Federation Reborn 1: Battle Lines (26 page)

Read Federation Reborn 1: Battle Lines Online

Authors: Chris Hechtl

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #High Tech, #Military, #Hard Science Fiction

BOOK: Federation Reborn 1: Battle Lines
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“I'll take her,” Dutch said quietly. The other officers stared at him. He shrugged. “We need to get her patched up though. And refueled.”

“We still can't get both ships to ….”

Dutch held up a hand. “Just to get her to Nuevo Madrid.
Moldy Crow
can continue on inward to warn the empire proper.”

Captain Media opened his mouth and closed it, then looked from Dutch to Gaston. Gaston had no intention of stepping forward. He wasn't happy that his XO …
former
XO had stepped up. He rubbed his arm. It wasn't healing right. The stupid nurse on the ship had set it, but it still ached.

“Fine. Whatever. Just get it done and us out of here,” Gaston finally growled, keeping his arm pinned to his chest. He didn't like the idea of returning to the empire in disgrace, but he had no other alternative.

---<>---<>---

 

“What do we do about the bodies?”

“Bodies?” the earl asked.

“The bodies of the dead. We've also got people on board, more people than we can deal with, sir. The life support won't keep up for the entire trip.”

“Space the damn bodies. Suck every drop of water out of them and then get rid of them. Do you have a molecular furnace on board?” the earl demanded.

Captain Media grimaced and shook his head no.

“Then get what you can out of them and then space them. Make sure you log who they are of course.”

“Of course.”

“You may want to get some of the survivors to go through your cargo. Pick through anything that has energy, even batteries might help.
Charlatan's Prayer
can do the same. Suck all the water out obviously, the same for air.”

“I was debating dumping some of the excess mass. But we're still overloaded.”

“Then we'll have to lighten the load. Anyone not pulling their weight can be spaced.”

The ship's captain carefully didn't look at the earl. “You're talking about the prisoners?”

“I didn't know you still had some on board.”

“A few.”

“Space them. Slaves as well. They are of no consequence. Suck them dry, then get rid of the dregs.”

“A pity,” Captain Media murmured.

“Save your pity for the living; the dead doesn’t need it.”

“They aren't dead yet, Commander.”

“Yet. See to it now. The longer they are here the more they are wasting resources. If you had a choice, them or you, which would you chose?”

“Me of course. I'll get on it,” the captain replied with a sigh.

---<>---<>---

 

As the two ships drifted under 10 percent power,
Charlatan's Prayer
was hurriedly patched up. Two shuttles danced around her, doing a survey and moving personnel back and forth. Fuel was precious, so only three shuttle flights had been allowed. One did a spiral around the ship and then returned to the boat bay on slight puffs of fuel.

Commander Lefou and a few of the displaced engineers went over to the
Charlatan's Prayer
, but Lefou found out that Lieutenant Commander Kail had him by date of rank. She insisted on retaining command. Their argument spilled over to Gaston who when he heard it threatened to come over and space the both of them.

“Enough of your squabbling. Kail, Lefou is in charge. He is the military line, don't you
ever
forget it.”

“But sir ….”

“The next protest out of either of you and I'll come over there myself,” the earl threatened. He wasn't willing to back up his threat; he had no intention of going to Nuevo Madrid.

“We're almost finished with repairs. What we can repair,” Kail said. She looked at Dutch. She had ways of dealing with interfering men. If he wanted to survive to get to Nuevo Madrid, he'd learn to keep his trap shut and toe the line.

“And the Dutchman?” Two hours ago a sailor had been kicked off the hull by a miscommunication. The ship had maneuvered, and he'd been in the way of an RCS thruster. He'd been stupid enough to use a safety line. They had listened to his pleas for rescue for some time.

“We can't afford to stop or the fuel to send a shuttle to pick him up,” Gaston said coldly. “Remind your people to be more careful,” he growled, eyes glittering. One dead man meant one less mouth to feed air, water, and food to he thought.

“We have just enough fuel to get to Nuevo Madrid. With … a 3 percent reserve,” Captain Kail reported.

“Three?” Gaston demanded. He had set the bar at 1 percent. They needed all the fuel to get to Dead Drop safely.

“Three is pushing it, sir,” Dutch said smoothly. He knew Kail was fudging the numbers slightly in their favor but wasn't going to call her on it.

“Sir! A ship has emerged from hyper at the jump point behind us!” a rating said on the bridge.

Gaston turned. Had one of his ships survived he wondered?

“We're still waiting to get a good reading. And since we've got crappy civilian grade sensors …,” the rating said. He shrugged helplessly.

“Is it
Barnabe
?” another rating asked hopefully.

“The drive signature doesn't match,” Captain Kail said slowly, voice cooling. Gaston didn't like the sinking sensation that cool voice was evoking. He suddenly remembered they were inside unarmed lumbering ships. Wounded ships.

“She's moving out! On our course … crap there is no way she's one of ours! She's moving way too fast!”

“What is she?” Captain Media demanded. “Give me a reading, damn it!”

“Does it matter? She's a warship! We're unarmed!” Dutch yelped. “And she's picking up speed!” His voice quavered.

“Settle down, Lefou; we've got the lead on them by several KPS,” Captain Kail said.

“They just sent the one ship?” Gaston asked. He felt a slight sense of relief. He'd been concerned that the enemy would have followed with his full force. They could have rolled through the empty system and hammered Nuevo Madrid and then came back to picket the empty system. Obviously the damn chimp had decided to play conservative.

Either that or his orders said to stay in Protodon. He frowned thoughtfully to himself and then nodded. Yes, that could be it. The chimp could have orders to “rescue” the people on the planet. His boss was probably a bleeding heart. Well, he'd make sure it bled the proper way. Eventually, he thought with a hint of a feral smile. Just give him another ship. This time a good one, and he'd carve his name in the bastard's chest and turn that monkey into a carpet.

“What is that furball playing at?” he growled.

“Count your blessings, sir,” Captain Media said, striding onto the bridge. “I have the bridge,” he said formally. He looked expectantly to the earl. After a moment of inactivity, he cleared his throat meaningfully. Gaston looked up to him and then slowly rose out of the hot seat.

“I didn't want it anyway,” he muttered, moving aside to let the other man sit.

“At least you kept it warm,” the captain replied. “Charlatan, we're splitting up on schedule. You head to Nuevo Madrid as planned.”

“You're abandoning us?” Lefou sputtered.

“One of us has to get to home to give them word,” Captain Kail replied, sounding disgusted. Gaston couldn't blame her. It bothered him that he sympathized with a woman about anything.

---<>---<>---

 

“Think we can catch them?” Lieutenant Riot asked eagerly, looking at the neochimp navigator. She felt his eyes on her and looked up. She turned back to her console and frowned.

“If we pick up speed, we can. But we'll burn through a lot of fuel doing it. That will shorten our stay here by weeks,” Ensign Ham stated after a moment of number crunching.

“Just chasing them is going to do that in the first place,” Captain Gruber stated. His secondary orders had been plain; if they could, they were to engage the fleeing ships and destroy or capture them. Of course he hadn't expected to actually need to follow those orders now, had he? He shook his head at the thought. Now he was in for it. There was no way his tiny crew could man three ships. No way.

“What do you think they'll do? Stay together?”

“If they do we can overhaul them, sir. But …,” Riot turned a dubious look on the captain.

“Let's worry about that situation when it comes to it,” the captain replied. He didn't like the idea either.

“The two ships are picking up speed, sir. The
Clydesdale
is pulling ahead. No, they are splitting up,” Jim stated. He frowned and tapped at his computer console then looked at Ensign Ham.

“Can't figure it out?” the chimp asked, smiling slightly.

“I'm a techy not a nav,” the rating said, shaking his head.

“That's okay. We all have our faults,” she said with a voice dripping in mock soothing tones. He waited until she wasn't looking to stick his tongue out at her. “I saw that,” she said mildly. He snorted.

“The
Clydesdale
has set course for the B-97a jump point, sir. The
Cygnus
is limping, but she's going for Nuevo Madrid. We'll never catch them both now, sir.”

“Who do we go after?” Lieutenant Riot asked, turning to look at the captain.

---<>---<>---

 

The two ships had split up so the frigate couldn't overhaul both of them.
Charlatan’s Prayer
had the easier run to Nuevo Madrid jump point. The run was shorter, but the wounded ship lumbered like a limping animal.

Gaston had expected the enemy frigate to latch onto the more wounded of the two ships, but instead, she'd kept her course on
Moldy
Crow's
tail. Apparently the ship's captain had shared his dim assessment of the
Cygnus's
chances to get to another port safely.

He didn't like being chased. It burned like lava. “We're supposed to be doing the chasing here!” he finally erupted, then began to pace.

“Yeah, well, someone didn't tell them that,” Captain Media said acidly, waving a hand to the enemy frigate. Their free run was over he thought moodily. The empire had a real threat on its hands; one it hadn’t' expected in the Rho sector. He wasn't sure why the empire had left it for so long. Sure they'd kept a low profile and the emperor hadn't elevated himself from supreme secretary until a few years ago. It had been according to some plan; some strategy he could dimly see. But apparently they hadn't anticipated much resistance so close to Rho. From the propaganda he had heard and bought into, they were supposed to roll over the sector and surrounding sectors like a tidal wave.

“I don't like being on the receiving end of this shit,” the earl snarled, purpling with his impotent rage.

“I don't either,” Captain Media said mildly, looking at the man and then away.

“Well, we're going to do something about it, just you wait and see, Captain,” the earl vowed.

“I just wish I could be there when it happens,” the captain growled, turning back to the earl.

“If I have anything to say about it, you will,” Gaston replied.

---<>---<>---

 

“Make sure Admiral Frost is aware of the threat and takes appropriate action. But do try to stress to him that it will be unwise to act impulsively,” Captain Media told
Charlatan's Prayer
over their laser link.

His chief engineer had spooled up their hyperdrive for the last two hours of their journey across the star system. Doing so had diverted some of the power from the sublight drive and other systems. They had lost some ground to the hunter coming up behind them, but the drive was primed to go early. They were in the process of braking to the jump point, however.

“We're losing communications due to the drive so goodbye and good luck,” he said, cutting the link. “To the both of us, he muttered.

He had taken the earl's advice and jinked several times, even accelerating once, getting the enemy ship to adjust course and pick up speed before he'd cut into the braking maneuver. The fake out had worked; the chasing ship had lost them momentarily due to the lens effect at going at such high velocities. The different speeds had apparently thrown their timing off just enough to give the lumbering ship a slight edge. A slight one he thought, checking the numbers again. He suppressed a shiver. Even with their slight lead, it would be close. If there was one slip-up when they jumped, it would be over he thought sourly.

When they got to the minimum edge of jump zone, they jumped just ahead of the frigate entering her outer engagement zone. To the earl it was almost heart stopping.

“Now that's what I call a run,” Captain Media said, shaking his head. He took out a handkerchief and blotted at his sweat stained head. The earl wrinkled his nose and looked away.

“All systems stable.”

“Will they follow?”

“I doubt it,” the captain replied. “Their heart wasn't in that chase. I believe they are going to picket the star system, however.”

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