First Command (30 page)

On
Warfield’s
bridge, Captain Pyke was doing her best to coordinate her next volley when the proximity alarms went off, indicating that torpedoes were closing fast.
Warfield’s
close proximity lasers went to work destroying two, but the third hit the forward section. It ripped through
Warfield’s
forward hull blowing the forward rail gun turret clean off its mount, and disabling the forward fire control node. On
Warfield’s
bridge, pieces of debris ripped through the forward housing killing two service men, and ripping the bridge open to space. Captain Pyke wiped the blood of what had been serviceman Abun from her helmet as the screens flickered and died around her. She ordered her XO to take over from auxiliary until she could get down there.
Warfield’s
rear batteries now had a clear shot at
Swift
as did
Brasilia,
and both of them took it. Brave little
Swift,
whose salvo had made
Titan’s
crippling shot possible, had never been designed for full on combat. She absorbed the first two shots until the third struck her amid ship snapping her in half.

Jonathan muttered a prayer as he watched the icons of escape pods appear on sensor.

“
Grant us who face the long night,

A swift rescue or a gentle end.

Amongst the embrace of the boundless stars.”

Jonathan then braced for the shock wave as the
Swift’s
reactor blew.

Jonathan ordered another volley still focused on
Warfield.
This time
Warfield
was looking for torpedoes, and caught all three with her plasma cannons. But, three of
Titan’s
railgun shots struck her in her already very weakened forward section causing a cascade of failures in her lesser systems. Half of
Warfield
was now open to space, and bleeding atmo fast.
Brasilia,
through quick thinking on her Captain’s part, managed to launch two torpedoes on a ballistic course. None of
Titan’s
crew saw them until they were right on top of them. By then, it was too late for point defense. One torpedo struck in the already weakened amid ship crippling her, while the second struck just below the bridge.

The explosion took out both Lt. Krishna and Lt. Halman’s stations. Nine people were dead in the blink of an eye. Shrapnel caught Jonathan in the shoulder. Nanos sealed his suit against vacuum, but they didn’t stop the white-hot pain shooting through his side.

“Mr. Trendale, report?”
“Sir, we've lost tac input. We have the helm, but no communication with the guns.”

“Alright roll us. Put our port armor toward them. Mr. Gopal do we have fire control?”

“Yes sir, but
Swift’s
loss has blinded one third of our port sensors I’ll have a hard time getting a lock.”

“Mr. Trendale, did you hear?” Jonathan asked.
“Aye sir.”
“Take us in closer.”
There was a distinct pause on the other end of the line, “How close?”
“Right down their throats!” Jonathan yelled.

Titan
rolled to her port side, and aligned toward the Confed ships.
New Abidjan
had regained lateral control, but was withdrawing from the fight.
Titan’s
earlier hits had gutted her. Anything more powerful than a glancing blow would break her.

In
Titan’s
engine room, Qin Smith was doing his best to bypass the main waste heat trunk, and vent waste heat into space. Temperatures were rising in the engine room so much that his helmet visor was fogging up. His crew being unable to open the auxiliary valve, Qin called up to the bridge.

“Skipper, the main exhaust vents have been damaged and auxiliaries are non responsive. If I don’t cool things down, we are going to start to cook in our suits, and the reactor may go critical.”

On the bridge, Jonathan shoved away the medic who was trying to treat his shoulder, and braced himself as another slug hit
Titan.
“Mr. Smith, seal all bulkheads in engineering then vent atmo.”

Smith was scared and a little shocked, but he knew this was the best way. Still if one bulkhead didn’t seal correctly, they could lose people.

“Do it!” the captain yelled.

In
Titan’s
med bay, Walton Walder leaned over his patient to keep a falling ceiling panel from striking him as the ship shook from the violent aft decompressions.
Titan
had one sick bay, and two smaller med bays in the center of the ship each with an additional layer of hardened steel around it and auxiliary airlocks. The med bays were the only section of the ship no one could wear vacsuits while in combat. Walder got back to trying to extract the shrapnel from Donny Hartic’s left gut. The Bosun had been leading damage control forward when he’d caught shrapnel. Walder had eight medics and five nurses, but he was the only qualified surgeon. This wasn’t what he’d trained for in med school. It was barely even surgery. Walder gritted his teeth and got back to it. Walton Walder was no hero, but he’d be damned if he lost a single patient he didn’t have to lose.

Titan’s
forward rail guns were firing as fast as they could cycle and flying straight at
Warfield.

On
Warfield’s
auxiliary bridge, Commodore Adrian Lucean looked at the damage control read out.
Warfield
was in bad shape. She took four more hits mid ship losing half her missile batteries in the process. Lucean knew he had a narrow shot to blow that damnable destroyer out of space, but the window was closing and if he lost
Warfield, Brasilia
wouldn’t stand a chance. NavInt had reported the Solarians had moved an entire battle squadron into Chaucer’s Gap. A squadron that was on its way now even. Even if Brigadier Fuson got all of the NHPLA and the Confederacy Marines that had been sent to stiffen them groundside, they’d never be able to hold off a whole Solarian battle squadron. Lucean ground his teeth. This had gone from a scenario with a narrow margin of victory to a no win situation. Lucean opened his mouth to give the order to retreat. At that moment though, one of
Titan’s
railgun slugs punched through
Warfield’s
weakened armor and destroyed the Auxiliary Bridge with all hands. The resulting explosion detonated the ordnance causing a chain reaction that took out
Warfield’s
main reactor blowing the ship into three pieces. With its flagship destroyed and its companion in full-scale retreat,
Brasilia
turned and fled having sustained only minor damage through the whole engagement. Upon witnessing the conclusion of the battle, the transport group turned and started to accelerate out system.

Watching the results of the action on his tac screen, Jonathan Pavel looked around at his bridge. Damage control was sealing the holes and draping tarps over the dead crewmen including the corpses of Lt. Halman and Lt. Krishna. Lt. Commander Gopal had his arm draped around Sandra Chan who had broken down in tears. Yeomen Yower was looking at the stump that used to be his hand. Jonathan felt coldness at the carnage that the battle had wrought. Jonathan Pavel Commander of RSNS
Titan,
first master after god aboard this ship, started to weep before he passed out at his station from blood loss.

New Helsinki System, Solarian Republic

Insurgency Headquarters

March 10th 841 AE  (2802 AD) 020:00hrs Haggerdam Local Time

“Well, I suppose its time for us to use our exit strategy my dear,” Yaguard Swervijik said calmly rising from his chair.

The woman who was called Andrea nodded calmly as she pressed the concealed switch gripped tightly in her hand that activated the canister of X-2 gas she’d planted all over the bunker. Someone who went through the painful procedure to become immune like the women known as Andrea was unaffected. Those who weren’t immune began to choke on their own fluid in two seconds, and were dead in seven. Yaguard Swervijik didn’t last that long. The women know as Andrea reached out and twisted his head at an unnatural angle snapping his neck. She then calmly left the bunker. The woman called Andrea emerged into the middle of a dense jungle. Judging by the sun, she calculated it would be a three-hour walk to the waiting shuttle that would carry her to a small vessel then waiting on the edge of the system, and then home to her commanders. She turned, and started the correct way then stopped suddenly as she heard a low steady ‘clapping’. Looking around her, she saw a dead eyed man in a Solarian OMI uniform with a Majors insignia standing at the edge of the tree line.

“Very well played my dear, nukes I wasn't expecting that. Such a crude form of mass murder. I suppose that dear old Yaguard has shuffled off this mortal coil as well. All the better really. It would have been nice to hang him, but killed by Special Forces has a nice ring to it don't you think my dear?”

The woman called Andrea looked at the man readily. The small part of her that was still human after all she’d done, and all that had been done to her shivered. This wasn't a human being at all. He was a predator and she was his prey.

“Not a talker I see. Oh well, you will talk to me eventually, they all do.”

Andrea readied herself, but then her senses picked up movement around her. There were at least twenty. All well concealed and well armed, and she was trapped.

The Major smiled, “Sorry, my dear. I’m a thinker not a fighter. Never leave home without a contingent of Direct Action fellows. Now come along like a good little girl. We don't want it to get rough.”

She analyzed the situation, calculated possibilities, but no way out. She was trapped. Only one thing left. She prepared to bite down on the false tooth which when broken would activate a small explosive device at the base of her skull. It was a small device no bigger than a pea, but it would level this entire clearing and erase the most incriminating evidence of all - her.

The major shook his head. Then she felt a sudden sharp pain at the base of her neck. She fell, and she couldn't move or bite down. She could breath, and she could think, but she couldn't move -not even her eyelids. She lay where she fell, and she heard them moving around her. Everything was getting dim.

“Detromine from the Hydriliss of New Darwin. Nasty creature. Leaves you totally paralyzed for up to three days. You live, but you are trapped in your own private hell.”

The Major walked up to where she lay, knelt next to her, and caressed her cheek with the tenderness of a lover.

“That's why I mix in a little something to help you sleep. Now go to sleep girl. Don’t worry, I’ll be here when you wake up. We’ll have a lot to talk about.”

Blackness.

Solaria, Solarian Republic

New Perth, Senesal Beach, Xu Estate

April 21st 841 AE  (2802 AD)

Jonathan would always hate the sky, but he thought he could learn to love the ocean. Deep, mysterious and scary so much like empty black space. He smiled and reclined in his lounge chair watching his nephew Alexander chase two of  his older sisters down the beach with a slide crab he’d captured despite the hapless crustacean's chirping protest.

“Beer little brother?” Jaroed Pavel asked Jonathan.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Jonathan leaned to get one for himself from the cooler, but grimaced in pain as he felt the tug of scar tissue on his thigh where the nanos were slowly knitting his gash back together. Jaroed handed the beer to his brother.

“You need to watch that John. You don’t want to rip it open again. Don’t get me wrong we are happy to have you back, especially ma, but you need to get better eventually.”

Their mother watching her grandchildren play did her best to smile. The syndrome that had paralyzed her nerves had done little to her mind. She awkwardly reached out and touched Jonathan's shoulder. He took his mother’s hand and kissed it, “I’m happy too ma.”

“John,” Jonathan’s sister-in-law called from the house where she and her sisters and mother were preparing dinner.