Penance (RN: Book 2) (6 page)

The bridge fell to a religious hush and Denz knew he should be giving orders, but like the rest of the crew, he found himself mesmerised by the entity.

“Commander!” The creature so distracted Denz that he hardly noticed the first officer speaking his name.

“Commander, Denz!” Canthouse repeated with a little more necessity. “This entity could represent a significant danger to the ship. I think we should –“ Canthouse fell quiet when Denz raised a silencing finger and the crew continued to stare

“Are we recording?” asked Canthouse.

“Never stopped, sir,” replied Ops.

Damn you Malcolm!
Denz inwardly cursed for not having thought of this. Canthouse’s point about recording the incident struck Denz like a harpoon. It had less to do with gathering data than a subtle stab to say -
OK, Commander, stop gawping at space creatures and control the damn ship!

“Take us away navigator. Easy now; thrusters only.” Canthouse’s calm voice said from somewhere behind.

Cold shame trickled over Denz when he realised it should be him issuing such orders. “Slowly the man said,” he added in an easy tone. He needed to at least give the impression that he was still aware of circumstance.

Canthouse took a small step toward Denz to assert his command presence, “Commander, I think we should –“

“Wait!” Denz said a hand half raised. “It’s stopped.”

“Confirmed. The creature is no longer moving,” Cummings said.

The creature hung motionless in front of the cloud for many long seconds. Then with a slow deliberance, it turned to face the Bristol and slid forward like a distant crocodile stalking a lapping antelope. An action so menacing it made the short hairs on Denz neck bristle with vague fear and he took a step back. “That’s enough curiosity for one day,” he said in a low deliberate tone, his attention still on the screen. “Navigation. Make us a slow turn to port. Bring us about, then twenty percent sub light to the nearest gate point. Priority – egress one!”

“Aye, commander. Priority – egress one,” The navigation officer repeated as a matter of form.

“Do you think ....” Canthouse left the question hanging.

“That it can sense us. I think exactly that.” Denz said with a hint of concern. He glanced sideways at his XO. “You were right by the way in moving the ship. It was the correct thing to do.”

“Maybe a little over precautious, but – “

“No!” Denz said in a tone designed to kill the coming excuse for what was sound reasoning. “I was unnecessarily distracted. The ship could have been endangered. Your actions were sound.” He looked Canthouse square in the eye.“Malcolm, if you wish to file a report,” he said in a subdued tone so the crew couldn’t overhear

“I think it prudent if I do file a report, sir. After all, that’s the largest tadpole I’ve ever seen.” A low smile cracked Canthouse’s face.

Denz gave a low humorous snort and smiled.

“Turn completed. Increasing sub light engines to point two,” the navigator said.

A two tone warning twittered from the ops console.

“Entity is in pursuit, matching our speed,” said Cummings.

Denz looked at the view screen. The creature was little more than a dark speck against a murky green backdrop.

A few moments later a second twitter came from the ops console.

“Creature is increasing speed. Contact in one minute, forty two seconds.”

The image on the view screen appeared the same to Denz, so he walked to the ops console to observe the display. The creature was moving nearly twice as fast as the ship, and increased its speed again as he watched. Time to contact had now reduced to fifty eight seconds.

“Navigation. Increase thrust to point six,” Denz said.

“Aye, sir. Sub light engines increased to point six.”

Denz watched the thrust bar increase on the ops panel, but noticed only a three percent increase in velocity. The relevant distance between the ship and the blinking dot continued to close rapidly. He glanced at Canthouse who stood beside him with a quizzical look on his face.

“Oh my!” Canthouse exclaimed, when with an enormous burst of acceleration the creature again increased its speed. “Navigation! Increase sub light engines to eighty five percent,” he ordered with a hint of concern.

The two officers watched the thrust bar increase in proportion to the order with a mounting apprehension, only to have their concerns validated by a barely perceptible increase in velocity. The relative distance now dropped at an alarming rate.

“Why are we not increasing speed?” asked Denz.

Cummings manipulated the controls in an efficient display of multitasking; setting her screen to split view with the right side cycling through various filters until settling on the gaussmeter. The image was of a grey scale view of the star field in front of the Bristol, with what looked like wispy red jelly fish tentacles saturating the area ahead.

“What the hell is that!” Canthouse cried as he bent closer to the screen. Denz grinned from an inner amusement. This was the first time he had seen or heard his rock steady first officer excited over anything.

“I’m not sure, sir,” Cummings said with a slow shake of the head as she too stared baffled. “Best guess is these tendrils are extensions of the ferrite cloud behind us. They appear to be having some form of magnetic interaction with the metal of the hull. It’s acting like a drogue, slowing us down.” She looked up at the XO.

Denz and Canthouse glanced at each other. Both wore the same furrowed concern.

“Navigation! Flank speed.” Denz said with an urgent snap.

“Commander, Request verbal authorisation to remove thrust limiter,” asked the navigator.

“Approved.” Denz responded. “Time to gate point?”

The navigator worked his keyboard, only for his brow to furrow as he stared at the screen. “The gate point has gone, sir. It was there, but it’s just gone. I can’t explain it.”

“Recalculate.”

The navigator worked quickly. “New gate point calculated at twelve hundred kilometres, 112-231. But, sir, we’re slowing down.”

A double warning gong filled the command deck.

“Entity distance, two thousand two hundred kilometres. Contact in ... twenty two seconds.” Ops reported.

Denz looked at the view screen. The previous dark speck had become an oval silhouette rocking from side to side. “I don’t want to hurt this thing if I can avoid it, but ... ” He grimaced and shook his head.

“Maybe we can distract it. Give it something shiny to chase after.” Canthouse said.

Denz nodded in accord. “Do it.”

Canthouse snapped into action, “Weps! Load star shell, maximum yield. Set target zero five oh, zero plane. To detonate at 1000 kilometres.”

The weapons officer repeated the order as he worked. “Ordinance ready, sir.”

“Fire!”

One of the rear turrets belched a brief pulse of light, and the round arced across the closing distance to detonate exactly 1000 kilometres from the firing point. The star shell burnt with the fiery brilliance of a sun, filling the local area with heat and light. The creature faltered on its course, then veered right to intercept this strange new heat source. The enormous body undulating with a living excitement as it pushed forward with all its strength should this new prey escape.

“It’s taken the bait,” Canthouse said.

“Distance to gate point?” asked Denz.

“Eight hundred kilometres. But sir, were barely moving.” The navigator said with a wondering shake of the head.

Denz looked at the ops display to note the engines at 130% thrust, with the bottom peg of the velocity meter flashing red and the engine temperature gauge nudging 96%. The temperature was his greatest concern. Flank speed pushed the engines well beyond their safe limits and was only to be used for brief periods to avoid or escape lethal contact. A warning chime sounded as the motive systems warning bar turned crimson to indicate the engines had exceeded their heat dispersion parameters. Denz grimaced as he watched the tell-tale on the temperature gauge creeping up. If this continued he risked serious damage to the sub-light drive, but if he reduced thrust their relative speed would drop by a greater factor. There was no choice but to keep the motors burning until they reached the gate point.

The creature had never before encountered such a quarry and its curiosity intensified as it circled the brilliant thing in a lazy glide. The prey did not flee, made no attempt to defend itself and sang in harmonics only it could hear. A voice so beautiful that there could be no more resisting it, so with a flick of the great tail, the creature intercepted the burning ordinance and bit down hard. It shook its head instinctively as it tried to eat, tried to swallow this new prey, but there was no substance and its mouth hurt, so it spat it out.

The creature’s brain was a base collection of nerves in soft fat, disproportionately small in relation to its enormity. Its instincts were predatory, consisting of little more than fleeing what it couldn’t eat and the acquisition of what it could. It knew no emotion, felt no sadness, no disappointment from being deprived of such a beautiful meal. Yet, where before there was only hunger, sparked something new. The low impulse for retribution. The bad tasting food had come from the large prey it could sense in the distance, so with a slow shark like turn it altered course and resumed the pursuit.

The view forward showed nothing but clear space ahead of the ship, with no indication of the magnetic tendrils that the ops screen proved were crossing the path and enveloping the hull of the Bristol like nervous smoke.

Denz’s placed a hand on the trembling operations station to sense the forces that chattered the deck plates as the engines struggled to push the near static ship through the restrictive web. He moved to speak to the navigator only for the familiar twitter to come from the ops console followed by the crashing,
ha-roo, ha-roo
of the calamity alarm filling the command deck.

“What is it?” Denz shouted to Canthouse at the ops station.

“The entity! It’s returning at very high speed. It’s almost on top of us!” Denz could barely hear the first officer over the noise of the calamity alarm.

“I didn’t want to do this but, Weps prepare the rear batteries. View screen.” Denz ordered, pointing forward.

Denz’s face paled, his eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped when the display flickered to reveal a tooth lined maw filling the screen. “Armour!”, he roared.

The ship staggered from the impact with men hurled from their seats and smashed against consoles as the creature shook the ship like a terrier seizing a rat. Denz lay insensible with the left side of his head wet and sticky from where he had been thrown against a wall. He felt as if he’d been kicked by a horse with his head full of whistles and high pitched feedback. A face appeared above his with blood trickling from the temple: Canthouse. His lips were moving but Denz could hear nothing but banshee screams. Then another face: Cummings, with blood matting her red hair and running down the left side of her face to drip from the chin. Canthouse was speaking and making hand gestures to her and she disappeared. Canthouse was saying something, signalling to someone else. Raulin appeared, blood dripping from his nose and left eyebrow. They took Denz under the arms and lifted him against the bulkhead, holding him there as the ship once again stammered. They were both speaking now, but Denz could hear nothing of it. He felt slow and stupid, and it seemed to take an age for his eyes to move from one man to the other.

Cummings appeared with a small bag. She rummaged through it and passed Canthouse a white tube resembling a thin flash light. The first officer said something Denz could not understand, lifted the commanders arm, pulled back the sleeve and jabbed the tube into the exposed flesh. Denz winced from the burning sensation, but it faded quickly and his hearing began to return and his head clear. After several minutes he could hear the rhythmic bleat of the emergency klaxon followed by the general din of the ship in distress, and crew shouting to each other as they tackled the untold problems and system failures all over the ship.

Canthouse and Raulin helped the commander to an uncertain footing, and he gazed about a bridge in total disorder with screens displaced and equipment strewn everywhere. Several of the crew lay amongst the consoles, but they were being moved to the rear and attended to as those who were able continued to work, continued to fight the ship. Flashes were coming from the cracked view screen, with a strange,
thun, thun ... thun, thun
sound he couldn’t place, until he realised it was the main batteries firing in quick succession.

The floor shook and the men had to keep their commander pinned to the wall so he didn’t slide away.

“Status!” Denz said in a near shout, his ears still whistling despite the stimulant.

“The creature really hit us,” Canthouse shouted. “We got the speculative armour up in time but it bit so hard two of the banding generators failed and its teeth impacted the hull. It still has us. I ordered the rear batteries to open fire to try and break us free.”

“Breeching shot!” Denz shouted louder than he realised as he shook Canthouse by the arm. “Soft tissue damage. We need to cause as much soft tissue damage as possible.”