Black Dawn (15 page)

The three ships flew between the stars in a graceful
“V” formation, the
Raven
in front,
Nighthawk
at her port flank,
Rook
to her
starboard. No one could guess from their quiet and peaceful exteriors
how much activity was going on inside. Even with the Fleet members
more than tripling in numbers, it still meant only skeleton crews. There
was activity around the clock navigating and maintaining the massive
ships, not to mention the troopers working out, officers scanning information, and new crewmembers being put through their intense training.

Coy walked through the
Raven
, thinking it should be pleased
with the level of business going on all around. It should be calming to
have everything in place, everyone doing what they were supposed to
be doing. But something just didn’t … feel… right. It hesitated at the
choice of wording. It never liked basing anything on “feelings”.

The corridor lighting began its scheduled evening change as Coy
continued. One of the many things the designers of the
Raven
had taken into account was mankind’s planet based biology. So many things,
from bio rhythms to emotions were known to be effected by something
as simple as the amount of light in a person’s daily life.

Running along the base of the wall at floor level were dim lights
that were only on at “night”, along with pinpricks of light on the ceiling that could be programmed to represent the stars as seen from a
thousand different worlds. At the top of the walls, pinkish to orange
lights simulated dusk and dawn, while the bright overhead lighting was
on during the bulk of the “day”. All ships had some sort of day shift/
night shift variations in lights, but few as subtle and sophisticated as
the
Raven’s.

Right now the overhead units were dimming and the orange
“dusk” coming on. Butler had commented often how the system was
great for internal clocks, but it still made him want to look around for
the sunset. Coy on the other hand, had spent virtually its whole life in
either secluded laboratories or space ships. Yet, in some way it could
not explain, the day and night cycles usually gave it a sense of balance.
Maybe it should take the time to see some of these sunsets, it mused.
Maybe it would help the decidedly un-balanced way it had been feeling lately.

There was that word again. Feelings. It decided to track down
Bon. Talking to him often helped sort things out. A quick check with
Int/Sec informed Coy that he was in his quarters.

Coy stopped in front of the engineer’s door and pushed the
com button to announce its presence.
“Come,” came Bon’s voice to unlock the door.
As Coy came into the room, it automatically looked around to
locate the owner of the voice. It found him studying his computer intently.
“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Coy apologized.
“That’s okay,” Bon mumbled distractedly in reply.
Coy smiled, amused by Raeph’s absorption. “Studying some
technical?”
Bon finally looked up. “No, something…metaphysical.” He
cocked his head as if questioning his own choice of words.
Coy paused in the process of sitting down, surprised by the
answer. “Excuse me?”
Bon paused as well, trying to come up with a way to explain
himself. “Don’t you ever feel that there’s More than us out here?”
“More what?”
“Purpose. Reason. A reason.”
Coy thought back to another conversation they had once had.
“You mean like, there was a reason we all came together just at the
time this ship fell into my lap?”
Bon remembered the occasion as well and smiled in appreciation. “That and more. A reason for everything. A reason for life itself.”
Coy was quiet at that for a while. “You’re not talking metaphysics. You’re talking religious.”
Bon thought for a moment. “Yeah. Maybe so.”
“Which one?”
“Which religion? Well, that’s the question. I’m not so sure
there is more than one. Every person, every people, every culture that
has asked this question has come up with an answer.”
“Yes, different ones.”
“Different slants, yes. I’m looking at all of those slants that I
can to find the common thread, the baseline truth.”
“And what will that prove?”
“I believe when I find the common truth it will be the Truth.”
“What if there is no ‘the Truth’?”
“That’s what I mean to find out.”
Another pause.
“I’ve heard of people,” Coy said carefully, “who were religious. Some destroyed everyone around them who didn’t have their
slant on things in order to prove themselves ‘right’…”
“Not the most effective way to make converts, I wouldn’t
think,” Bon interjected.
“…and others who stopped fighting at all and disappeared
from society.” It looked expectantly at Bon.
“And you wonder which one I am?”
“Let’s just say I don’t wish to be blindsided by either.”
He scratched his head. Both seem a little extreme to me. I’ve
found reality to usually be somewhere in the middle.” He looked at
Coy seriously. “You have my word I would never let you or the Fleet
down.”
Coy nodded in response to the promise, but made no other
comment.
“So what did you want to see me about?”
“Nothing. Nothing specific. Just visiting.”
“Oh. Okay,” Bon returned to his computer.
Having been sidetracked from what it had wanted to talk about
anyway, Coy stood to leave. “I didn’t think Haradans believed in this
sort of thing anyway.”
“I didn’t think herms were usually fleet commanders.” Bon
smiled at the surprised look on Coy’s face. “I guess we both like to
shake up the statistics a little.”
“Hmmm,” was Coy’s only response to that. The comment had
been to make a point, it was sure, but it struck a very deep nerve. Feeling even less settled than when it had gone in, Coy left Bon’s quarters.
In the corridor, it practically ran into Ken Butler. Butler took
one look at Coy’s face and shook his head in sympathy. “Let me guess,
you’ve just had the ‘Meaning of Life’ speech.”
Coy felt compelled to defend Bon. “He has a right to believe
in…something.”
Ken threw up his hands. Far be it from me to stop him from
wasting his free time.” He grinned and gave a sketchy salute. “I however am going to turn in like the rest of my shift is doing. Good night,
Commodore.”
“Goodnight.” Coy watched him continue on down the corridor
and turn into his own quarters.
Command staff, like everyone else, was grateful for the times
they had to themselves to relax a few minutes in some personal choice
of activity before collapsing into their bunks. And everyone dreaded
the times when the screamer went off during those precious sleep periods.
Like this time.

As usual, Commodore Lamont headed immediately to the Intelligence/Security office located adjacent to the Tactical Room. There
it found Vennefron already communicating with Aziza on the bridge,
the two of them organizing the incoming information into a report for
their commander.

The situation appeared to be a lone ship in distress sending out
an automated message. The order was given to move the Fleet to the
coordinates. They could only hope that the situation would remain stable until they got there.

By the time they were within visual range Lamont was in the
Tac Room and linked to the bridge of each ship through its command
channel. The holovid in the center of the round room showed a miniature version of local space. The distress call came from the small ship
in the center of the representation. The
Raven
,
Nighthawk
and
Rook
slowly moved in from the side.

Captain Bon sat at his station monitoring the status of the
Fleet. Lieutenant Drake also was present, watching the three stations
that were direct links to the bridges of the BlackFleet ships. Two more
stations were dark. One was the link to the
Blackbird
, which at the
moment was docked inside the
Raven
. The sixth station was not as yet
designated for any task.

“
All right,” Coy spoke to the three commanders, “Take your
places everyone. Aziza, get me someone to talk to.”
The ships slipped into position as the
Raven
’s com officer
made repeated attempts to hail the vessel.
“It looks like a derelict,” Butler’s voice said.
“The shields are down,” Bon offered. “I see minimal energy
output of any kind.”
“Are we too late?” Rebel asked.
“They don’t look that beat up,” Hendricks commented. “What
could have shut them down?”
“We’ll soon find out,” Lamont said decisively. “Schiff, take
your party over and search for survivors.”
“Aye, sir. We’re ready to roll,” the major answered from the
docking bay.
Coy couldn’t help but smile a little at his choice of phrase.
One didn’t “roll” in a shuttle, one flew. But Schiff had spent most of
his years as a ground pounder and the dirt-side phrases were still part
of his vocabulary.
The commodore regretted not being part of the boarding party.
Watching others go into unknown situations was the hardest part of
command. Not that sending someone into a dead ship was the worst it
had had to do in its career.
“Keep me posted, Major,” Coy told him
unnecessarily.
“Aye, sir.”
Now there was nothing to do but wait until Schiff contacted
them with an update on the situation.
The shuttle slid from her berth inside the
Raven
, and edged
closer to the darkened hulk of the derelict ship. Nothing moved.
There was no hint of life from either visual or electronic scanning.
Burney brought the shuttle alongside, making a long slow pass
over its exterior. He adjusted their ship’s course, bringing it to what
appeared to be the main exterior docking hatch. The shuttle mated
hatches, and pressure was equalized. Schiff lined up his group in
standard cover formation, and gave them his standard “speech”.
“Heads down, eyes peeled and cover your partner’s backside.”
They opened the hatch. Dim lighting met them as they edged
into the mysterious ship’s passageways. All was quiet and still.
“We’re in,” Schiff reported. “There’s no one in visual. We’re
moving out into the ship.”
“Understood.” Lamont shifted position and crossed its arms as
it waited for the next message.
“Commodore,” Hendricks’ voice sounded urgent. “We’re
picking up some kind of energy signature in the area.”
“Pin it down. Butler, are we getting anything like that?”
“No.” He sounded puzzled. “That’s funny. Our long range...”
“Damn!”
Coy whirled around in surprise at Bon’s exclamation.
“Our shields are down!” the engineer reported, shock in his
voice.
“Theirs just came up,” Drake pointed to a station screen, indicating the “derelict’.
“We’ve got company!” Kensie Parker announced, but Coy had
already seen them in the Tac holovid.
A large ship and a mass of small fighters poured out from behind a dead moon.
“Can we get our shields up?” Coy tried to keep from shouting.
“Nothing is responding. No shields. No weapons control.
No maneuvering control. It’s like all the programming has been
wiped, or overridden or something.”
“Keep trying. Find out what it is.”
“How can they do this?” someone asked.
Coy had a sickening feeling it knew who and how someone
would know the
Raven
’s systems, but it didn’t have time to fully articulate any of that at the moment. “Check the com channels for hidden
carrier wav”
“Incoming!” Butler’s voice sounded throughout the ship.
Safely in the center of the
Raven
, no one in the Tac Room felt
more than a slight rocking motion. But in order for them to even feel
that meant they had taken a hard hit.
“Status!” Butler barked.
Drake switched to the s station. As he, Bon and Butler
handled the flagship’s immediate problems, Lamont concentrated on
the Fleet’s. It desperately wished that
all
the station chairs were filled
right about now.
“Portside damage to Deck H, weapons section.
Four crewmembers injured...”
Lamont listened to the report of damage to the flagship with
growing alarm. The images of the
Nighthawk
and the
Rook
were still
outlined in blue, which meant they still had shielding. The large ship
held off, but thirty-three fighter craft swept at high speed toward the
trio of BlackFleet ships. The fighters came in close, using hit-and-run
tactics, firing heavily upon each pass. They moved so quickly that targeting was difficult.
“Hendricks, Rebel; report your situation.” Lamont ordered.
“Shields are holding. Weapons at full,” came Hendricks’ reply
from the
Nighthawk
.
“We’re not toasted yet, able to maneuver,” from the
Rook.
“We have no shields. Rebel, can you target and deflect any of
the hits we’re taking?”
“On it.”
Rebel brought the alongside the
Raven
, taking up a defensive position. The
‘Hawk
continued evasive maneuvering.
“Bring us in…,” Hendricks spat out coordinates. “I want a full
spread of all weapons at a range of 4,000 kilometers as we pass.”
The
Nighthawk
shot toward the large vessel in an attack run,
all forward guns blazing. The big ship sent massive amounts of particle beam energy at them as they came on. Hendricks gripped her chair
tightly as they came through the hail of fire. Forward shields held, but
barely. Nathan gave the enemy ship all he had with the port guns as
they passed.
The big ship held steady,
its
shields apparently easily
able to absorb the punishment. It continued firing at the
‘Hawk
the
entire time that they were in range, but itself remained in a stationary
position. Instead, it turned its attention once more to the
Rook
and the
Raven
.
The
Nighthawk
sped away, circling around for another pass.
Not alone, however. The smaller warship continued to be harried by a
number of the attack fighters, which flew after it, darting in and out of
weapons range, and slowly wearing down its shields, too.
On the Tac display, some of the small red dots representing the
fighters now began skimming along the
Raven
.
“Drake, we changed the frequency of the
Blackbird
’s systems
during some remodeling. They shouldn’t be able to mess with it. Take
the ‘
Bird
out and see if you can knock some of those fighters off.”
“Aye, sir.” He dove out the door at a dead run. A klaxon
sounded through the
Raven
calling the
Blackbird’
s crew to their stations.
“Byars to Lamont.”
“Lamont. Go.”
“The
Blackbird
is down by two people. I’ve got some engineers here in sickbay.”
Coy swore to itself. “Butler, do we have a crew count? Can
the
Blackbird
launch?”
There was a moment’s wait on the other end while Ken scrambled to reorganize personnel then, “Got it covered. The
Bird
can fly.”
“We’ve got another problem,” Bon said. “The bay doors
won’t open to launch it.”
In any battle situation, commanders had to deal with problems
on every side. It was a normal part of the job. And with Coy’s inherent talents it was usually the one part of the job it handled the best.
Now, ironically, and frighteningly, it was the one thing it couldn’t
seem to do. It had to make a conscious decision not to be overwhelmed. “Do whatever it takes,” it said. “Get them opened.”
“Bon to Hanger Bay.
Bypass the electronics. Open the doors
manually.”
“Aye, sir. We’re trying.”
“Are we getting any sort of detailed reading on that big ship
from scanners?” Coy asked.
“Negative. It’s similar to a Haradan
Vega
class heavy cruiser;
slightly larger than the
Raven
; but it’s an unknown configuration.
We’re getting no specifics on its shield capabilities, number or type of
weaponry, or engine capacity. Same for the fighters. Unknown design, no definite readings other than location and speed.”
“Carrier wave activity detected, Skipper,” Aziza suddenly announced. “That’s how they did it, alright. A hidden sub channel on
the com frequency we used in trying to hail the derelict.”
“Can you lock out the signal?”
“Negative, sir. They’re no longer sending it. Once in, the
wave seems to have had a coded subroutine which has affected the
shields, weapons, and engine systems like a virus. It’s a temporary
thing at best. I can isolate it, and purge it from the systems, but it’s
going to take some time.”
“Let’s not waste the time talking to me about it. Get someone
on it. And not you, you’re going to be fully occupied with keeping me
in touch with what’s going on out there. Raeph, who could handle
that?”
“Mark Penway has expertise...”
“Get him up here,” Coy snapped, nerves beginning to show
despite its resolution.
Bon stabbed the com button on his console.
“ Penway to the bridge, on the double!” he said.
“He’s gone to a lot of trouble to set us up,” Coy mumbled to
no one in particular.
Bon glanced up at its tone. “You think you know who?”
“Don’t you?”
Another tremor shook the
Raven
.
The small attack craft were nimbly sliding between the
Rook
and the
Raven
, using the flagship as a shield against being fired upon.
“Rebel, can you maneuver closer to us, protect at least one side
of the ship?”
“I can bring us a little closer, but if you’re not perfectly still,
it’ll be risky.”
“We’re not going anywhere. Do it.”
Coy looked at the vid from the hangar bay, noting which door
was being worked on.
“Rebel, maneuver close to the starboard side. The
Blackbird
should be launching out the port.”
“Aye, sir. Starboard side .”
“We badly need another weapons platform out there,” Coy
surveyed the scene around the
Raven
. “ How are we coming in the
shuttle bay?”
“They report nearly ready,” Bon replied. “Crew entering now.
Still working on the doors, but almost there.”
Coy began getting the vid feed from Drake. He saw everyone
hurriedly strapping in and going into emergency startup procedures.
After only a few minutes, the crew signaled ready.
Bon paused, listening, and then reported, “Doors are down.
The
Bird’
s away. And Penway’s on the bridge.”
“Good,” Coy replied. Then it turned to another vidcom display. “Schiff! “
“Schiff. Go ahead.”
“What’s your status?”
“We’ve got a situation. We’re cut off from the shuttle. Armed
troopers. They have our codes. Our armor is on manual override.”
“Don’t go to the shuttle. There’s a war outside.”
“Understood. We’ll hold our own. Schiff out.”
Out in the shuttle, Burney listened to the trooper’s communication. They were cut off from him? Should he wait on the chance they
would make it eventually after all? How could he best help his…His
thoughts were interrupted when a fighter shot past him at high speed. It
didn’t seem
to take notice of the small vessel sitting like an open target attached to
the not-so-derelict-after-all. But before he could breathe a sigh of relief, another fighter came by and paused only long enough to line up a
shot.
Burney was knocked completely out of his seat by the direct
hit on his engines.
“Shit!!” Snapping his helmet closed, he dove headfirst out the
shuttle hatch into the ship, just as the shuttle exploded behind him.