A Galaxy Unknown

by Thomas DePrima

  As the bridge crew of the Vordoth looked on in surprise, two additional explosions rocked the heavily damaged Raider ship on the opposite side, finishing the job so effectively begun by the first blasts. The destroyer, already severely weakened, broke apart, leaving two large halves and clouds of detritus tumbling and spreading through the coldness of the cosmos.

  "What happened?" Jenetta asked, her jaw hanging slightly open.

  "Captain Jenetta Carver happened," Gunny said grinning. "Those explosions were from the four torpedoes you ordered fired."

  "But they were dead."

  "Apparently they weren't quite as dead as we thought, ma'am. They suddenly came back online and reacquired their original target. My sensors picked them up as they reignited and accelerated towards the freighter."

  "But how?"

  "I don't know ma'am— but I'm not complaining."

  The danger past, Jenetta smiled lightheartedly at him, leaned back in her chair, and stared at the image. "I'm not either, Gunny," she said after breathing a silent sigh of relief.

  A delayed cheer went up on the Vordoth's bridge as the crewmen realized that the threat was gone. Everyone was suddenly smiling, laughing, crying, clapping, slapping one another on the back, or shaking hands. Jenetta just sat in the command chair and breathed another silent sigh of relief, letting the tension drain from her body and the exhilaration wash over her, while doing her best to maintain a staid exterior.

  Gloria, white-faced and visibly shaken, leaned over to say, excitedly, "Congratulations, Captain. It was brilliant how you used the ore containers to protect the ship! With a full load of ore, they were better than the toughest and thickest battleship armor ever made."

  Drawing in a deep breath, Jenetta expelled it slowly. Smiling, she said quietly, "I thought I would have a heart attack when the first two torpedoes lost their target. Space Command torpedoes aren't confused by counter measures once they've locked onto a ship's mass and shape. And usually a guidance specialist is in constant contact, directing them into their target. I certainly wasn't expecting yours to behave quite so— unpredictably as they did. And I still don't understand how they came to life again."

  "What I don't understand is why the ship returned to fight after you fired the first two torpedoes? If all they wanted to do was watch us, they could have easily stayed out of range."

  "I suppose that they were so stunned to see a freighter take the offensive that they weren't thinking clearly. And can you imagine the embarrassment if word leaked out, and it would have, that they ran from a shootout with an old freighter. Their captain would probably get the sack, or worse. I suppose he also looked upon it as an easy opportunity to grab our cargo now rather than later."

  "You should make an announcement to the crew about our incredible victory, Captain."

  Standing up, Jenetta straightened her tunic. "You're right. But first let's see if this link-section is salvageable, and then we'll have to catch the rest of our cargo. Charley?"

  "Aye, Captain, I'm on it," Charley said from the security station where he and Gunny were using the imaging equipment to view the link-section. "The link is too badly damaged to couple with the cargo section, but I'll send a bot out to see if any of the containers can be salvaged. Congratulations on a successful attack, Captain."

  "Thank you." To Gunny Rondell, Jenetta said, "Excellent shooting, Gunny. If we'd had anything to shoot but those screwy old Mark III torpedoes, you'd have taken him out with your first shots."

  "Thank you, Captain," he said, beaming proudly. A new admiration began to fill his eyes as he looked at his commanding officer, while a profound sense of relief that he hadn't attempted to take over the ship flooded his abdomen.

  A robot tug was dispatched to perform a close examination of the damaged cargo containers as Jenetta walked to the communications console. "Please put me on ship-wide speakers," she said the com operator.

  "Ready, Captain."

  "This is the captain speaking. We have just successfully destroyed the Raider warship that was tailing us. We'll now recover our cargo section and resume our trip, along a different route to Higgins. Thank you for your fine work today."

  The bridge erupted briefly in applause again. Jenetta smiled and nodded at everyone before turning to Gunny and Charley at the security station. They were busy examining the images being relayed from the service bot. "What's the story with the four containers?"

  "Those two Raider torpedoes did a real number on them," Charley said. "Everything is far too badly damaged to reconnect to the ship. We'll have to use a space tug to tow the link-section along until we reach port. It can follow along behind the ship and we can change the personnel once each day."

  "No, we can't do that, unfortunately. The tug would cut our progress in half. Other Raider vessels may already be on their way here. We have to be out of DeTect range before they arrive. I'm sorry, but we'll have to leave it. Bring the service bot back in and let's go get the main cargo section."

  "What about the other two sections that we released first?"

  "We don't have time to recover them either, or to look for survivors in the Raider ship. We know where the link-sections are, and they have tracking transponders in them. If the company wants them, they can have them picked up on the next run through this area."

  "Aye, Captain."

  * * *

  Charley's gaze lingered for just an instant upon the large wall monitor in the captain's briefing room as he entered later. Gloria was already there, studying the projected illustration with keen interest.

  "The cargo section has been reattached and the three tugs are safely back aboard, Captain," he said.

  "Thank you, Charley," Jenetta said. Gesturing towards the monitor, she asked, "How long would it take to reconfigure the cargo section like this?"

  Studying the diagram intently before answering, he said, "With maximum effort I'd say that we could do it in about an hour. Are you sure that you want to consolidate all the gun sections together like this behind the main ship?"

  "Yes. In the event of another attack, we'll drop the cargo section and fight with just the main ship. Right now, the guns are too far apart to give us really concentrated fire, and we completely lose their firepower if we separate from the cargo section to improve our maneuvering capability. With the guns remaining attached to the main ship after the cargo section is released, we'll come close to the maneuverability and armament of a Galactic Space Command light destroyer, although we still lack its armor and FTL speed."

  "Okay, you're the captain. I'll get right on it."

  "Thanks, Charley."

  Every tug in the Vordoth was pressed into service as the cargo section was separated into almost three dozen pieces like a giant jigsaw puzzle, and then reassembled. As promised, Charley had the new configuration ready in an hour. For the first time since the initial attack, Jenetta felt good about their chances of getting through. The crew had been under fire and had performed well. The ship was fairly well armed, for a freighter, and the gunners now knew their job. The weapons system had been reprogrammed and all laser arrays that locked on a target would now fire, instead of just the one closest to the object, filling the immediate area around any target point with pulses of coherent light energy. Most importantly, Jenetta was settling into her new role and gaining confidence with each passing day.

  In a little over a month's time Jenetta would be back with Space Command, and perhaps in six or seven months she might be able to get home to see her family. For now, she had the framed picture in her quarters to keep the memories fresh.

  * * *

  Things calmed down over the next several days, but the bridge crew never relaxed their vigilance. Everyone was on maximum alert as crewmen took turns scanning the surrounding space for signs of Raider activity. Jenetta began to notice a real change in the attitudes and behavior of the crew, who were acting more like they were on a military ship with each new day. On the fifth day following the destruction of the large Raider ship,
Jenetta was brought up short as she arrived on the bridge in the morning to relieve Gloria and was greeted with a loud "Captain on the bridge." All crewmen not at stations came to immediate attention and held their position until Jenetta thought to say, "As you were."

  Jenetta turned to Gloria with narrowed eyes and said, "Could I see you in my briefing room before you leave for breakfast?"

  "Of course, Captain," Gloria said, as she moved to follow Jenetta.

  As the briefing room door slid closed behind Gloria with just the slightest whisper, Jenetta turned. Gloria stopped and braced to attention.

  "Okay, what's going on?" Jenetta asked.

  "What do you mean, ma'am."

  "Knock it off, Gloria. You know damn well what I mean. What's with the formal military recognition of a commanding officer?"

  The corners of Gloria's mouth turned up almost imperceptibly. "The crew is just showing their respect for you as captain of this ship. Gunny Rondell has been schooling those of us that were never in the military, and refreshing the rules of military conduct for those that have been out for a long time."

  Jenetta's nostrils flared for a second. "That's not right. I don't want him forcing people to feign military conduct."

  "Force? Captain, you don't force freighter crews to modify their behavior about anything. They do it only if they want to, and they do want to. They requested that he teach them. They know that you saved this ship and everyone on it, twice now, and someone suggested that it might please you if, until we reach Higgins, we simulated the kind of atmosphere that you're most familiar with, and which you've been away from for so long. By the time we reach port they'll probably be able to pass inspection in a review parade."

  "They requested that he teach them formal military conduct? Really?"

  "Yes, ma'am. And if there was anyone aboard who might have been reluctant to follow your orders when you first accepted command, I can guarantee you that that isn't the case anymore. There isn't a crewman on this ship that would hesitate to follow any order that you gave now. And I'm talking about orders well above and beyond the orders that any freighter captain could ever expect to have obeyed."

  Jenetta was stunned into silence by the revelation. The irritation she'd been feeling evaporated instantly, to be replaced by astonishment. "That's extraordinary," she finally said. "And I'm truly honored. But this isn't a Space Command vessel, and I'm just an acting captain. I have no right to ask for the kind of unquestioning obedience expected by the commanding officer aboard a military ship."

  "You don't have to ask for it, Captain; you already have it. Ever since our last Raider encounter, this crew will do anything you ask of it. Over the past decade, we've all lost friends, and in some cases loved ones, to Raider attacks. This is the very first time that a freighter has not only escaped almost unscathed from a Raider attack, but actually bested the attacker. Everyone is simply busting with pride that they were a part of it. And you did say ‘until we're out of danger, we'll operate as if this is a military ship' when you accepted command."

  Jenetta frowned, remembering her perhaps ill-chosen words. "Yes, I did, didn't I? But I never meant that to extend to formal military conduct." Scowling, she said, "Gloria, you don't have to stand at attention; and when we're alone, call me Jen." When Gloria didn't change her position, Jenetta sighed and added "At ease, Lieutenant."

  Gloria relaxed. "No ma'am, I can't call you anything except Captain. I might slip when we're not alone and I only want to set a good example for the rest of the crew. They're trying really hard to adapt."

  Jenetta sighed. "Very well. Ask Anthony to send me a pot of coffee when you go to breakfast, please."

  "Yes, Captain."

  Jenetta walked around her desk and sat down. Looking up, she was surprised to see Gloria still standing there. "Was there something else you wanted to discuss?"

  "No ma'am. Gunny Rondell told me that in the military you never leave the commanding officer's presence until you're clearly dismissed."

  Jenetta groaned inwardly to herself. "You're dismissed, Lieutenant."

  "Aye, Captain." Gloria came to attention, turned on her heel, and left the briefing room.

  Jenetta knew from her military training that nothing inspires such intense loyalty in a crew as does success in a military campaign, and no one could deny the outstanding success of their attack on the Raider ship, even if luck did play a significant role. But she wasn't at all happy about the new military formality. Knowing that Gloria wouldn't use her given name, even though they had become friends before she'd assumed command, made her feel the first traces of loneliness that always come with senior level positions. She knew that she couldn't ask the ship's company to stop the formality, because it was a special gift to her, rather than a duty, and she couldn't possibly reject such an unprecedented gift from an entire crew.

  Touching her log ring to the spindle of the desk's media drawer so she could make a daily entry to her personal log, she started by expressing her personal unhappiness with the new military protocol on the ship. She had just finished articulating her thoughts when Anthony arrived with the pot of coffee she'd requested. She said, "Log update," to record the new entries on her ring, touched it to the spindle again, and then said "Come." Anthony entered when the door opened, and set the tray down on her desk to pour a mug for her.

  "Nice and fresh, Captain. I just made it."

  "Thank you, Anthony." When he continued to stand there, she smiled and added, "You're dismissed."

  Anthony returned her smile and said "Aye, Captain," before turning and leaving.

  ‘Well, at least he didn't come to attention,' she thought.

  Jenetta spent the rest of the morning reading through the technical manuals that were related to the ship's construction and performance. A search of the database turned up an engineering manual on the installed Falcon Mark III system and she devoted a couple of hours to a cover-to-cover study of the weapon system materials. "Ah ha! Mystery solved!" she said aloud as she read through an addendum of system upgrades. Although the basic weapon system still had most of the shortcomings that eventually caused the military to cease installation in new warships, the missiles themselves had been upgraded. They were still dumber than a housekeeping bot, but the single propulsion stage had been replaced with two smaller stages. The modification was intended to increase its effective range, by sacrificing higher velocity. Instead of accelerating towards the target for one-hundred-eighty seconds, and then going ballistic, at which point the torpedo lost all ability to maneuver, the two-stage design accelerated for only one-hundred-twenty-seconds, then went ballistic. It would travel that way for up to twelve minutes, unless it first lost the target and then reacquired it. Reacquisition of the target would cause the second stage to immediately ignite. Since it's velocity after the first stage burned out could be something along the lines of 42,500 kps, sixty-seconds of renewed acceleration and maneuverability when it neared its target was a significant improvement.

  Based on her interpretation of the upgrade, the Vordoth's torpedoes must have exhausted the fuel in stage-one while chasing the destroyer's counter measures. They had dumped all their acceleration in changing directions, so when the counter measures died, the torpedoes went ballistic in whatever direction they were headed, but were moving only slowly. When proximity to their original quarry suddenly retriggered their targeting systems, the second stages ignited, and the rest was history. Jenetta smiled as she was reminded of the eruption of counter measures a second before the first torpedo struck. That must have been one very surprised tactical officer when the alarms went off and he realized that four torpedoes were just seconds away, and converging from four different directions.

  Still engaged in reading, a little before noon, she had just picked up her mug to take a sip of coffee when the crewman manning the communications station buzzed her com unit.

  "Captain," the crewman said when she lifted the cover of her com unit, "I'm picking up a distress call by a freighter under
attack".

  "Verify that it's being recorded and pipe it through to my console."

  "Aye, Captain."

  Almost immediately, an excited voice began to emanate from the speaker on her com unit. "…repeat, this is the freighter Jouraklihest. We're under attack by Raiders. We need help from any GSC ship in or near sector 8667-3855-1653.5682 post-median 0071. Please respond. Two of our escort ships have already been destroyed. We're on a mercy mission, carrying vital food and medicine for the colonists on Obotymot. They won't survive without these supplies. Please, we urgently need assistance!"

  Jumping up from her desk, Jenetta hurried to the door still holding her coffee mug. Before the doors opened, she reminded herself that she must appear unruffled before the crew. Composing herself, she stopped and took a deep breath.

  "Red alert," Jenetta ordered as she stepped calmly out onto the bridge. "It seems the Raiders are at it again." Turning to the astrogator, she asked, "How far are we from sub-sector 1653.5682 post-median 0071?"

  Before the astrogator could respond, the red alert lights throughout the ship began pulsing and the sound of wailing alarms emanated from the corridors.

  "About forty-billion kilometers, Captain."

  "Do you know anything about this— Obotymot?"

  "I know that it's an Earth-class planet. I heard that it was hit by a meteor about two years ago, and dirt in the upper atmosphere has partially blocked out their sun. Most of the existing vegetation has withered and disappeared, new crops fail, and most of the domestic animals and wildlife have died or been slaughtered for food. A massive first supply effort several months ago was intercepted by Raiders and never reached the colonists. I imagine that things are pretty desperate there by now."