task Force Maxwell or our intentions unless and until I authorize you to do so. Record all activity around the pirate ship and Mauritania. Form armed boarding parties of service personnel or Transit Police from the Elevator Terminal, including medical and evacuation teams. Have them standing by aboard whatever small craft are available, but do not launch them until I order you to do so. Once we’ve disabled the pirate ship, they’ll assist with neutralizing her crew and the pirates aboard Mauritania, under the tactical command of myself or Captain Shelby. Acknowledge. Over.”

  Orbcon rapidly read back his orders.

  “Outpost One-One to Orbcon, very good. Stand by. Break. Brooks, did you get all that?”

  “Got it, Steve. What next?”

  “Brooks, Warrant Officer Labuschagne, please have your people replace their exercise gear with live ammo and equipment from the ready reserve aboard each shuttle, and activate and load your shuttle’s plasma cannon with a full twenty-round cartridge. Set your weapons console to accept a firing plan for the cannon from this shuttle. We’re about to commence a storm climb. Conform to my movements. Acknowledge. Over.”

  Brooks and Labuschagne read back his orders briskly. Steve acknowledged their responses, tapped at his console, then turned to Sergeant Higgs.

  “Pilot, I’ve transmitted the enemy bearing, altitude and range to your console. Take us up at full blast, transition from reaction thrusters to gravitic drive as soon as the atmosphere’s thin enough to permit it, then level off just below the pirates’ orbital level and close on them. Adjust your course and speed as required so that we get there as fast as possible, arriving ten to fifteen clicks below and directly astern of them at a relative closing speed of four to five hundred kph. Got it?”

  “Aye aye, Sir! Passengers, brace for storm climb!”

  She gave everyone a brief moment to grab hold of something to steady themselves, then pulled back on the sidestick. The shuttle nosed upward into a vertical climb, the roar of its reaction thrusters redoubling into a scream of raw power.

  Rolla Orbitals

  July 19th, 2847 GSC

  Steve checked the electronic warfare systems. The pre-exercise program he’d instructed them to follow would serve well enough to get them close to the pirates. It was functioning as intended, and the tight-beam dish he’d aimed at Mauritania was showing a green light. He patched the tight-beam conversations into a single circuit so that Brooks could participate.

  “Mauritania, this is Senior Lieutenant Maxwell of the Lancastrian Commonwealth Fleet, calling on tight-beam. I’m commanding Task Force Maxwell, and my callsign is Outpost One-One. The pirates can’t intercept this transmission. Put your senior officer on this circuit. Over.”

  A pause, then, “Outpost One-One, this is Captain Packer, Commanding Officer of Mauritania. Go ahead. Over.” His voice was much stronger and more resolute than the one that had first responded from the liner.

  “Outpost One-One to Captain Packer. I’m on my way to orbit with three assault shuttles full of Marines and Rolla NCO’s. We’re going to neutralize that pirate ship, then send a boarding party over to you. Can you restrict the pirate boarders to your docking bay and engineering spaces, and seal them off from the passenger and crew areas? If possible, evacuate all your engineering personnel before they board, and transfer control of all engineering systems to the bridge – lock them out of the master engineering console altogether. If the pirates are stuck in your engineering spaces, our assault team can come in behind them and deal with them without endangering your passengers. Over.”

  “Packer to Outpost One-One, that’s great news! We’ll do it.” The relief in his voice was almost palpable. “Our docking bay is located abaft our engineering spaces, so that’ll work just fine. Do your Marines need help with the layout of the ship? Over.”

  “Take it, Brooks, over,” Steve replied briefly.

  Brooks’ voice crackled over the circuit. “Captain Packer, this is Captain Brooks Shelby, Marine Corps, callsign Outpost Six. If you can send us a schematic of your docking bay and engineering spaces, that would help tremendously. Also, I presume you have security vidcams covering those areas. Please keep track of the pirates from your bridge, and let me know where they are when I board you, so I can direct my Marines accordingly. You’re a Commonwealth ship, so I presume you use standard suit radio frequencies? Over.”

  “Captain Packer to Outpost Six. Yes, we do. I suggest Channel 147 for communication. It’s high enough on the spectrum that the pirates aren’t likely to be using or monitoring it. Over.”

  “Outpost Six to Packer, agreed. Maintain radio silence on all frequencies until I tell you otherwise. Meanwhile, I’ll train my own tight-beam on your ship so I can talk to you directly, rather than through Lieutenant Maxwell’s shuttle. As soon as my circuit is active, please send your schematic. We’ll be with you in ten to fifteen minutes. Don’t be alarmed if we hammer the two pirate small craft on our way in. I don’t want to leave them an avenue for escape. Over.”

  “Packer to Outpost Six, understood. Please try to minimize damage to this vessel, as best you can. Evacuation of our engineering spaces has begun. We’ll seal them off as soon a
s everyone’s out. I’m standing by for your tight-beam. Over.”

  “Outpost Six to Packer, thank you, Sir. Break. Steve, what now? Over.”

  “Outpost One-One to Outpost Six and Captain Packer. Do not, I say again, do not communicate anything over a non-tight-beam radio frequency about this. I don’t want the pirates overhearing anything. Also, I don’t know what might happen when we hit the pirate vessel. I’ll try to avoid her reactor compartment, but if her fusion reactor lets go, the blast will render the radio spectrum unusable for a while. If that happens, all shuttles are to dock with Mauritania to deal with the pirates aboard her. All stations, monitor this circuit and stand by for further orders.”

  As he bent to his console once more, Abha said quietly, “Sir, would you like to have a few words with our Marines and Rolla personnel?”

  “Good idea, thanks.” He smiled at her, seeing the answering warmth in her eyes, then twisted around to look at the load compartment. As he did so the scream of the reaction thrusters died away, to be replaced by the high-pitched whine of the gravitic drive unit. The shuttle’s acceleration ratcheted upward, its inertial compensator keeping those aboard from being squashed flat against the bulkheads. He knew they’d be up to their target within minutes, now that the planet’s thick atmosphere no longer held back the shuttle.

  The Marines and NCO’s were holding beam rifles in their hands, stocks planted firmly on the deck. The training projectors had been removed from their muzzles, and he knew they were now fully charged with live beam generation and power packs. Gunnery Sergeant Bradshaw, the senior NCO aboard, caught his eye, grinned savagely, and held one thumb up. “We heard what you said, Sir. We’re ready!”

  “Good. We’re going to board that pirate ship after we’ve shot her up, while the other two shuttles head for Mauritania to take care of the pirate boarding parties. You’ll have a nest of pirates to smoke out, but I think many of the survivors are going to be too busy trying to stay alive to worry about fighting you. Lieutenant Sashna will lead the assault as soon as we dock. Their hull’s going to have a lot of holes open to space, so don’t expect to find much internal atmosphere. In fact, to save time, don’t bother using their airlock at all – just blast it open with your beam rifles. First order of business is to secure their engineering spaces, so I can shut down their power if it’s not already off, and make sure they can’t switch it on again. After that we’ll wait for reinforcements from the Terminal, then sweep forward to check the rest of the ship and arrest the survivors. When we’ve secured the ship, I’ll send at least some of you over to Mauritania as soon as possible to assist Captain Shelby. Any questions?”