Far Space (6 page)

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Authors: Jason Kent

BOOK: Far Space
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Wouldn’t they?

Then again, Ian thought, this was turning out to be a not-so-ordinary day.

Ian plunged through the exit hatch and led Jennifer down to the lowest level of the car to the main airlock. He crossed the compartment and walked up to one of the recessed lockers set around the wall. Markers declared the lockers were for emergency use only and should be opened under the direction of trained crew members.

Jennifer read the rest of the placard. “Emergency Egress and Re-entry System.” She stepped back and crossed her arms. “You planning on going somewhere?”

Ian ran his hand over the instructions for the EERS suits. Putting it on seemed as idiot-proof as it had sounded during the emergency procedure brief he had mostly ignored before the car had left the earth-port. He popped the locker panel and cringed, waiting for an alarm to sound. When nothing happened, he reached for an EERS pack.

“Gateway Station is one of the largest structure in Earth orbit,” Ian said. He pulled out a sealed package containing an emergency suit and associated gear, all stuffed into a helmet.

Jennifer gave him a hard stare.

“If those ships decide to attack, Gateway will be a primary target. They’ll be hit first,” Ian explained. “When that happens, the cable we’re climbing is likely to be severed.”

“Centripetal balance between the end of the tether reaching out beyond the station and the end reaching down to the surface keeps everything in balance,” Jennifer said. “If the tether is cut, the Earthside of the tether will…”

“Let’s just say we go back down a lot faster than we came up.”

USS Schriever, Century-Class Orbital Patrol Craft

Geosynchronous Orbit

“Our new friends have arrived,” Pearl noted. He pointed at the main screen where a computer-generated map of Earth-space was displayed. It included icons representing all weapons-bearing ships and satellites in orbit. Only four, including the Schriever, were bracketed by a red triangle, indicating a live weapons status.

“Looks like the LeMay and the Brits have also decided to keep their weapons hot,” Mitchell noted.

Yates nodded. The two active British patrol craft, the HMS Dominant and HMS Excalibur, were under standing orders to defend British interests in orbit. Knowing the British commanders, Yates was not surprised at the stance they were taking.

White icons indicating civilian ships and manned stations were scattered all over the map with heavy clusters in geostationary orbit.

Six arrow-head icons represented the approaching, as-of-yet unidentified, ships. The Schriever was holding station at geosynchronous just seven degrees off-axis from the incoming trajectory of the new ships.

“Looks like we’re first up to bat,” Yates said, noting his spacecraft was about to become the closest combatant within range of the alien vessels.

“Fire up the engines,” Yates said. “Heading Delta-3.”

“Sir?” Captain Adrienne Maytree looked up from the pilot’s console. She had been on her sleep cycle when the original Explorer message had been received. With the arrival of the alien ships in Jupiter Space, all hands had been called to battle stations.

“Delta-3,” Yates repeated. “Now.” Delta-3 would fling the ship on a high-acceleration burn which would bring the Schriever back to a low earth orbit in a little over two hours. He understood Maytree’s concern. Ignoring the order to power down the weapons was one thing. Sending the ship on an attack vector was quite another. From their current position, their new course would bring Schriever across the paths of the alien vessels.

“In for a penny, in for a pound,” Pearl muttered.

Maytree tapped her console, beginning the engine ignition sequence.

“Sit back and enjoy the ride, guys,” Pearl said, clearly pleased at the chance to throttle up his power plants to the maximum capacity.

“Incoming projectiles,” Mitchell reported calmly.

“Ours or theirs?” Yates asked. He had half expected Colorado or the ESA to try and take him out before he caused an interstellar scene.

“Theirs,” Mitchell said. “Probably rail gun slugs. They’ll pass behind us.”

“They fired before we maneuvered,” Reeves said, staring blankly at the forward display. “They had to have launched at least a minute earlier for them to just be arriving.”

“Be sure CCAOC is getting this, Lieutenant,” Yates said. When he got no response, he raised his voice, “Reeves!”

“Yes sir!” the young officer said, jumping to his task.

Yates glanced down at his status board, relieved and terrified his instincts had proven right. He had not dragged his crew down an insubordinate path for nothing. At least they now had a fighting chance against this new enemy.

“The LeMay is taking hits,” Mitchell reported. “They are thrusting to engage.”

“Looks like our friends out there took long shots at everyone in sight,” Pearl noted.

“Two ESA frigates are broadcasting emergency beacons!” Reeves said.

Yates nodded. The ESA now served as the military space arm of the EU. Their rules of engagement were even more convoluted than those guiding US military spacecraft. They had not even had their defensive weapons powered up. Easy prey for an attacker.

“We have missiles inbound,” Mitchell said. “More rail gun rounds in fifteen seconds.”

“Initiate auto-combat sequence Bravo-6,” Yates ordered.

“Bravo-6,” Mitchell acknowledged, tapping a string of commands on his keypad.

“Crud,” Pearl muttered. He yanked on his harness cinch straps and grabbed the arms of his seat. “Crud, crud, crud.”

“At your pleasure, sir,” Mitchell prompted.

“Lord, please don’t let us screw up,” Yates said before acknowledging the command with a single keystroke.

Deep in the hardened core of the Century-Class vessel, the heart of a warrior lay in wait for this command to bring it to life. The heavily shielded computer system, dubbed the Offensive Combat System, or OCS, readied by Mitchell’s preparatory command, had sent out electronic feelers throughout the vessel. OCS read power levels, weapons status, thruster and fuel availability, and nav data. The automated defense system devoured the latest sensor data from the radar, laser, and optical inputs, as well as the feeds picked up by the antenna nets embedded in the outer armor. It tapped into information from every satellite the US controlled and some it did not. The warrior’s time had come.

At Yates command, the OCS took control of the ship. In the age of powerful laser weapons and hyper-velocity projectiles, human-in-the-loop defensive systems had become obsolete – ineffective due to the time lapses between registering a threat and taking the appropriate counter-action. High speed computers cut response times to nanoseconds and also avoided another problem commonly encountered with human operators; hesitation.

Yates had barely brushed the ‘Enter’ tab on his keypad when Schriever lurched into a gut-wrenching rapid roll and pitch maneuver. The ship groaned and shuddered so much he was sure they had taken a hit. The dreaded thought hit him; he had been too late in letting the OCS take over. When the ship shuddered into a slower roll then wild yaw, he let out his breath, relieved to still be in one piece. For better or worse the lightning fast reflexes of the Schriever had taken over.

“DLS has fired fourteen times,” Mitchell said.

Yates nodded. The Defensive Laser System, now under the control of OCS was engaging incoming missiles and rail-gun slugs. The ship rocked moments later, hit by vaporized metal and broken missile parts.

“No damage,” Reeves shouted, straining forward in his seat harness. “Armor is good!”

“More incoming,” Mitchell said.

“Great,” Pearl muttered.

“Look for a chance to engage!” Yates shouted. He gritted his teeth and swallowed hard as the OCS accelerated the roll rate and pitched end-for-end. Yates hoped the move was meant to bring the rail guns, embedded in line with the spine of the ship, to bear on their attacker.

“One clean shot, God,” Yates muttered, trying to focus on the displays at his station. “Just one clean shot.”

Ballard Space Elevator

Earth Space

Ian stared at the suit in his hands for a moment. He realized if his hunch about the approaching alien ships was wrong, he was going to be in quite an embarrassing situation. He mentally tallied the actions he had taken which could come back to haunt him; he had leapt to conclusions about the intent of the alien invaders, dragged a cute, but nearly complete stranger down to a secluded compartment, broken the seal on an emergency locker despite the dire warnings against doing such a thing, and was about to suit up in an environmental suit specifically designed for emergency egress even though there was not yet any damage to the elevator tether, station, or car.

I will never live this down, Ian thought. A long list of possible nicknames his unit was bound to tag him with scrolled through his mind with ‘Fool’ or ‘Jumper’ near the top. ‘Fool’ because that was how he was starting to feel. ‘Jumper’ because he had assumed something about the aliens, was getting ready to egress from the elevator car, and someone was bound to assume he had ulterior motives with the girl.

Ian looked from the seal on the locker, now ripped down the tear-seam, to the suit in his hands, to Jennifer, who was staring back at him. She would think he was an idiot if they ended up not needing the suits.

I’ve already painted myself into a pretty good corner, Ian thought, might as well put on the dunce’s cap.

But, if these suits saved their necks, if his actions proved to be prescient, Ian knew of two likely outcomes. If the elevator were attacked directly, he, Jennifer, and the rest of those on board would probably never know what hit them. It would not matter if they had suits on or not. On the other hand, an attack further up the line might give them the time needed to escape. The suits would ensure Jennifer had a shot at survival.

Two scenarios, only one with an outcome Ian could control. His face split into a wide grin.

Jennifer could not help smiling back. “What?”

“Just thinking,” Ian responded, noting Jennifer had a dimple on her left cheek and just about the most perfect teeth he had ever seen. He tossed the emergency suit pack in his hands to her and broke the seal on a second locker. Reaching for the egress pack inside, he knew exactly what he was going to do.

If the EERS suits saved their lives, Ian would automatically ascend to the heady heights of Mt. Olympus where gods and heroes dwelt. He would be a fool for ignoring his instinct.

Ian ripped the bag open.

USS Bernard Schriever

Earth Space

“Hull sensors are registering multiple high energy events,” Mitchell grunted as the ship launched itself into yet another high-gee maneuver. The Offensive Combat System sensed the laser events and was reacting in a manner it calculated would give the Shriever the most probable chance of survival.

“Damage?” Yates managed to say past chattering teeth. Yates tensed his body to keep the blood from draining from his head during the ship’s gyrations.

“Laser hit on the engine section,” Mitchell reported. “The hull plates seem to have shrugged it off.”

“Didn’t feel like shrugging to me,” Reeves said, “it felt more like we were getting…”

“Hold up there, son!” Pearl called. He caressed the top of the engineering console. “Don’t listen to the miscreant, honey. You just keep doing your thing.”

“More energy events,” Mitchell reported, his hands flying over his control board. “OCS is reporting targeting pings.”

“Got it,” Yates said, taking in his master display. Red circles high-lighted the projected points of impact. Yates barely had time to register the full board status before the OCS increased thrust and altered the roll and pitch rates. “The plating will hold.”

The carbon-nanotube-reinforced add-on armor pieces were ugly but functional. The overlapping sections were designed to burn away under the onslaught of the laser weapons, deflect kinetic rounds, and detonate proximity-fuse weapons away from the pressure hull or other critical equipment. Yates knew the armor alone was not enough to stop everything. The survival of a space combat vessel depended on a system such as the OCS putting the spacecraft in a location and attitude the adversary had not expected. Wedded together, the ship’s exoskeleton and warrior soul reduced the effectiveness of any weapons employed against the Schriever. Hopefully, Yates thought as his vessel shuddered under the fresh onslaught.

“Keep it together, baby,” Pearl grunted. He clutched the sides of his console to keep his face centered over the power systems display. “Keep it together.”

Bullard Space Elevator

Earth Space

Ian pulled the egress suit over his legs and was working on his left arm when the elevator shuddered violently.

“What was that?” Jennifer said, eyeing the ceiling of the compartment as if she could see through the top of the elevator and along the tether to the source of the disturbance.

“For one thing we’ve stopped,” Ian said as he began rising off the floor. He managed to grab a handhold. “The car’s movement was pulling everything to the earth-side of the car.”

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