Black Dawn (17 page)

Coy, however, stood perfectly still. It was watching the external view as an explosion ripped away a cargo bay door on the derelict
ship. Several figures were blown out into space by the decompression.

The vid image adjusted and Coy saw several black-suited figures tumbling out into space. All of them had their faceplates sealed,
and emergency oxygen working. It sighed heavily in relief.

Several other figures, apparently the pirates who had captured
them, weren’t as fortunate. Obviously they hadn’t had someone like
Schiff as a training sergeant.

After being left for
“dead” by Schiff, Knepp had used some of
the special demolition shaped charges that the troopers carry in their
packs. After sneaking into position and calling out a code from the
trooper’s decompression training drill, he blew the upper edge of the
bay door. Risky, but it seemed to be paying off so far.

On the monitor, the
Blackbird
came into view. Before any of
the fighters could get there, it had scooped all the troopers into its front
hatchway. The hatch sealed, and the ‘
Bird
took only a single hit
from
weapons fire before her shields went back up. The sleek little ship
fired back in all directions, and blasted out of the area at full speed.

On the
the invading party jostled one another in the
lift. They were consumed by sheer terror. Someone looked at his
wrist chrono.

“
Forty-five seconds left!”
“What’s taking this lift so long?”
“Shut up!” the leader yelled. “We still have time!”
The doors to the hangar bay parted, and the invaders literally

fell over one another try
ing to be the first out. They didn’t have to
worry about getting back up. Every available BlackFleet crewmember
on the ship stood there in the hangar bay. Each one of them had a
weapon pointed at the invaders coming out of the lift doors on either
side of the bay. The fact that nearly all of them were techs in no way
lessened their menace. They had also been cross-trained in the same
intruder alert drills that the troopers had gone through, and were glad
for the chance to use the training.

The startled invading party noticed that their fellows, left here
to guard the hangar bay, had been ambushed as well, and lay in a pile
off to one side.

No, the BlackFleet crew didn’t look at all happy. They also
weren’t in any hurry to leave the ship. It became obvious that the
emergency had been faked somehow, and that they’d been outfoxed.

Resignedly, each of the invading party stood, unshouldered his
or her weapon, and raised their hands into the air.
Giorgio Palo
walked over to the leader, took the remote transponder from him and
stomped it into a dozen pieces.

“
I think that ought to be enough of that,” he said with finality,
motioning the captured group back toward the lifts and the waiting
brig.

Coy watched the proceedings on the internal monitors, extremely pleased.
“Virus isolated, sir,” Penway said triumphantly. “Purge complete.”
“We’ve regained control of all systems!” Bon shouted.
“Shields up,” Coy ordered.
“All weapons on line. Give me
the-”
“Sir,” Aziza interrupted. “The main ship, she’s taking off!”
Sure enough, the holovid showed the cruiser spinning about, and its
engines roaring to full power.
“Lamont to all ships: Pursue and fire at will!”
Each of the BlackFleet commanders centered all their firepower upon the fleeing ship. And for the first time in this battle, the
Raven
was able to join in. Parker targeted the enemy with the heavy
dorsal cannons. She fired, sending blasts into their aft shields.
Rear shield power on the

enemy ship dropped like a rock. The
Raven
and
Nighthawk
sped forward, surrounding the cruiser on both sides, and cutting off its retreat.
“One shot with the quad and this would be over pretty quickly,” Butler said hopefully.
The quad cannon on the nose of the
Raven
was their most

powerful ace in the hole. If they used it now that the cruisers shields
were weak it would indeed be over. “Tempting,” Coy told him, “but as
nice as revenge is, I would also like answers. I think we will save it for
more dire circumstances.”

The small fighters also gave chase, attempting to defend the
cruiser. But, by pursing the other craft in the same relative direction,
the nimble little ships had lost their speed advantage. Parker, Nathan,
and Bard, from their respective ships, easily found their marks.

The cruiser itself began firing back at its pursuers, but now had
to divide firepower among three ships instead of only two. It was too
little too late. The
Raven
hammered at the ship without mercy and the
enemy quickly lost side shielding as well. It began to slow to a halt.

Aziza tried repeatedly to establish contact. When at last they
began receiving a vid image from the ship, it was not what they expected. There were a number of people working frantically on their
bridge, but no one was bothering to answer the hail. It seemed that
something was terribly wrong.

“
Sir,” Bon said in alarm. “Scanners show their reactors building to critical mass! Explosion immanent!”
“Not some sort of trick, like ours?”
“No, sir. Scanners have it confirmed!”
“Lamont to all BlackFleet vessels! Retreat! I say again, retreat!”
The four ships peeled away from the cruiser at high speed.
The skin on the big ship split in several places, leaking light and debris, as it was racked by internal explosions. It was followed by a terrible eruption of brilliance. When that dimmed, mere fragments were
all that remained of the ship. No one made it out.
“Leaving nothing to chance, I guess,” Lamont said as Butler
caught its glance.
“You think that this ‘Boogeyman’ blew up an entire heavy
cruiser, simply to keep us from learning anything?” Ken asked in
amazement.
“How else would you explain that? Their carefully planned
offensive was a bust, and we had just about gotten them to heave to
and surrender. Think about what that says about whom we’re dealing
with.”
“Skipper,” Aziza said. “Getting a message from some of those
attack fighters out there. Requesting asylum.”
“How many of them are left?”
“Scanners indicate thirteen left intact and functional; four badly damaged and in need of a tow.”
Coy thought carefully. It looked at Ken and knew what his
vote would be. A look at Bon showed him already going over the
schematics of the hanger bay. He was frowning and mumbling to himself, but finally looked up at Lamont.
“Your call, Commodore,” he said. Which meant he would
find a way if Coy Lamont desired it.
Thirteen functional fighters. “Alright,” it decided. “ Have
them lock down all weapons systems. If even a flicker shows up on
our scan, they stay in space. Bring them in one by one and escort them
directly to the brig. We’ll assess injuries from there.” Officers and
crew jumped to implement the orders. Coy met Butler’s gaze. “Well, I
guess you might have your toys after all.”
“Hardly dropped in our lap this time. We bloody well paid for
these toys.”
Coy nodded grimly, knowing how very much they almost
paid.

At the White meeting the next day, the massive amounts of
damage, names of injured and equipment needs were all listed and reported by department heads. Then a very careful scrutiny of the entire
episode was gone over, practically second by second. By combining
the Tac records from all four ships, vids from external and internal
monitors as well as helmet recorders from Schiff’s unit, they had a
very accurate recreation of the events.

The number one inescapable conclusion was that they had
been blindsided, pure and simple. And Coy was determined that it
would
never
happen again.

“
In the plus column,” Butler remarked, “the evacuation of
Bridge, Tac and Sickbay went like clockwork. The emergency Bridge
is literally what saved our lives.”

“
I discovered a few items that should be stored in the emergency sickbay,” Ceal reported.
“If the injuries had been different we
might have been in trouble. Assuming we had to stay there for a while.
Anyway, I already have Jimmy transporting the things up there now.”

“When we finish the ‘remodeling’ no one will be able to access anything on this ship,” Bon said resolutely.
“And speaking of remodeling,” Rebel put in, “are we really
going to keep all of those fighters?”
“We will keep as many of them as we can get functional,” Coy
answered.
“The ships I agree with,” Hendricks said, “but what about the
pilots? We’re not going to keep the very people that tried to blow us to
atoms, are we?”
Coy thought for a moment before answering. From the looks
on the faces around the table, Mara was only voicing the feelings of
everyone else. “That depends on why they were trying to blow us to
atoms. If they were aware of what they were doing and why, no they
will not stay here. The question at that point is what do we do with
them?”
Schiff looked up and met Coy’s eyes. “They were going to
space us.” He said simply.
“Whoever was in command of those troopers tried to space
you,” Coy maintained. “Not these fighter pilots.”
Butler frowned. Is there some particular reason you are defending these guys?”
Lamont gave a very small sigh. “How many people around this
table needed someone to defend them not too long ago?”
“Ouch,” Rebel murmured
almost
too quietly to hear.
When there were no more responses to the issue volunteered
from the group, Coy continued. “A dose of Pentha will sort out quickly
enough who was simply a soldier doing what they thought was right
and following orders, and who was out for blood for other reasons. If
there are no useful suggestions as to what to do with the second category…” It waited a beat, but no one answered… “I will decide that
shortly. Meanwhile, Bon , get me some exact parts list and timeframes
for converting whatever bays we need . See how the fighters can be
spread out between ships. What I need is to figure if we can do this or
we have to call in some markers.”
Butler perked up at that. As Fleet Exec he was only one of
two people privy to Lamont’s account balance of favors still owed to
them. Lamont dismissed the meeting and as Ken expected nodded him
back into his seat for more discussion.
Ceal Byars also hung back and looked at the Commodore with
some concern. Lamont returned her gaze with a bland one of its own.
After a few seconds of this, she raised one eyebrow in question. Coy
gave a miniscule shake of the head in return. She sighed and left.
Ken glanced at the door, which had closed behind her and then
at Coy. “Dare I ask..?”
“Why I kept you here?” Lamont asked, purposely misunderstanding the question, “I just wanted your opinion on costs. Asch will
be joining us in a minute as well.”
Butler knew enough to let it go if Coy was going to all that
trouble to misdirect him. He would just have to pin Ceal down later.
Not that it would probably do any good. But he could try.
As Lamont said, the Fleet Acquisitions officer arrived just then
and they all began to talk business.

Coy sat across from the table in the briefing room, looking at
the latest of the 34 surviving fighter pilots and gunners. One Anthony
Smith. Coy had to admit it liked the man’s cocky attitude. It had seen
it so often before in interviews. People who had only made it in life by
outwitting everyone around them. Smith had been a war orphan who
had decided early on that being a soldier was the only way to improve
his lot – and maybe that of others like him. Coy smiled at the Story
and signed him on.

The other 33 had stories as varied as they were. Some, like
Smith were victims of their world’s wars. They were checked off. A
few drifters with no particular loyalties or vision. Coy chose one of
them – over Butler’s disapproval. One had left his rich family to make
a name for himself on his own strength. One was a gung ho, selfproclaimed warrior who wanted to win whatever was going on. More
than a few simply liked blowing things up. Two had been discharged
from their home service when the current skirmish there was over and
were lost as to what to do afterward.

Unfortunately, not one of them seemed to know who they ultimately had worked for or why the decision had been made to attack
the
Raven
. After joining the supposedly typical merc unit, they had
simply followed their orders.

In all Coy kept ten, four pilots and six gunners. The rest, after
a second interrogation, were cleared from being hostile enemies, but
were still not BlackFleet material. Coy made the decision to drop them
off at Alluria Station and let them make their way from there to wherever they wanted to go.

During the trip there, several things were accomplished. One,
Bon was able to come up with exact parts and plans needed to permanently house the fighter ships. Two, the new “recruits” were put
through an even more intense orientation training than usual. And
three, that intense training lost them one more of the pilots who decided to risk abandonment on Alluria to facing Schiff again.

“
Skipper, wait up!” Bon’s voice followed Coy down the corridor. Obligingly, it stopped and waited. The engineer caught up and
waved some data sheets in the air. “I have those stats Vennefron wanted for the com line messages. I think he’s right. We can set up a couple of drop spots in different parts of Beta Region where people can
contact us. We can collect the messages at will without anyone really
knowing the location of the Fleet. Is that the kind of thing you were
wanting?”

Lamont looked at
him blankly for just a second, as if it didn’t
know what he was talking about.
“Commodore? Did I misunderstand Venn’s request?” Bon
frowned.
Coy blinked. “No, that’s exactly what we need. Thank you,” it
turned to continue walking.
“I’m on my way to lunch. We could discuss it more over a bite
to eat.”
“No, thank you. I’m….I’m not hungry.”
Bon studied its face. “You look a little beat. Have you been
having those nightmares again?”
“No, I’m fine,” it said a little forcefully.
“I have things to do,
Captain, if you will excuse me.”
As it walked away, Bon shook his head. This wasn’t the first
time a near miss for the Fleet had caused the return of the dreams. He
only wished there was some way to help. But the Skipper had obviously been asking to be left alone for the moment. And he would respect that.
Unexpectedly, the commodore did not oversee dropping the
prisoners off at Alluria Station. Butler took over and had them transported down in a shuttle, lightly stunned and left them in a docking
bay.
“Hey!” a bay worker yelled as Butler started back into the shuttle after the last crewman. “You can’t leave people layin’ ‘round down
here!”
Butler took on a drawl of his own. “Th’ cap’n says next time
they git drunk on duty we leave ‘em. So, we’re leavin’ ‘em.” With a
salute he shut the hatch and yelled to take off. Once they were enroute,
he called on his wristcom. “Butler to Lamont.”
“Commodore Lamont’s quarters,” came Asch’s voice.
Butler stared at his wrist unit. “Asch? I was trying to reach the
Skipper. Doesn’t it have its unit on?”
“The Commodore is…indisposed. Is there a message?”
“Is there a…? Well, okay, the prisoners have been safely delivered to Alluria. We are enroute back to the Fleet.”
“Roger. The Commodore will be posted. Asch out.”
“What do you suppose
that
meant?” Friedhoff asked aloud
what Ken was thinking.
But that didn’t mean any one else was supposed to think it.
“Just what he said, Corporal. The Commodore’s work schedule is really not your business.”
“Yes, sir.”
But Ken still was wondering about it when he got back. He
went immediately to I & S to see if any new business had come up.
Vennefron was working alone and had no news. He found Bon in the
Tac room. “Raeph, anything up?”
“Such as…?” The engineer kept working at a console and
didn’t even look up.
“I don’t know, such as the Skipper being too busy with
something to answer its own wristcom.”
Bon paused in his work at that and looked at him. “What are
you talking about?”
“I tried to report from the shuttle and Asch took the call.”
“So? He’s the commodore’s steward.”
“He’s never done that before. Coy Lamont could be
swimming
and it answers its calls.”
“Is it an emergency?”
“No, just a normal stat report.”
“So what is the problem? The Skipper probably just added to
Asch’s duties again.”
“In the last half hour? And why didn’t it come with the prisoners? That was the plan.”
Bon pursed his lips and frowned. “Are you trying to make a
point?”
Butler crossed his arms defensively. “The Skipper is acting
funny is all. It wouldn’t even argue with me at supper the other night.
It just kept staring off into space.”
Bon leaned back and crossed his arms as well. He didn’t like
criticism of Coy Lamont. “It has quiet moods. You know that, as well
as I do.”
“Yes, but…”
“Leave it.” Technically they held the same rank, both being
captains, even though Butler was first officer of the Fleet and Bon was
second. But more to the point at times like this, Bon had always had a
more personal line on the commodore’s moods and feelings. Butler
glared at Bon for lack of a better target, then begrudgingly, backed
down and went off to his normal duties.