“Cori, do you see Chei anywhere?” the captain asked, not directly coming back at her.
“No sir.”
“Do you see the TICS?” he asked.
“No.”
“How about any kind of side drift they might have gone down?” he asked.
“Negative,” Cori said. With each answer he sounded more resigned.
“So you can say for sure he’s not there?”
“I don’t see him,” he admitted.
“His suit is offline,” Rocky said, coming into the conversation.
“Ja, but so was Cori’s,” Seva said.
“But it’s possible that Cori might have fallen through a wormhole to another planet for all we know,” Danel jumped in on the com.
“A wormhole?” Seva snorted. “Nojo?”
“Yah maybe,” Cori said. “That might explain the earth normal gravity while I was missing.”
“If it’s something like that, the wormhole might shut,” Danel said. “If you’re close to the opening when it does then you might get sucked into it. That could leave you stuck on the other side.”
“You’re just trying to scare me,” Seva said, sounding insulted that they’d even try.
“No,” the captain said, “I’m trying to make sense to you so you’ll quit arguing and follow orders.
“He might be right,” Cori said. “We should pull out until we know for sure. Haul up the line and let’s rethink this a bit.”
“Get back to the ship and we’ll figure it out,” Jeph said. His voice said he understood her pain even though his words left no room for argument. “Something down there likes eating my crew. I don’t want to keep feeding it and hoping it will spit them back.”
Cori pulled himself back up the tether by hand and rapped on the front window of the pod to get her attention. He nodded and gave her a thumbs-up. “It didn’t like how I tasted, so maybe it won’t think Chinese food is any better.”
She wanted to snarl, but couldn’t help laughing despite her anger. She nodded back at him and pulled in the tether. Bumping the thrusters, they climbed out of the hole.
Armstrong: Outbound Approaching 2.1 AU:
“We have a situation with the Challenger and Galen,” Admiral Nakamiru said as Chancellor Roja joined them on the ConDeck. He and Captain Jeffers were staring at the situational display on the riser platform.
“A situation?” she said, looking around and realizing that a ConDeck officer was already approaching with a hardball. She smiled despite the obvious tension on the admiral’s face.
“Yes ma’am,” the captain said, dragging a finger over the display to zoom in on Saturn. “About an hour ago they were contacted by a small group of ice freighters.” She tapped the screen near the moon Hyperion, an X appeared on the map to show their position. “They warned Captain Mei there was an ambush forming up over Mimas and they needed to divert to their location for retanking, rather than proceed as planned.”
“That was nice of them?” Katryna said, raising a suspicious eyebrow.
“Problem is, they told our ships they were following my orders,” the admiral said, “and I issued no such order.”
“Not so much then,” she said. “Can we warn them off?”
“No,” Jeffers answered, shaking her head. “They waited to make the call until the Challenger and Galen were right at the point of needing to commit to the heading change. They’ll arrive at the rendezvous location before we can get a message back.”
“That sounds like a set up.” She snorted and shook her head. “Where are they now?”
“They’re within twenty minutes of contact and we’re still close to an hour and three minutes of transmission delay,” she said.
“The good side is that Mei and Takata are both smart enough to smell the trap. They’ll go in expecting trouble,” the admiral said.
“How much damage can an ice freighter do?”
“Most of them are wallowing slugs,” Captain Jeffers said. “Big engines, small reactors, and a lot of superstructure. Even if they mounted weapons on them, they couldn’t support much additional power drain. Maybe a couple cutting lasers each.”
“Those would have limited range and be almost useless over a few klick,” he said. “Unlike the ones we mounted on the Challenger, cutting beams don’t collimate well.”
“But the Galen is probably clear out of juice and I’d bet the Challenger isn’t much better,” Roja said. “Being hungry, they’ll let those icebarges snuggle right up to within feeding range.”
“That’s likely,” Jeffers said. “The problem is, even if they didn’t make the turn and head for those freighters, they’re both low enough on reaction mass that they can’t get away without tanking.”
“What are the odds that these might just be sympathizers name dropping to make sure they get included in the party?” the chancellor asked.
“They’ll know in about eighteen minutes and we’ll know an hour later,” Jeffers said.
“Keep me posted,” the chancellor said, setting the empty hardball cup on the edge of the display and turning toward the door.
“Unfortunately, that’s not our only issue,” the admiral said.
“Two issues before breakfast is my limit,” she said, turning back around as he zoomed the map out to show the position of the Archer on the map.
“Evanston is twenty-two hours out,” Jeffers said. “Considering the change in situational topography, they don’t dare pull into port now.”
“They’re so low on reaction mass they may be cannon-balling through if we don’t get them some juice. Our original plan was to tank the Challenger and Galen and have them catch up with the Archer about here.” He tapped a position on the map. “That would put them outward from Saturn, but they’d be able to transfer enough from both ship’s reserves to hook back around and all three of them would make Mimas again, in under a week.”
“Tidy but not possible anymore,” she said, grabbing the empty hardball cup and waving it at the officer who had brought it initially. She leaned forward and studied the map for several minutes. “Does the Archer have any reaction mass left?”
“Evanston reported they kept about ten minutes in reserve for emergency maneuvering,” Nakamiru said.
“That should be enough,” she said, dragging a line across the map with her finger tip. It dipped inside Saturn’s D-ring and bent hard, before shooting off into the deep. The computer recalculated her approximate course and the line dipped closer toward the planet. “Can they do it with the juice they’ve got?”
“You’re shooting them toward the Jakob Waltz?” The admiral whistled.
“If Mimas is no longer a safe harbor, that’s where we’re all going to end up,” she said. “We need to quit playing the short-game and commit ourselves.”
“They can get close,” Jeffers said. She’d done a thumbnail calculation to make sure. “It will take a titanium set to do it.”
“If the Challenger and the Galen survive the ambush, we can send them after Evanston,” the chancellor said, shrugging. “If they don’t, then we’ve got a few more weeks to figure out how to slow them down before they leave the solar system.”
“I’ll send the orders.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Challenger: Near Hyperion:
The Challenger passed above the north pole of Hyperion, with the Galen 500 kilometers to starboard and trailing by a few degrees. Both ships were in freefall and had an open tight beam link between their ConDecks. Neither Mei nor Takata felt warm and friendly about Commander Ashwell, so they came in ready for a fight.
“Sir, we’re being hailed by the Roswell,” her com officer said.
“Here’s where he tips his hand,” Captain Mei said before she nodded to open the channel.
“Commander Ashwell, we’re about a thousand klicks out,” she said as his face appeared on her screen beside Carter.
“I see that Captain,” he said. “You’re still closing at over one KPS above our velocity, bu
t we show you in freefall. Is that right?”
“Unfortunately, it is. The Galen is dead dry, so that’s as close as they can get,” she said. “Can you match our speed?”
“Is that why you’re 500 klicks apart?” he asked, avoiding the question.
“It is,” Mei said. She could tell that Ashwell was upset and she glanced at Carter on the other screen who nodded. He’d registered it too.
“Trap,” appeared in text below his face.
Her main viewscreen showed an optic view of the four icebarges. They were all facing toward the approaching ships. That was a bad sign too. Standard procedure would have had them facing in the direction of travel. The chrono showed them as sixteen minutes to rendezvous.
“We can catch you if we have to, but an ice freighter doesn’t move as well as your cruisers,” he said. “It will take us the better part of ten minutes to flip and then another eight to match your speed and close to transfer distance.”
“I understand Commander Ashwell and I appreciate your cooperation,” she said, cutting the channel.
“He’s a smart one,” Carter said as soon as the signal was clear. “By slow turning and boosting at a half-g, it will put him approaching from behind.”
“And he never shows us his ass-end either,” she said. The image on the screen showed three of the ships rotating in place. The fourth ship kicked in its engines and broke toward the Galen’s flight path.
“Looks like they figure I’m harmless over here,” Carter said. “I don’t know if I should be relieved or insulted.”
“Take what you can get,” Mei said. “They’ve obviously been told that you didn’t get your guns bolted down, before we pulled out of Ceres.”
“Means they’ll be concentrating on you,” he said.
“Nojo there,” she said. “Make sure you pay attention.”
Ice Freighter Roswell: Near Hyperion:
“Just track the plan and we’ll all be heroes today,” Ashwell said as he watched the Challenger sail by below him. Another couple minutes and he’d be in position.
“Copy that Ashwell. I know you want the trophy, so you’re gonna owe me biglike when we get to Titan.” Mikaela Pfeiffer had been the commander of the Atlanta for less than a year. She’d earned a rep as a hothead throughout the Saturn icebarge fleet, but he knew she had the chops to slap the Galen with a minimum of fuss. It was an easy take down.
“Mikaela, get into position and let me know when you’re ready to snag your prize,” he said. “We’ll all be on station in about one-twenty.”
“I’ve got about three-ten,” she said. “Target is about five klick out and still in front of me. I want to get at their array from a bit port and forward. Less chance of debris in my face.”
“Roger. The ball is yours. Call it when you’re ready,” he said.
“Skipper we’ve got the Challenger hailing,” his com officer said.
“Roswell, it’s all up to you now,” Captain Mei said. “I can’t see you except on proximity radar.”
“Hold steady Challenger, we’re closing,” he said. “I’m aiming for your non-volatiles port and the Brownsville and Lansing are flanking to your reaction ports. We’ll be snuggling to range in a few more.”
“A question for you, commander. Why’d you triple team me?”
He chuckled. He’d expected this exact question, a lot sooner in fact. “Because we don’t expect it to be long before the fleet at Mimas realizes you’re not inbound anymore. When they do, they’ll be coming this way. We know you’re carrying a special package and figured you’d be useful providing cover so we can finish tanking the Galen.”
“Makes sense,” Mei said. “Just be gentle with me.”
“Yes ma’am,” he said. “We aim to please.”
He cut the link shaking his head. Gullible and dumb. Wonder who she had to sleep with to get the fancy chair?
Challenger: Near Hyperion:
“You ready over there?” Captain Mei asked. “Ashwell’s the one on top.”
“Affirm,” Carter said. “Him first. On your mark.”
“Be careful with those things,” she said. “You can put somebody’s eye out you know.”
“Nojo,” he said. “Just look the other way and you’ve got no worries.”
“Then let’s party,” she said, tapping the initiate order into her console. The chrono gave a short countdown and then they set about altering Ashwell’s reality in a profound way.
The Galen opened up with a three-beam broadside across the top of the Roswell. From 500 kilometers, the half megawatt lasers sliced the ice hauler’s antenna array off at the base in the first volley. Captain Takata lurched hard to port under full power. The Atlanta, caught flatfooted by the supposedly empty ship slamming forward in a hard burn, cut below the cruiser to avoid a collision.
As it accelerated away, the Galen pivoted to bring its nose and all five of its beams to bear on the Roswell, while its engine wash forced the Atlanta to continue downward. Ten seconds and it would be out of range to the rear and hopefully out of the battle.
The Challenger, surrounded by three ships, had to be more selective in its maneuvering, relying on its nose thrusters to start peeling speed. It only had to slip a few hundred meters sternward to get off a full nose barrage. Ashwell obviously knew he was in trouble and was trying to fall back and stay out of the nose firing arc, but the Challenger spun along its primary axis as it dropped behind. Ribbons of the ice hauler’s hull vaporized as the two side turret lasers eviscerated the Roswell. The primary processing tank exploded, spewing ice and molten steel across space and the bow of the Challenger.
The Brownsville and Lansing leapt away, as much as wallowing slugs pretending to be battleships can leap. Firing wildly at the Challenger they aimed for any target of opportunity, but Captain Mei remained focused on the Roswell and ignored their cutting lasers. Another volley from the Galen cut the Roswell’s engine in two, while Mei’s gunners targeted the primary reactor core.
External power couplings blew out along the hull in a ripple that spread small explosions from the stern of the ship in what looked to be a cascade of power systems failures. The expanding cloud of gas and ice from the ruptured midsection of the Roswell set the ship rotating and brought an end to Ashwell and his delusions of glory.
Captain Mei looked at the chrono. Sixty-six seconds, though it felt much longer. The tactical display on the main screen showed the five ships still in the playing field. The Atlanta was making a turn toward Saturn and had pushed up to a fair burn hoping to get away.
“We need that ice,” she said, looking at Captain Takata on her comscreen.
“I can’t go get it,” he said. “I’m sucking vapors.”
She winked at him as she told her com officer to open a general hailing channel. “This is the captain of the Challenger to the commanders of the Lansing, Brownsville, and especially to you, Atlanta. Do you wish to surrender? Be advised Atlanta, you are still within weapons range and if you don’t stand down immediately you’ll be walking home with Ashwell.” In truth, they didn’t know the maximum range of their beam weapons, but she figured neither did the other commanders. “Think fast, you have ten seconds before we open fire.” She cut the mic.
“If they don’t stop, can you target their engines only?” she asked her gunnery officer. “We need to not spill more reaction mass if we can avoid it.”
He held his hand up and waggled it. Maybe.
“It’s alright,” the helmsman said. “The Atlanta is off the pedal and coming to a stop.”
“Incoming message from the Atlanta,” the com officer announced.
“Put it on,” she said, glancing down at Carter who was talking to someone off screen. “This should be good,” she said. He nodded.
“Challenger, this is Mikaela Pfeiffer, commander of the Atlanta. I am taking command of the wing. We surrender and stand ready to assist. This isn’t our bloody war and I don’t care which side I’m on, as long as somebody pays the bills.”
>
Jakob Waltz: Station-keeping Above Borehole Site: L-4 Prime:
It had been several hours since Chei disappeared, and the continuing argument about whether it was aliens had finally driven Jeph to chase the rest of the crew off the ConDeck. He sat in silence, grinding at himself over the idea that Chei’s EVA suit had a very limited life support capacity. Of course they all knew it, but at least the rest of them seemed able to distract themselves with the pointless debate.
“Captain, we’re getting an intermittent signal from the missing TICS,” Dutch said. “It is not standard telemetry, but is on the carrier frequency used for position control.”
“Where is it?” Jeph leapt toward the command console.
“At the bottom of the borehole,” Dutch said.
“Is it Chei?”
“I am not picking up suit telemetry. The signal is one channel of the TICS datalink. It is pulsing in a non-random sequence that appears to be working though the base prime numbers.”
“Like the shockwave pattern?” he asked.
“Similar, but not exact.” The computer put up a graphic of the pattern. “The pulse width is roughly consistent, but does not reflect the same timing and decay pattern as before. It has no amplitude modulation.”
“Could he be trying to use the transponder to get our attention?”
“That would be possible, however I lack sufficient data to extrapolate the odds.”
“I volunteer to go check,” Seva said, appearing on the ConDeck followed by everyone else, including Ian. Obviously, Dutch made an announcement.
“We can send unmanned pod,” Rocky suggested. “No risk to do so.”
“Do it,” the captain said. Several seconds later the sound of a pod breaking seals with the EVAOps port rattled through the ship. The main screen lit up with the optic feed as the pod dove toward the surface and the entrance to the borehole. No human pilot could have moved as fast.
“What’s that?” Shona said as the pod slowed near the bottom of the shaft. “Looks like Chei’s helmet.”
Dutch maneuvered the pod to within a half meter of the object. It was a suit helmet with a shattered faceplate and what looked like blood splattered around the inside. Something electronic filled the top of the dome.
Shan Takhu Legacy Box Set - With an Extra Bonus Story Page 30