Then he pushed the throttles to the floor and locked them.
Chapter 48
Haad was already on the hangar deck when Captain Orr sent him the coordinates.
“Sir, do you want to think about this? He’s going to be hard to overtake.” Orr said.
Haad adjusted his helmet mike and grunted. “You just get our men from the Lake Tahoe back in safe hands. Leave this coward to me. Our boats are twice as fast as his. I’ll overtake him well before the fold.”
“As you wish, admiral,” the captain said. “At least take a few men with you. You never know what might happen once you run up his tail pipe.”
“Negative. This madman started this whole thing because of his hatred of me and Captain Yorn. I have to finish this myself.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
“Open the lock, captain. Make me a hole.”
“Roger. Higgs burnout in ten seconds.”
Haad hovered the courier boat two meters from the hangar deck. He punched in the supplied coordinates from the bridge and waited for the all clear. Yellow warning strobes flashed and the huge bay door eased up silently.
Twenty seconds later he was accelerating away from the Kona Coast and Rauud Mithie. Haad eased back on the yoke as he applied thrust to the engines. Once past the circulating WIN ships he nudged the throttles almost wide open. His boards showed all green. He would make Dyson threshold in nine minutes. His target, Bale Phatie’s escaping ship, was eight minutes ahead. He was headed straight for the Flame Nebula and points unknown.
Haad radioed his ship. “Make sure you track Phatie’s boat. I’m following his plume and closing. Wherever he goes, I’m following. Should be in cannon range in, say, four minutes. Keep your eyes open and get aboard that alien ship. Get into her computer system and see where they hid the Lake Tahoe, Mister Orr. Do not wait for me to return, get going on the rescue as soon as you have reliable information.”
Orr acknowledged the transmission and told Haad the two transport shuttles were away, headed down to the planet.
Haad expected Phatie to try evasive maneuvers of some sort, but the escaping shuttle craft kept its course true. Haad was now only two minutes away from effective firing distance. He was closing fast and he took time to arm his laser nose cannon.
“Dyson threshold in six minutes,” his console announced. Haad checked his speed and eased the throttles closer to the maximum. No way he wanted to slide past the Varson warlord but he had to intercept him before the fold. Once the renegade hit the Dyson limit, all he had to do was wiggle the stick on that ship and he could go anywhere.
When the distance between the boats narrowed to only a few hundred thousand kilometers, Haad noticed the tail of the Varson vessel start to yaw. He was flapping his tail at Haad in an attempt to throw off his targeting computers. Haad pushed his throttle handles one notch further toward the deck.
Target acquired. His board lit up with flashing lights and a fuzzy blip in the middle of his navigation screen was suddenly surrounded by concentric circles of decreasing size. Light yellow cross-hairs blinked on and off. He was getting close.
Haad rested his hand on the weapons panel and waited. Thirty seconds later he had a solid tone and the circles on his screen stopped decreasing and flashed rapidly. He had lock. Haad opened fire.
“Dyson threshold in two minutes,” the navigation console said. Haad lowered his eyes to look at the numbers. Old habit. Once within the fold, he would need to lock into his memory the exact spatial coordinates of the entry point. Since he was not going to enter folded space he reached for the throttle handles.
During the split second his eyes were off the targeting screen, the fleeing Varson ship did the unexpected. The madman tried to execute a high-gee turn right in front of Haad’s courier boat. Haad fired his cannon, leading the Varson ship by two seconds.
He was surprised when the Varson ship returned fire from her aft guns. The energy was scattered due to her speed and didn’t score a direct hit on the courier, but the bunched space forward of her bow was solid enough to transmit enough energy into Haad’s boat to start her spinning.
“Dyson threshold in one minute.”
Haad struggled to control his boat. The spin was not severe enough to cause any structural damage but it was enough to plow her forward, out of control, only seconds away from an unwanted jump. He looked at his screens and saw the Varson ship bleeding fire from her nose. One of his bursts had hit the target. The Varson shuttle was slowing and falling away. His spin prohibited him from getting a good view of Phatie’s ship. Was the strike severe enough to stop that madman? His thoughts shifted quickly to his own plight. He had to at least pull back on the throttles to prevent his courier from entering the fold. He reached for the handles and his boat shuddered before he could grab the handles. A latch came loose above him and something hard and heavy landed squarely on the back of his head. His hand was only a few millimeters from the throttle and instead of pulling back on the handles he lurched forward from the unexpected impact and pushed them to the floor.
“Dyson threshold attained,” his navigation computer announced.
Admiral Uriel Haad hit the Dyson threshold at tremendous speed. He was so close to causal uncertainty acceleration that he knew what was about to happen next.
Just before he passed out he saw the numbers on the navigation screen. They were all in the red.
* * *
“Where did he go, commander?”
“Sir, I’m not sure,” Lieutenant Commander Jacks said over his shoulder.
Captain Orr looked at the blister. He used the joystick on his console and panned from right to left. The image swept by the plumes of the ascending WIN ships. He settled on a long view of the Flame Nebula. “As soon as you have the azimuth, track his trajectory to all possible locations, Mister Richard. I need to know where he went.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” the science officer said.
“Sir, navigation computers in the CIC report Varson shuttle craft breaking up and on fire. That was the guy he was chasing.”
“Roger, Mister Hollis. Keep me informed. Hopefully, they’ll be no survivors. Get in touch with Captain Dent on the North America. See if they have a better track on Admiral Haad’s courier.”
“Aye. Going to WIN freqency. Will report what they have to say.”
Orr sat back and looked at the screens on his console. His eyes darted back and forth between the various displays but nothing he saw added any degree of comfort to his thoughts. If Haad hit the fold at his last reported speed, he was gone. No way to track him, no way to go after him. He would wind up somewhen. Time unknown, destination unknown. Of all the Navy ships that had ruptured the threshold speed limit, none had ever been heard from again. Ever.
Orr rubbed his chin and produced his log reader. He made the proper entries and annotations. Then he waited for the reports to come in. He was hoping the North America with its upgraded technology had a better read on Haad’s courier boat.
He knew better. As far as he was concerned, Admiral Haad was missing in action.
Chapter 49
The Varson War was over. After the events in the skies around the mystery planet Rauud Mithie concluded with the unconditional surrender of the remaining varson warships, things moved along at a rapid pace.
The ground forces of the 12th Armored Marines, Bravo Company, had penetrated the underground caverns and found Bale Phatie’s secret shipbuilding shops and medical labs. Out of the 300 souls held captive from the CNS Lake Tahoe, only thirty-four men and women were found alive. The rest had been identified and declared dead after DNA analysis of the human remains in Phatie’s experimental labs. Abattoirs would have been a more proper term.
The word traveled quickly throughout the colonies thanks to the fast boats supplied by the WIN Great Black Fleet. Celebrations were held on Ross, Freehold, Wilkes, Haines-II, Bayliss and Elber Prime. Only Canno had nothing to celebrate, but the survivors of the Varson raid were determined to rebuild. Volu
nteers had to be turned away at the Port Authority docks above each of the Colonial Alliance planets.
Adding up the death toll was tedious. Seven hundred thousand plus on Canno. Another two thousand on Luna-II. Forty-seven Colonial Navy ships destroyed with all hands aboard, a loss of an additional seventeen thousand sailors and marines. And those figures didn’t take into account the 136 ships and crews lost before Canno.
Lives cut short or ruined by vengeance. Revenge, regardless of the temperature one chose to serve it, was a dish best left alone.
The Colonial Navy Admiralty decided to occupy all of the planets in the Varson Empire and assimilate the Malguur people into the colonies. Whether they wanted to join or not was not left open to debate. Small pockets of resistance cropped up here and there in the weeks following the end of major fighting, but by the time the triumphant Second and Third Fleets of Elber Prime, along with many ships from the reconstituted First, sailed into the Port Authority docks above Bayliss, the entire planet was in a joyous mood.
Almost all of the inhabitants on the Weyring Navy Base looked forward to being reunited with their loved ones.
* * *
When the battleship gray staff car pulled up in front of 1606 Blue Spruce Road, Holli Haad broke the connection on her comm stack. She had been talking with her boss, Chaz Troup about the release of her documentary film on the Colonial Navy. She also had mentioned quitting her job.
She opened the door before the bell sounded. On the other side of the screen stood Captain Davi Yorn and Commander Milli Gertz.
The sun had just gone down in the west and a few bright stars were beginning to twinkle in the indigo sky to the east. Holli hugged herself around her waist and slowly reached for the latch. Beyond the two Navy officers a young man in dress whites stood at attention by the fender of the staff car. His face looked familiar but Holli couldn’t pull up his name from her confused memory.
“Come in,” she said softly. “I was just talking to my boss at BayCom about the film. I’ve been standing at the window all day.”
She pushed the screen door open and Captain Yorn grabbed it and pulled it wide. Holli stepped back and waited for Gertz to enter. After Yorn stepped into the living room and escorted Gertz a few meters into the room, Holli pushed the heavy oak door closed and leaned her back against it. Her hands were flat on the door, her small baby bump visible beneath the tail of the oversized shirt she wore. Her hair was bunched up away from her neck and she looked as if she was in the midst of some late evening chores.
“How did it happen, captain? Please tell me the truth,” Holli said with even breaths.
Milli Gertz took a step forward but Yorn put out a hand to stop her. “All the details are not in yet, but from what I can tell, Uri was lost in folded space. Missing in action is the official determination,” he said solemnly. He went on to tell her what had happened that final day in the space around the Varson planet. Holli showed no outward emotion as he told her about the final chase. When he concluded with the idea that Haad might somehow still be alive, she finally broke down. Her tears came quickly and without any effort on her part to stop them. Gertz went to the door and hugged Holli into her shoulder. Yorn stood his ground in the center of the room and grimaced. He adjusted his hat under his arm and waited for the women to separate before he said, “As soon as possible I will launch a search party, Mrs. Haad. If he survived the threshold, I’ll find him. You have my word on that.”
Holli produced a wad of tissues from her pockets and dabbed at her eyes. She mumbled something about things too good to be true usually were just that. Milli stayed by her side and offered what consolation she could.
“I’m sorry, commander. I thought I was a pretty tough girl, but I just can’t seem to accept this,” Holli said, with a minimum of sobs. Her control was slowly returning. “And, I’m being extremely rude. Please, have a seat. Uri wasn’t much of a drinker, but I might be able to rustle you up something stronger than my sun tea.”
They both refused the offer of drinks and elected to stand. “He is my best friend, Holli. I will not rest until I find him. One way or another.”
“Captain Yorn is one determined son-of-a-gun, Mrs. Haad. If he says he’s going to find him, you can rest assured he’s going to do just that.”
Holli looked at Commander Gertz. “Call me Holli. You guys are the closest thing to family Uri had. I hope you don’t think of me as some sniveling Navy wife, bitching and moaning because my husband didn’t come home.”
“Not at all, Holli. We’re here to support you any way we can. Davi and I are at your disposal and for the foreseeable future, we’re both going to be right down the road at Weyring Navy Base HQ. If you need anything at all, just call.”
Yorn told her about the promise he’d made Uri. That started Holli on another quick round of tears. Milli reached for her again. “And as long as I live and breathe, Uri will be missing in action until I determine otherwise. That way you will be able to stay in this house and receive his pay and allowances for seven years. After that, I will honor the promise I made to my friend. You will never want for anything, Holli. The baby won’t either,” Yorn said.
During the next few minutes the emotions subsided again and the women exchanged numbers and agreed to meet for lunch next week. Yorn stood awkwardly by himself and waited for the proper moment to say his goodbyes.
Once on the dark sidewalk leading to the curb, Yorn turned Milli Gertz to him and hugged her close. “Thank you, Milli. I couldn’t have handled that by myself. And, I meant every word about keeping that promise. If I ever forget to do something, or you ever catch me shirking my duties in that regard, you remind me, alright?”
She patted him on the chest and said, “Yes. No worries on that account.”
The adjutant saluted as they approached the car and the lieutenant commander opened the rear door for them. Milli slid across the seat and Yorn removed his cover and looked eastward into the gloaming.
Ten degrees above the tree line Alnitak was rising with the fuzzy patch of the Flame Nebula dulling the skies behind its bright blue triple-star glow. Somewhere beyond the Belt Loop, beyond the Fringes, was his friend.
The captain snapped off a smart salute skyward as a tear rolled down Gertz’s cheek.
He composed himself and slid in next to her.
She reached out her hand for his and he accepted it, latex glove and all.
As the staff car pulled away from the curb, Yorn looked back at the house.
Holli Haad turned on the porch light.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The author would like to thank Jamie Frederic, author of Mission Critical and Warning Order for his kind permission for the use of the name of his central heroic character Grant Stevens. SWO heroes are often overlooked due to the secret nature of their duties. They are seldom forgotten in their contributions to the rich history of all things Navy.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Robert B. Jones, an accomplished futuristic artist and illustrator, and a former Chinese linguist for the US Air Force, grew up in Washington, D.C. He has worked in some of the most security-sensitive places in the country, including the White House, Camp David and the National Security Agency. He is the author of A Chip In Time and his follow-up Danny DeVille novel, The Hand Is Quicker.
The Belt Loop (Book Three) is the latest from Jones and he now has a trilogy of epic space adventures destined to become fan favorites in the space-opera genre. His long-range goal is to take the saga in unlimited directions and follow many of his characters from the cradle to the grave in an ever-expanding galactic adventure series. He calls Henderson, Nevada home and is hard at work on the third Danny DeVille future Las Vegas novel.
kit-filter: grayscale(100%); -moz-filter: grayscale(100%); -o-filter: grayscale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share
The Belt Loop_Book 3_End of an Empire Page 29