Starbound (Lightship Chronicles)

by Dave Bara

  After a quick lunch I downloaded the latest intel packet from the Admiralty, but it really contained nothing new. Everything was as it had been, and everyone was on pins and needles, waiting.

  A few minutes later and my com chimed in, a private communication was incoming from the planet, from Prince Katara. I smiled. I knew what was on his mind.

  “Good to hear from you again, Highness,” I said cheerfully over my desk com.

  “Don’t try to flatter me, Captain,” he said the last with emphasis.

  “What can I do for you, Sunil?” I said.

  “You can damn well get me the Lightship I was promised! Keeping us out of the fight to save the Union was never part of our agreement!” he said.

  “Resolution’s not ready,” I replied. “It’s really as simple as that. She’s almost operational, mechanically, but her crew isn’t ready yet. You know that.”

  “All I know is what you tell me, Peter. Our sailors are the best in space!”

  “Well, that may be, Sunil. But learning to run a Lightship is a much bigger task than being aboard one of your Levant Navy destroyers. It’s a steep learning curve for the best of them,” I said.

  “Spare me your platitudes, Cochrane. You’re doing everything you can to keep us out of this fight,” he said. I could tell his ego was taking a hit.

  “You’re right about that,” I said. “But believe me, this is one fight you want to avoid as long as possible. Let us do our job and secure your world.”

  “But you’re taking away our greatest asset!”

  “The Admiralty considers the jump gate and generator on Tyre (I deferred to the local name for Levant’s inner moon) to be more of a threat than they are an asset, Sunil. It has to be disabled, unless you want an Imperial fleet jumping into your backyard?”

  “Of course we don’t. But our planetary defenses—”

  “Are strong enough to fend off anything they have: HuKs, destroyers, perhaps even a dreadnought now that we’ve hardened your weaponry. But you can’t fend off a full fleet. You know that,” I said again.

  “If we had Resolution—”

  “Then Starbound wouldn’t need to be here. But you don’t, so we have to be.” The line got quiet then and I could practically feel the prince’s somber mood. He hated being left out of the fun and losing his precious Founder Relic.

  “And how is the Princess Janaan?” I said, breaking through the silence.

  “She doesn’t know you’re here. Or about your promotion. Or . . .” his voice trailed off.

  “Or about my marriage. But you know, don’t you, my friend?” I said.

  “We have a good intelligence network, Peter.”

  “Indeed you do.” The prince hesitated a second before asking the next question.

  “Will you be happy with her? This Carinthian princess? More than you would have been with my Janaan?” he asked. I didn’t know how to answer that. There was no right answer.

  “I don’t know,” I finally said. “But what’s done is done, and we all have to make the best of it.”

  The line stayed silent again for several moments.

  “I’m sure she would want to hear from you directly,” said Sunil. I sighed.

  “I’m not sure that’s possible,” I said honestly. “Time being what it is—”

  “There is always time for what’s most important, my friend,” he said. “Call her. She will need to hear it directly from you.”

  I didn’t want to do it, but I knew it was the right thing to do, for her anyway. “If you’ll send me her longwave contact ID—”

  It popped up on my display screen before I was finished speaking.

  “Good luck, Peter. I expect you to be here when we christen Resolution,” he said.

  “One way or another, I will be, Sunil. I promise. And good luck to you as well.” With that I signed off, leaned back in my desk chair, and sighed.

  I called up Janaan’s longwave ID and activated the com, sending a signal with my personal ID directly to the princess’s line. After a few seconds she answered.

  “Hello, Peter,” she said. “I understand congratulations are in order, on many fronts.” Apparently the princess had as good an intelligence network as her brother.

  “Hello, Princess,” I said.

  “Please, Janaan.”

  “Hello, Janaan. This isn’t easy to say—”

  “Stop, please. Before you go on, I have to see your face.” A request for a visual connection popped up on my display. I accepted it and the face of the Princess Janaan of Levant appeared on my screen. The screen was dark and grainy, but even through the distance and local interference I could still see her features. She was as beautiful as ever.

  “Princess,” I started. I told her all that had happened, as truthfully as I could. She listened patiently and without comment until I had told her everything. The war. My command. Karina. Then it was her turn to speak.

  “I understand your choices, Peter, but I had hoped for a different outcome. Please understand that I will always care for you,” she said. She looked downtrodden at the news.

  “And I for you, Princess.”

  “Thank you for saving my people,” she said. “We will always be in your debt.”

  “And I will always be in yours, Janaan,” I replied. She was having a hard time holding back tears, and frankly, so was I.

  “Do you love her?” she finally asked. What could I say to that?

  “Not yet,” I admitted. “But that doesn’t change my commitment.”

  She wiped away a tear at that, then quickly said her goodbye, and I let her go. It seemed the least painful thing I could do.

  I rubbed at my own tired eyes, then pulled up the latest drill reports. 97.5 percent. Still not good enough. I called up to Babayan and ordered her to run through the firing drill again. Then I went to my water basin and ran warm water over my face, trying to rub the tears out of my own eyes.

  We received the all-clear from the Levant Navy and Artemis Station twenty minutes before we reached optimal firing range on the jump gate ring. In our last run of drills we’d taken out the jump gate ring and then the generator base on L-4b within twenty minutes of each other. But that was a simulation. I hoped for a similar result in real life.

  At ten minutes to firing range on the jump gate ring I ordered us to battle stations and all nonessential personnel to stand down in place. I wanted no distractions. Serosian preferred to wait things out in his cabin, only coming to the bridge if he was needed. I would have preferred him to be there, but his habits were his own, and often hard for me to fathom.

  We used the gravity well of the outer moon of Levant’s pair, Sidon, the bigger of the two, to swing us around to the planetside face of the ring construct. It was kilometers across, big enough for a small fleet, and I doubted a round of coil cannon fire could destroy it, so I had opted for a volley of multiwarhead low-yield atomic torpedoes, fired in a mix of ten every thirty seconds for two minutes. The resulting detonations should provide sufficient yields to break the ring into at least four pieces, enough to take it out of service permanently. Historians and Union Navy technicians had mapped the ring technology, so we could put it to use in the future if need be, but only if there was a certainty that we could control it.

  The main bridge tactical display showed a clear view of the ring as we swung out of Sidon’s shadow and into optimal firing range.

  “Five minutes, sir,” called Lena from her station.

  “Thank you, XO,” I replied. I switched my coronal overlay to show me an infrared view, and the screen looked dark, cold, and quiet, just as everything had been since Valiant was attacked at Sandosa.

  I switched back to the visual display just as everything changed.

  I did a double take at what I saw. The ring lit up with a blinding white light as it powered to life.

/>   “Did we—” started Duane Longer.

  “Red alert!” I jumped to my feet. “Defensive fields to maximum!” I shouted. The visual display switched automatically to a tactical view as the ship’s battle AI rushed through the adversary ship catalog to identify the intruder. It did.

  “Imperial HuK! Accelerating toward us, sir!” called Layton.

  “Lock forward coil cannon Mr. Marker,” I ordered. My Master Chief was doubling as my Weapons officer and marine commander.

  “Aye, sir,” replied Marker. “Cannon locked on, sir.”

  Just then a second flash came from the ring.

  “Second HuK, accelerating rapidly,” called Layton from his station.

  “Keep the lock on the first, Commander. On my order Mr. Marker!”

  “Sir!” replied Marker.

  “Fire!”

  An orange wave of coil cannon energy lanced out at the Imperial ship and hit her head on. The small ship’s shielding buckled and overloaded at the impact of our improved power and weaponry. The small ship absorbed a heavy blow, but not a killing one, yet.

  “Recalibrate on the second ship,” I ordered to Marker. “Mr. Longer, straight on to optimum firing range on the jump ring, I want full impellers, and engage the hybrid drive!” Now we knew why this ancient construct was so dangerous. It had to be destroyed.

  “Aye, sir,” said Longer. “Three minutes forty seconds to optimum range.”

  “You have a firing solution on the second HuK, XO?” I said.

  “Affirmative, sir. On tactical,” replied Babayan.

  With a wink my coronal overlay switched to the tactical display. We had a dead-eye lock on the second HuK.

  “Execute!” I ordered, just as yet another flash came from the jump gate ring. I scanned the tactical display again.

  Now there were three.

  “Orders, sir?” asked Babayan.

  “Carry out the attack, XO.”

  She didn’t acknowledge me but instead forwarded her firing solution to Marker, who immediately set and fired on the second HuK. The result was the same as the first, destruction of her shielding, but she still maintained her maneuverability.

  At that moment, Starbound’s Historian came bounding on to the bridge.

  “Did I miss anything?” he said. I gave him a glare but said nothing as he took his station directly behind me.

  “Transfer weapons control to the Historian’s station,” I ordered. Marker complied. “Status of the helm please, Mr. Layton,” I said.

  “The third ship is moving off away from us, sir. None of them seem to be much interested in attacking us,” he reported.

  “Longwave scans indicate life signs aboard the HuKs, sir,” reported Babayan. I was faced with the prospect of taking human life. I didn’t hesitate. These ships were the enemy. I scanned the tactical display again, the three HuKs moving rapidly to equidistant positions.

  “Serosian—” I said.

  “They’re triangulating on us!” he called from his station.

  “Feeding stellar coordinates via longwave to a dreadnought, just like with Valiant at Sandosa,” I said calmly.

  “Likely,” replied Serosian.

  “Torpedoes, Mr. Serosian. Take out those HuKs,” I ordered.

  “It’s probably too late to stop them from sending the coordinates,” he said.

  I snapped around to my friend and former mentor. “I want them gone now,” I said. I had no hesitation when it came to protecting both my crew and the world below us. “Fire at will.” He had to know by now that I was his former student, and was now firmly in command of Starbound.

  He fired.

  Three separate sets of torpedo volleys branched out from the ship in different directions. Those volleys used up most of the supply of atomic torpedoes that I had planned to use to destroy the jump gate ring.

  I sat down and strapped myself into the captain’s couch. The tactical screen showed our torpedoes syncing in on the HuKs, who without their primary shielding were probably doomed. A second later and their destruction was confirmed.

  “Prepare for incoming fire,” I commanded. Commander Babayan looked back at me from her XO’s station.

  “From where, sir? My screen is clear,” she asked. Right on cue, a massive Imperial dreadnought winked into existence, barely ten kilometers off our starboard side. Our Hoagland Field absorbed most of the hyperdimensional displacement effect, but we still rattled and rocked. And she was closing on us.

  “She’s arming weapons!” called Serosian.

  “Evasive maneuvers Mr. Layton, but keep us on course for that jump gate ring,” I ordered.

  “Aye, sir!” Layton struggled with the helm as the dreadnought battered our shielding with a mix of coil cannons and atomic torpedoes. They ignited against our field, but we managed to hold our course. For the moment.

  “Repressing fire, Mr. Serosian. Commit all remaining torpedoes to the dreadnought,” I said.

  “What about destroying the jump gate ring?” he asked.

  “We’ll have to use the coil cannons.”

  “But we can’t guarantee destruction—”

  I swiveled in my chair. “Carry out my orders, Historian, or I will return control of the weapons system to Chief Marker!” I demanded. Serosian gave me an emotionless look, but nodded and programmed the launch sequence.

  “Ready, Captain,” he said.

  “Fire!” Starbound emptied her torpedo launchers in a steady stream of ordinance, both torpedoes and short-range missiles, some fired directly broadside at the dreadnought, some having to course-correct and pursue. I checked the tactical board for damage to the dreadnought.

  Our combined torpedo and missile barrage hit her on all sides; more than a hundred explosions rocked her massive edifice. I watched as her shields absorbed much of the ordinance, but then a second wave broke through her outer defenses and exploded on her hull. It would have been enough to take out a High Station in a single attack, but it barely slowed the dreadnought down.

  “It looks like our Imperial friends have made some improvements. Do they have a functioning Hoagland Field?” I asked Serosian.

  “Not exactly,” he said, “but something of a similar nature, it appears.”

  “Mr. Longer, what’s our course and speed relative to the dreadnought?” I asked.

  “We’re pulling away, sir. Accelerating past her ability to catch us. That doesn’t mean we aren’t in her missile range though, sir,” Longer said.

  “Noted,” I replied. “Mr. Serosian, recalibrate our coil cannons forward. Target the jump gate ring.”

  “We can’t destroy the ring with just our cannons and fight the dreadnought at the same time,” he said.

  “I’m aware of the tactical situation, Historian. My intent is to disable the ring since we can no longer destroy it with our torpedoes. It may not be to the letter of our orders, but the effect will be the same, at least temporarily,” I said.

  As our attack ended the dreadnought resumed its barrage of Starbound, but against our hardened defenses the practical effect was negligible. It couldn’t stop us from destroying the ring, but we couldn’t stop it using only our non-atomic weapons. It was a dilemma.

  “Time to the ring, Mr. Layton,” I asked.

  “Twenty-five seconds to optimal firing range,” replied Layton. The ship shuddered with the effect of another nuclear missile from the dreadnought exploding hopelessly against our Hoagland Field.

  “Take us as close to dead center as you can, helmsman. I want two cannon bursts, Mr. Serosian, one each from port and starboard. We’ll break the ring at two points, which will disable it from use by either side until it can be repaired. Are my orders understood?” I said.

  “Yes, Captain,” replied Serosian. Babayan confirmed and then counted down the seconds to firing range, and I gave us two seconds ex
tra before I ordered the cannons to fire. The effect was perfect, the ring being split widely in two places, half a click apart as we shot past the inside perimeter of the ring. The broken section of the ring drifted off into open space. We had disabled the threat, for now.

  The dreadnought was still pursuing us, but losing ground, and we were now out of her effective missile and coil cannon range and accelerating away. She was still a threat to Levant, even if they now had a protective planetary Hoagland net to defend against the anti-graviton plasma disintegrator Starbound had fought against the last time we were in this system.

  “Track the dreadnought, Mr. Layton. She may follow us all the way to the jump point but she’ll never catch us. If she changes direction, I want to know immediately,” I said.

  “Aye, sir,” said Layton. “Where will you be, sir?”

  “In the Command Briefing room, with Mr. Serosian,” I said. Then I turned and walked off the bridge, not looking to Serosian but expecting him to follow me, which he did.

  “Do we have a problem?” I said to Serosian as soon as the Briefing Room door was shut behind him.

  “I don’t think so,” he said back to me, his jawline firmly set in a way I had seen many times before. I continued.

  “Three times you either refused to execute my orders immediately or you questioned them in front of the crew. Three times, Serosian,” I said.

  “I did,” he replied, then went silent again.

  “Why?”

  “My role is to give you options, remind you of your duties and command orders, as I have always done,” he said.

  “Circumstances have changed,” I said flatly. “I’m no longer your student and you are no longer my mentor. I am captain of this ship, and when I give an order, especially on the bridge of my ship in a battle situation, I expect it to be followed. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “No,” he said. I nodded.

  “Good. The time for bringing up questions on my strategies and carrying out my orders is not when we’re in a combat situation. It’s now, at times like these, when I welcome your insight. But once I’ve chosen a direction and we are on that bridge, I expect you to follow my commands without challenging me,” I finished.