Ep.#5 - "Rise of the Corinari" (38 page)

“I’m fine, thank you.”

The shuttle finally came to a stop. Cameron took a deep breath and stood.
Here we go
, she thought as she marched up the aisle toward the hatch.

The familiar flood lights of the main hangar bay filled her eyes as she stepped through the shuttle’s boarding hatch and descended the ramp. There in front of her were the thirty-seven surviving members of the original crew, minus the ones still in the hospital on Corinair, lined up on either side of the boarding ramp, with Nathan, Jessica, and Vladimir all standing at the far end of the line.

“Attention on deck!” Jessica shouted. Everyone on the line snapped to attention simultaneously. Cameron felt her heart jump. Calling attention for her arrival wasn’t in accordance with military procedures; it was being done as a tribute. At that moment, her nervousness, her fears, and her doubts, all seemed to fade away. She descended the ramp and marched down the row between the two lines of her shipmates, coming to a stop in front of Nathan at the end of the line.

“Commander Taylor, reporting for duty, sir,” she stated, snapping a salute.

Nathan returned her salute with his usual smile, the one that always got him out of trouble with his mother, the same smile that always made Cameron want to smack him in the head. “Welcome aboard, Commander.”

* * *

“Is there any type of flying that is more boring than this?” Josh wondered aloud as he entered the next destination into the interceptor’s jump drive plotting computer. “Jump, sweep, flip, jump, sweep, flip, jump, sweep, flip. Hey, I know. Let’s shake things up a bit. How about we flip, sweep, jump, just one time. What do you think?”

“I think you talk too much,” Tug answered as he entered the time and results of the most recent sensor sweep. They had been jumping about in search of the Wallach for more than an hour now, concentrating on the three most likely routes that she would be traveling if indeed she was headed for the Darvano system. The problem was that, even if she were traveling along one of the three most likely routes, they had no idea what speed she was traveling. Therefore, they had no choice but to play it safe. Since they could not see a ship coming at them at speeds faster than light, they had to jump outward from Darvano a little at a time, pausing to look back for signs of the Wallach moving away from them toward Darvano. Since their sensor range was only a few light days, they had a lot of jumps ahead of them.

“We don’t even know if the Wallach is going to be on any of these routes,” Josh complained.

“Would you please stop whining and jump to the next sweep point?” Tug begged.

“Please, shoot me now and put me out of my misery,” Josh said as he flipped the ship over to point the interceptor in the direction it was already traveling.

“If I had a weapon on me, I would,” Tug stated, “for both our sakes.”

“Ha ha,” Josh replied as he lowered his helmet visor. “Jumping in three……two……one……jump.”

The cockpit filled momentarily with the blue-white jump flash as the ship leapt ahead another light day along its course from Darvano toward the Juntor system.

“Jump complete,” Josh reported, raising his visor. “We are now two hundred and ninety-eight light days out. Hey, see if you can guess what I’m going to do next.”

“Flip?” Tug asked.

“You guessed it, boys and girls. It’s time to flip the ship. Wee!” Josh flipped the ship end over end so that their nose was pointing back toward Darvano.

“Starting sensor sweep,” Tug reported.

“Hey, doesn’t this thing have any rear facing sensors?” Josh wondered. “At least that would cut out the flipping part. ‘Cuz you know what? I’m pretty much an expert at flipping now. I really don’t need more practice.”

“I should have asked for Loki,” Tug muttered.

“Yeah, you really should have. You know, Loki’s always complaining that he doesn’t get out much anymore. Let’s jump back and swap pilots. Whattaya say? One jump and we’re back at Karuzara. You’ll be back out here flipping and sweeping in no time at all.”

“Quiet,” Tug ordered.

“I was just making a suggestion. No need to get all huffy…”

“Quiet!” Tug stared at the screen a moment. There was the tiniest of anomalies in his sensor sweep. “Reverse course and head for Darvano, then jump ahead eight light hours,” Tug ordered.

“We’re a lot farther from Darvano than eight light hours , Pops.”

“I have a contact,” Tug explained.

“Seriously?” Josh asked, straightening up in his seat.

“Yes! Turn around!”

“Outstanding!” Josh exclaimed as he flipped the interceptor back over and fired his engines. He pulled the interceptor into a tight left turn, kicking his tail out considerably in order to increase his turn rate. “Reversing course,” he announced as he punched in the next jump destination into the interceptor’s jump drive plotting computer. “Jumping ahead eight light hours in three……two……one……jump.” Josh dropped his visor again on the word jump. Again the cockpit filled with the jump flash for a brief moment, after which he raised his visor again. “Do you see her?” Josh asked. “Is the Wallach out there?”

“Wow,” Tug exclaimed.

“What?”

“According to these readings, she passed this point not more than a minute ago.”

“That’s cutting it kind of close, don’t you think?” Josh exclaimed.

“Just get us home,” Tug instructed.

“Now you’re talking,” Josh agreed as he set Darvano as the next jump point. Josh flipped down his visor. “Jumping in three……two……one……jump.”

* * *

“Helm, turn into the frigate,” Nathan ordered. “Tactical, stand by all forward tubes.”

“Coming to port. Bearing on the frigate, sir,” the helmsman answered.

“That’s it, just tell her where to go,” Cameron instructed the helmsman. “You don’t have to tell her
how
to make the turn, she already knows.”

“Forward tubes loaded and ready, sir,” the tactical officer answered.

“Prepare to snapshot all forward tubes,” Nathan barked, “staggered launch.”

“Aye, sir,” the tactical officer replied.

“Say it back to him,” Jessica instructed.

“Right,” the tactical officer remembered. “Standing by to snapshot all forward tubes. Staggered launch. Aye, sir.”

Nathan watched the forward view screen as the Aurora continued turning to port, bringing her nose to bear on the enemy frigate. The floor of the bridge shook under his feet as they received rail gun fire. Deliza’s simulations were getting more realistic than ever. At any moment, Nathan was half expecting something on the bridge to burst into flames and send sparks flying across the room.

“Range?” Nathan asked.

“Five hundred meters and closing fast,” the tactical officer responded.

“Helm, as soon as the torpedoes are away I want you to pitch down hard and dive under the frigate.”

“Aye, sir.”

Nathan continued to watch the forward view screen. “Bring all forward rail guns to bear on that frigate, simple slugs, and open fire.”

“Firing forward rail guns, simple slugs,” the tactical officer replied. He tapped his screen several times, and the rail guns began spewing forth fist-sized pellets of alloy at incredible velocity.

“Tactical, when the torpedoes hit their shields, you’ll have a weak point. Concentrate all rail gun fire on that point and set the guns to auto-track on that point for as long as possible as we dive under her.”

“Yes, sir.”

At that moment, Nathan felt their turn end. The Aurora’s nose was on her target. “Snapshot! Tubes one through four!”

“One through four away, sir!” the tactical officer replied.

“Dive under her now, Mister Chiles,” Nathan ordered.

The Aurora’s nose pitched down sharply. As the image of the frigate climbed up the forward view screen, there were four blinding flashes of light as the four torpedoes each struck the same point on the frigate’s shields, each torpedo a split second after the one before it. The frigate’s shields flashed several times as her emitters overloaded and failed. As they dove under her, Nathan looked up as the image of the frigate continued climbing up the view screen until it passed over his head and disappeared beyond the edge of the screen, the lines of fire from their rail guns tracking the frigate as it fell behind them.

The bridge shook violently beneath their feet, the vibrations translating up through the consoles.

“We’re taking heavy fire aft!” the tactical officer declared.

“Helm, prepare to jump, one light minute out on present course,” Nathan ordered.

“Jump one light minute out, aye,” the helmsman answered.

“Scan ahead first,” Cameron reminded the navigator, “make sure the path is clear. We can’t jump through solid objects.”

“Yes, ma’am, I mean, sir,” the navigator answered.

“The frigate’s losing emitters on her starboard side, Captain,” the sensor officer reported.

“Give him an estimated time to shield failure,” Ensign Yosef told the sensor operator.

“Estimate starboard shield failure in two minutes,” the sensor operator added.

“Jump plotted and locked,” the navigator reported.

“Jump!” Nathan ordered.

The bridge filled momentarily with the blue-white jump flash.

“Jump complete,” the navigator announced.

Nathan waited a moment for the navigator to report their position. Five seconds was too long. “Position?” he barked angrily.

“Uh,” the navigator stumbled.

“Where are we Mister Riley?” Nathan asked impatiently.

“Position confirmed, sir,” the Navigator finally reported. “We’re one light minute out, the enemy is directly astern.”

“Show me the current plot,” Nathan ordered.

The tactical officer quickly sent the tactical plot to the main view screen, superimposing it over the current view of the stars.

“Helm, come to port. A hundred and ten degrees over and twenty degrees up relative.”

“One ten to port, twenty up relative, aye,” the helmsman answered as he frantically punched commands into the flight console. The Aurora began a hard turn to port as her flight path also came up relative to the system ecliptic.

“Mister Riley, as soon as the turn is complete, plot another jump. I want to end up along that frigate’s flight path, about one light minute astern of her.”

“Yes, sir,” the navigator answered.

“Once we jump, we’ll turn onto a pursuit heading, match the frigate’s last known speed and course, and jump up next to her.”

“Yes, sir,” the navigator answered again.

Nathan sat back down in his command chair. It would take at least a minute for them to complete such a wide turn and get into position to jump again. He looked at Cameron who was kneeling on the deck slightly behind and between the navigator on the left and the helmsman on the right. This was the fifth such exercise in a row today, and the second time up for this bridge shift. And when they weren’t in a simulation on the bridge, they were watching another shift run their simulation from the screen in the command briefing room.

“Tactical, when we come alongside that frigate, her starboard shields should already be down. If they are, I want you to put a spread of four missiles into her.”

“And if her shields aren’t down?”

“Then pound the crap out of her with the rail guns as we pass. Then we turn out and make another torpedo run at her starboard shields again. If that doesn’t bring them down, I don’t know what will,” Nathan declared.

“Yes, sir.”

Cameron turned her head back toward Nathan and smiled. She was becoming her old self again, confident and efficient as all hell, and always busy doing something. It had only been a week since she had returned, and she already had all the ship’s departments organized and the department heads in place. To make life simple, she had granted each department head as much leeway as possible in figuring out how they wanted to run their department, promising to restrict her interference to only those times when it was necessary for the proper operation of the ship as a whole. She knew they had very little time, so she had accepted the fact that it would have to be enough to just get the ship running with a full crew. She could worry about making it run smoothly later.

“Finishing our turn, Captain,” the helmsman announced.

“Jump plotted and locked, sir,” the navigator reported.

“Jump,” Nathan ordered. The bridge filled with the jump flash again. Nathan looked up at the plot on the forward view screen. They were exactly where he had asked, directly astern of the Takaran frigate, about a light minute behind her.

“Another turn to port, Mister Chiles. Put us on a pursuit course and change our altitude in relation to the ecliptic to match that of the target.”

“Aye, sir. Turning to port, and adjusting relative altitude,” Mister Chiles answered.

“Be sure to angle us outward just enough so that we end up about five hundred meters off her starboard side when we jump, and be sure to match her last known speed.”

“Yes, sir.”

“After we jump, I want you to immediately plot an escape jump, Mister Riley,” Nathan instructed. “We don’t know what shape her starboard guns are in. We may have to leave in a hurry.”

“Yes, sir,” the navigator answered.

Nathan spun his command chair around slowly, surveying his bridge staff. Every station that was working was manned, and the key stations had his regular staff watching over each of their respective trainees. While this normally would not be the case, Commander Taylor had felt it justified considering the limited time they had for training, hoping that it would get the new crews able to stand on their feet a bit quicker. It was, however, hard on the original staff, as they had to be present for every drill, while the crews they were training got to rest for nearly an hour after each session.

“Turn complete, Captain,” the helmsman reported. “We’re now on a pursuit course, same speed, same relative altitude, maintaining a one degree angle off the target’s starboard side.”

“Very good,” Nathan stated. “Mister Riley?”

“Jump plotted and locked, sir.”

“Tactical?”

“Port rail guns ready. Missile battery deployed and oriented to port, sir,” the tactical officer reported.