The Heart of Matter: Odyssey One (35 page)

▸“GIGATON-LEVEL DETONATIONS, Captain!”

“What?” Eric Weston snapped upright in his seat, his relaxed posture ramrod straight in an instant. “Where?”

“At the edge of the system, sir,” Winger reported. “I’m reading…no less than five separate detonations in the multiple-gigaton range.”

“Jesus…” someone whispered.

“Someone really needs to take all these dangerous toys away from the children, Captain,” Commander Roberts said dryly as he shook his head.

Eric grimaced at the comment, thanking God that there were no members of the Priminae people aboard at the moment, but couldn’t exactly disagree. Every weapon these two combatants seemed to field was a masterwork of brute force and sheer overkill. Further, both sides had developed general systems and armors that defended themselves against weapons of a similar nature.

Which meant that, for the
Odyssey
, it was like standing between two clumsy giants intent on batting each other’s brains out with very large, and very unwieldy, clubs.

“We’ve got a problem, Captain,” Jason Roberts said a moment later.

“What is it, Commander?”

“Radiation levels are rising—fast.”

“This far out?” Eric asked, unbelieving.

“Aye, sir.”

“Send me the data,” he ordered crisply, pulling his display closer.

A moment later, he let out an unhappy sound as he noted that the sudden increase in radiation levels had gone far beyond the normal levels for a star system of this nature. The
Odyssey
was, of course, well protected against radiation. It had to be, in fact, since any given star put out a lot more than any bomb.

However, those bombs were a lot closer then the system primary, and they were also, apparently, very, very, dirty. The levels outside continued their fast rise as the
Odyssey
slid through the leading wave of the blast, and the slower-moving, but more lethal, particles began to slam into her hull.

Worse, the adaptive armor was the first line of defense against radiation, and in its black hole stealth setting, it was all but inviting the lethal doses in for coffee. The
Odyssey
had more protection, of course, including layers of carbon fiber sandwiched with graphite and other composites that also served to insulate the big ship, and those secondary defenses were, or should have been, more than enough for any near strikes from nuclear sources.

Something here wasn’t adding up.

“Michelle,” Eric snapped, “confirm the range.”

“Aye, sir,” Winger said, recalculating range to targets. “Five-point-two-one light-minutes, Captain.”

“Damn it, Lieutenant, that’s not possible!” Eric growled, running the figures in his head. “The maximum lethal range on an enhanced-radiation warhead is no more than a hundred and fifty thousand kilometers at these sizes.”

Winger gulped, but nodded. “Aye, sir. I…don’t know what to say, Captain.”

Eric forced himself to relax. There was nothing she
could
say, of course. She knew as well as he did that the inverse square law was supposed to be on their side in this matter; the radiation from the explosions should be barely detectable at this range, except as an impressive flare in the distance.

Whatever it was doing, it sure as hell wasn’t supposed to be bombarding his stealthed armor and rendering a third of his outer hull just as radioactive as the nastiest dirty bomb he’d ever heard of. And that was the biggest problem at the moment, not the theory of why the situation was impossible, but the very real fact that the neutron flux was building in the
Odyssey
’s armor, and in short order, the
Odyssey
herself would be perpetuating the situation by generating her own lethal rads.

“Damn it!” Eric cursed. “Radiation alert! Secure from black hole settings. Take our armor to best general reflection.”

“Sir, our stealth—”

“I know, Commander,” Weston said, interrupting. “And this blast of radiation is going to light us up like a Christmas tree, but it’s better than dying slowly of radiation poisoning in twelve months.”

Roberts nodded grimly, saying nothing.

Weston activated the intercom. “This is the captain speaking. This is a general quarters alert. Prepare for combat and high-stress maneuvering. I say again, this is a general quarters alert.”

The general quarters alarm sounded then, joining the radiological alarm that was already echoing throughout the ship.

“Take us to full military power, Mr. Daniels. All power to drives and counter-mass generation,” Eric growled. “Mr Waters, have all weapons brought up from standby and release the safety locks on the pulse torpedo tubes.”

“Aye, sir,” they both responded as the hum of capacitors charging began to whine through the hull.

“Ms. Winger, distance to lead Drasin vessel?”

“Three-point-two light-minutes.”

“Very well,” Eric told her. “Begin a countdown, Michelle, starting from the moment of armor shift.”

“Aye, sir.” Lieutenant Winger nodded instantly.

“That’s it for hide-and-seek, ladies and gentlemen,” Eric announced then. “We know that they’re going to see us, and we know
when
they’re going to see us. Now, let’s make sure that they never, ever forget the sight.”

PRIMINAE VESSEL HERALC
Ranquil System

▸“THE
VULK
HAS deployed nuclear explosives, Captain.”

Kierna nodded grimly, though he’d expected nothing less. The
Vulk
was not pulling any of its blows, but that was fine. He didn’t intend to do so, either.

“Shields?”

“Low, but enough to protect us, sir.”

“Continue on course, then,” the captain of the injured vessel growled, his eyes watching the projections intently.

Only minutes were left now, and he could once again be in contact with the enemy. He’d deny it to his dying breath, but there was a part of him that eagerly anticipated it, courted the violence that was to happen, even. He didn’t reflect on what that meant, didn’t consider how deeply he’d been changed from the man he had been only a short time earlier.

Such things didn’t matter to him now.

Only the enemy did.

“Sir!”

“What is it?” he growled, shaking away the chill that had filled him, and glared at the young woman at the scanner station.

“Another ship, sir! It just appeared.”

“Where? Show me!”

The ship in question blinked into being on the main projection, blazing white against the black of space as it shifted in space and came under power.

“Is it Drasin?”

“Nothing I’ve ever seen, Captain.”

Capt. Kierna Senthe glared at the projection. “But it’s not one of ours?”

“No, sir.”

“Acquire it,” he ordered, a deathly calm in his tone.

NACS ODYSSEY
Ranquil System

▸“TWO MINUTES TO detection.”

The calm way Michelle Winger said it merely underscored the thread of tension filling the bridge as the
Odyssey
continued to increase speed as she vectored in on the enemy ships.

Eric watched the screen carefully, mentally running the figures himself to be sure of their accuracy, waiting as the probabilities ran down. Since the
Odyssey
had been waiting in stealth, while the approaching Drasin cruisers had not been even trying to hide their position, they had a significant advantage at the moment.

Those numbers, though, were offset by the fact that the
Odyssey
didn’t really know precisely where the Drasin were. If they were to fire lasers at the enemy positions from this range, the computers calculated a 4.3 percent chance of scoring any hit and less than a quarter of 1 percent chance of disabling or destroying the target. The odds were slightly better with the pulse torpedoes, due to their homing ability; however, the energy-cost ratio made risking those prohibitive.

The
Odyssey
had to close the distance to their enemy quickly so that they were close enough to open fire at or before
the time that the enemy finally received the glare of radiation reflecting off their armor. Once that first contact was made, Eric estimated that they had five, maybe ten seconds before the Drasin realized that the new contact wasn’t, in fact, sitting still but was actually accelerating right down their throat like a “bat out of hell,” as Winger had put it earlier.

At that point, the Drasin would react, returning fire and/ or commencing evasive maneuvering.

Given the fact that, even under full weigh, the
Odyssey
had certain basic physical limitations that would prevent her from accelerating much past a third the speed of light under the current time and distance restrictions, the enemy was going to know they were coming while the
Odyssey
was still almost two full light-minutes out.

He certainly could have wished to get closer.

“Waters?” Eric asked.

“All systems ready to fire, Captain,” Waters replied instantly.

“Good. We’ll lead with the pulse torpedos,” Eric told the young man. “Arrange a staggered firing pattern. I don’t want any more than a one-degree variance at two light-minutes.”

“Aye, sir. Programming now.”

“Helm?”

“Tactical evasion maneuvers are being compiled as we speak, sir,” Daniels said confidently. “We’re ready to make things just a little hard on their gunners.”

“Excellent.” Eric permitted himself a smile as he counted himself lucky for the men and women he’d been privileged to command. “Commander, I think we may as well go ahead and sound battle stations. Let the crew know that we’ll be in the thick of it in just a few more minutes.”

“Aye, sir.”

The general quarters alert had long since faded, but was now replaced by the urgent signal that denoted imminent combat.

PRIMINAE VESSEL HERALC
Ranquil System