Back | Next
Contents

Chapter 24


“There is a tendency to mock those who prepare for future disaster. That mockery may be the most foolish and suicidal fashion trend of human society.”


Legacy Mandate by Emperor Yung I


As the sensor specialist of Tanager, Che Ramos had very little to do except during the innumerable drills the captain inflicted upon the bridge crew. As the ship slowly made its way out-system, farther and farther from the Strand, closer and closer to their chosen transition point, Che’s sensors found even less to detect. The squadron, and Commodore Zanka, had already made their transition, so the “abundance of caution” subterfuge fell away, leaving Che with little to occupy his time. Blank screens remained blank, far from the lanes of traffic toward Core Alpha, and this left Che with hours of contemplation. Mostly he contemplated that mysterious package secreted back in his cabin, and these contemplations unfailingly made him miserable.

Why had the government agents selected him for this treacherous mission? How was he supposed to get the package into the captain’s cabin, anyway? What would they do to him if he couldn’t?

Che’s stream of troubled thoughts checked slightly as a tachyon pulse sensor chirped. From his experience of the last few ship days, Che knew the captain seemed aware of everything going on in every corner of the Tanager, and he spoke rather sharply when Che took more than a moment to interpret and communicate all new sensor feeds. Che checked the tachyon sensor for the umpteenth time. In Fleet shorthand, “in-system” and “out-system” provided directions relative to the system star. Over the last few days, more and more contacts originated in-system, back toward Core Alpha, but not this one.

“Captain, we have a possible contact, out-system,” Che announced.

“Bearing?” the captain asked, just as he had any number of times over the previous days.

“W-we haven’t resolved a bearing yet. It’s on tach—tachyon pulse only so far.”

“Very good, Ramos. Put it up on the holo if we get a fix.”

It should only take moments for sensor returns operating within the constraints of light speed…

Sensors in three spectrums chirped in unison.

“Captain, out-system contact is…is bearing one-zero-five right azimuth, um, zero-one-zero negative ecliptic.” Che moved the contact up to the holo, and everyone saw the contact shifting position unlike every other contact they had tracked in-system.

“Lot of delta-vee there…” Deckchief Church muttered.

“Captain, contact has not made its number,” Che said, studying the sensors. “Changing its heading to…to…right at us.”

“Weps, shields up to full. Loki?”

“Yes, Captain?” Loki’s disembodied voice replied.

“Can you identify the inbound contact signature?”

“No, Captain. It provides no Fleet signature, and optical scopes cannot resolve the contact.”

“It’s got to be Fleet,” Church muttered. “Moving too fast for anything else.”

“Captain,” Che called out as his instruments sang, “contact is painting us with active sensors.”

“Nav, two-seven-zero, positive,” Saef said, “ten gees. Now.”

“Aye, Captain. Two-seven-zero, positive, ten gees,” Ensign Yeager affirmed.

“Comm, hail the contact on tight beam,” Saef said.

“Aye, Cap—” Farley began to affirm.

“Lock!” Che yelled. “They are locked on to us, Captain!”

“Take a breath, Ramos,” Saef said. “Ops, all sections, battle stations.”

“Aye, Captain,” Phillipa Baker, standing in at the ops panel, said. “All sections, battle stations.”

Saef scrolled through his expansive UI, looking for issues. “Weps,” he said after a brief moment. “Are missile tubes and glasscasters ready?”

Anyone could see the rigid stance of Pennysmith, the sweat beading her brow. “No, Captain. We have a technical issue. Working to clear it now.”

Saef checked the vidstream feed from the Weapons section, observing the weapons chief and several ratings rushing about.

“We’ll have partial functionality in sixty seconds, Captain,” Pennysmith said.

“Sixty seconds…charge up point defenses, Weps,” Saef ordered.

“Captain!” Farley at comm yelled out. “No response to our hail.”

“Weps, lock onto target, give me a firing solution, and plot occlusion arcs for the glasscasters.”

“Aye, Captain. Firing solutions and occlusion arcs,” Pennysmith said, her voice even, but sweat dripping from her face.

“Launch!” Che almost screamed. “They’re firing on us!”

“Nav, evasion pattern echo. Go! Weps, fire glasscasters. Give me those occlusion arcs.” Even through the graviton suppression of the ship, the bridge crew lurched as Tanager’s engines torched into emergency acceleration and threw the ship through evasive action. Every eye on the bridge glanced at the main holo, following the indicated tracks of two incoming missiles. They heard and felt the heavy thump of a glasscaster firing once, twice, then no more.

“Glasscaster malfunction, sir!” Pennysmith called, her voice shaking from the vibration through the deck.

“Missiles?” Saef said, gripping the arms of his seat and staring at the main holo.

“Still offline,” Pennysmith said.

“Church,” Saef said.

“On it,” Deckchief Church said, and took off out of the bridge, bound for the Weapons section.

Their two outbound glasscaster munitions jetted out fast, then exploded secondary charges, spreading cones of silica teeth in the path of the incoming traces.

“Point defenses charged?” Saef asked, hearing the labored breathing of his bridge crew.

“Charged,” Pennysmith said.

“Sensors, range to target vessel?”

“Uh, sixty-one thousand,” Che said.

“Range to inbound missiles?”

“Twenty-ni-nine thousand, sir, closing fast.”

“Okay, sections, any suggestions?” Saef asked, and a stunned silence filled the tight bridge.

“C-can we transmit a surrender?” Che asked, looking about the bridge uncertainly. “I-I mean, we’re in Core System still,” he added upon seeing the accusing looks aimed in his direction. “There’s no way they could hold us for long.”

“Anyone else?” Saef asked. No one spoke. “Right. Pennysmith, how’s your section coming along?”

“We can fire one sixty-four-gauge missile at your order. The thirty-twos are still offline. Loading sixty-fours will be slow.” Pennysmith spoke precisely but her face looked white and pinched in the glow of her instruments.

“Target that sixty-four into the path of the inbounds. We’ll detonate in their teeth,” Saef said.

Almost instantly they felt the thump of the missile launching from Tanager’s hardpoint, and the entire bridge seemed to draw a breath. They took comfort from even a lone little sixty-four crossing the darkness between Tanager and the two inbound missiles.

“Ramos, plot the intercept path. Weps, detonate right at the edge of its effective radius.”

They both affirmed, and the bridge fixated on the holo as opposing missile tracks closed at terrific velocities. Their traces coincided. Pennysmith gasped. She flipped one of the backup mechanical toggles open and punched it, then again.

“Missile malfunction, Captain,” Pennysmith said.

The bridge exploded into activity.

“Nav, evasion pattern alpha. Weps, point defenses and dampers. Ops, make sure those heat sinks are all online.” They all felt the thumping of the dampers through the ship as Tanager lurched into evasive action. Their puny dampers lacked the power and range to save them. “Weps, glasscasters?”

“Still offline, sir. We have another sixty-four loaded,” Pennysmith said.

“Too close for that, now.”

“Inbounds! Four seconds out!” Che yelled, grabbing onto his panel for some frightened reason.

“Nav. One-eighty spin, now!”

“Oh no, oh no, no, no…” Julie Yeager said, frozen, staring at the holo, her face a mask.

“Captain,” Pennysmith said, taking the HUD lens from her eye and staring calmly at Saef, “I need to say—”

“Hold that thought, please, Pennysmith,” Saef said and looked up in time to see the holo flash white. The bridge fell into darkness and gravity fluctuated beneath them.

In the darkness, muttered words—maybe curses, maybe prayers—mingled with gasping breaths and something like a sob.

Saef spoke into the darkness. “We all just died.”

The bridge lights and instruments flickered back to life.

“Simulation complete,” Loki announced.

As voices shifted from fear to rage, Saef said, “I’ll give you a bit to compose yourselves, and then we will examine exactly how we killed ourselves.”


Back | Next
Framed