The Star Cross (11 page)

“Keep the
fleet at Condition One, until we’re ready to jump,” Kurt ordered. “Ensign
Pierce, contact the
Newton Princess
and inform Captain Mertz that he can
send the shuttle with the First Contact team.” The First Contact team had
requested to sit down with Grantz to discuss in more detail what would be
occurring at Kubitz and also to learn more about the Controllers. They had
already met with Grantz several times in the past before the fleet had left Newton, as well as talked to him numerous times over the ship’s comm.

A few moments
later, Lieutenant Brooks turned toward the admiral. “Shuttle has departed the
Newton
Princess
. It should be docking in seven to eight minutes. Long-range scans
are showing no unknown contacts.”

Kurt breathed
a sigh of relief. “Take the fleet to Condition Two until further notice.”

“We are
fortunate no Profiteers were waiting for us,” commented Grantz, who had been
called to the Command Center for this dropout from hyperspace. “I suspect there
are numerous small fleets on this side of the cluster, hoping to locate one of
High Profiteer Creed’s cargo ships.”

“Surely he
will have a powerful escort with any ships he sends back?” said Captain Randson.

“He should,” answered
Grantz. “That’s one of the reasons he hired the Dacroni mercenaries. Their
battleships will make for a dangerous escort to any small Profiteer fleet
looking for a quick profit.”

“Shuttle is
docking,” Captain Randson reported. “It will be returning to the
Newton
Princess
shortly. We should be able to reenter hyperspace in twelve to
fifteen minutes.”

-

The minutes
slowly passed. On one of the viewscreens, the shuttle that had brought over the
First Contact team returned to the
Newton Princess
and entered its small
flight bay.

“Contacts!”
Lieutenant Brooks suddenly called out. “Twelve million kilometers. Detecting
scans!”

“They just
dropped from hyperspace,” uttered Captain Randson, as he looked at the tactical
display, now displaying the unknown ships. “They’re way outside of weapons
range.”

“They’ll
locate us shortly,” warned Grantz, while he studied the red threat icons on the
tactical screen and the data displayed. “It looks like a small Profiteer fleet.
Their biggest ship will be an escort cruiser.”

“Four ships
all around six hundred meters in length,” confirmed Lieutenant Brooks, as she
checked the information from the sensor scans.

“Prepare for
combat,” ordered Kurt, leaning forward in his command chair. He had hoped to
leave this system without detection.

Alarms sounded,
and red lights flashed as the Command Center came alive with intense activity while
the crew prepared for possible battle.

“They’ve
detected us,” warned Lieutenant Brooks. “I’m reading active sensor scans. The
four contacts have turned in our direction and are accelerating on an intercept
course.”

“Jump
coordinates are locked in, and the hyperdrive is fully charged,” reported
Ensign Styles. “We can enter hyperspace at any time.”

“All ships
reporting ready to jump,” added Ensign Pierce from Communications.

“Take us into
hyperspace,” ordered Kurt. At least this would be one battle they could avoid.

“Entering
hyperspace,” confirmed Ensign Styles, as he activated the ship’s hyperdrive.

Kurt felt a
momentary wrenching sensation, and then the red threat icons on the tactical
screen vanished. His fleet was safe for now, but they would have to drop from
hyperspace twice more before they reached their destination.

-

Kurt sat in
his quarters behind his desk. They would shortly be dropping from hyperspace
again, and he wanted to catch up on a little paperwork before that happened. He
was tempted to go to the briefing room, where the First Contact team was locked
away with Grantz. He allowed himself to smile briefly. The very concept of a
culture based on profits and thievery was almost unbelievable, at least in
modern times. The Gothan Empire, to put it in simple terms, was nothing more
than a collection of pirates.

Looking down
at the reports on his desk, he let out a deep sigh. Fuel usage, consumables
usage, status of spare parts—the lists went on and on. He allowed his gaze to
shift to a picture of his sister and her family on the right side of his desk.
Denise and Alex had their arms around each other’s waists, and Bryan stood slightly in front, holding a small replica of the
Star Cross
in his
hands. All three had smiles on their faces.

Kurt reached
out and picked up the photo. Family was very important to him; sometimes he
regretted not finding someone special and settling down. However, his career
had always prevented that. He had hoped someday to command one of the large
exploration cruisers but had been given the
Star Cross
instead. Now here
he was, farther from Earth and Newton than any human exploration ship had ever
gone, on a mission bound to encounter numerous and different alien cultures.

“Hyperspace
dropout in twenty minutes,” Captain Randson said over the ship’s comm system.

Letting out a
deep sigh, Kurt replaced the picture. It was time to return to the Command Center. He knew that Andrew was anxious to reach Kubitz and see if they could find
Emily and Alexis.

-

Sitting down
in his command chair, Kurt read the counter on the tactical display, which showed
two minutes until dropout. To his right stood Grantz, who had been summoned to
the Command Center. Lieutenant Tenner, the lead officer for the First Contact
team, had come also.

“Take us to Condition
One,” ordered Kurt. “Contact the
Sydney
and
Dallas
and inform
them to go to Condition One as well.” Traveling together in hyperspace allowed
for short-range communications.

“Dropout!”
called out Ensign Styles.

The last few
seconds quickly passed, and then the
Star Cross
dropped from hyperspace.

Kurt took a deep
breath, as he felt the familiar wrenching sensation. Then he intently watched
the viewscreens come on and the tactical screen update.

“All systems functioning
normally,” reported Captain Randson.

“Energy shield
is up, and all weapons are online,” added Lieutenant Mays.

‘No contacts
on the short-range sensors,” reported Lieutenant Brooks, as her hands moved quickly
over her computer screen, lightly touching different icons.

“Get our next
jump calculated,” ordered Kurt. “All ships will stay at Condition One.”

“
Lansing
is reporting a fluctuation in their hyperdrive power retainment system,” reported
Ensign Pierce. “Their chief engineer says it will take about twenty minutes to
check it. He advises that we don’t jump until they’ve completed their
diagnostics.”

“Understood,” answered
Kurt. “Tell them to get it done as quickly as possible.”

On a main
viewscreen appeared the
Lansing
, among the largest and more modern cargo
ships in the fleet. That was one of the reasons the ship had been chosen to
accompany the fleet on this mission.

“It’s
dangerous to remain here too long,” warned Grantz. “This part of the empire is
heavily traveled by Profiteer ships.”

The minutes
passed slowly by, as they waited for the
Lansing
to finish their diagnostics,
so they could determine if it was safe to jump into hyperspace. The tension in
the Command Center mounted as every extra minute spent in this system risked
the chance of detection. Suddenly warning alarms sounded, and a red light flashed
above the sensor console.

“Unknown
contacts emerging from hyperspace,” reported Lieutenant Brooks nervously. “Distance
is two million kilometers.”

“Put them on a
viewscreen,” ordered Kurt, leaning forward in his command chair.

“Tellurites,”
muttered Grantz unhappily, as he saw the ships and identified the markings.
“They operate a midsize fleet.”

“Who are
Tellurites?” asked Lieutenant Tenner.

“One of the
smaller worlds in the empire,” Grantz informed him. “They operate a number of
small fleets, similar to this one, which routinely prey on inbound cargo
ships.”

“Give me a
ship count and type,” Kurt ordered from Sensors, as he listened to Grantz.

“Eight escort
cruisers and one battlecruiser,” reported Lieutenant Brooks. “They have turned
and are moving toward us at a high rate of acceleration.”

“How long
until the
Lansing
has completed its diagnostics?”

“Five more
minutes,” Captain Randson reported, his eyes focusing on the admiral. “We could
attempt to jump and hope the problem with the hyperdrive system on the
Lansing
is only a computer glitch.”

“No,” Kurt
answered, shaking his head. “We can’t afford to lose the cargo ship. It has the
gold on board that we’ll need to complete our mission on Kubitz.” Kurt thought
over his options. “The fleet will jump as soon as the
Lansing
has
completed her diagnostics and confirmed there are no problems.”

“The
Tellurites will attack as soon as they’re in range,” warned Grantz, his large
eyes narrowing sharply. “They will show your crews no mercy. They want the
cargo ship and possibly your passenger ship as well.”

Kurt activated
the ship-to-ship comm frequency. “All ships, stand by for combat operations.
Newton
Princess
and
Lansing
, you’re to stay behind the
Star Cross
and our two light cruisers. We’ll give you covering fire, until we’re ready to
jump.”

“What if the
Tellurites don’t fire?” asked Andrew, looking over at Grantz. “They may want to
negotiate first.”

“No!” Grantz
said emphatically, shaking his head. “They won’t negotiate. They won’t leave
any witnesses to their attack.”

Kurt gazed at
the tactical screen and the rapidly approaching ships. “Grantz, contact those
ships and tell them to stop their approach, or we’ll fire on them.”

“It won’t do
any good,” Grantz said with a frown, as he walked over to the communications
console.

Ensign Pierce
changed to the frequency Grantz indicated, and sat there listening, while he
warned the inbound ships in the Profiteer language. It only took a moment for a
reply to come back.

“They’re
demanding you drop your shields and power down your weapons,” Grantz reported
grimly. “They say, if you do, that they’ll only search your ships, take
whatever valuables they may find, and then allow you to go on your way.”

“Fat chance of
that,” muttered Captain Randson.

“They can’t be
trusted,” reiterated Grantz, his large eyes gazing intently at Kurt. “You
should fire on them first.”

“They’re
nearly in weapons range,” warned Lieutenant Brooks with a look of concern.

“Stand by to
fire,” ordered Kurt, reaching a decision. He could feel his pulse race. “Both
light cruisers and the
Star Cross
will target the battlecruiser with our
particle beam cannons. Ignore their lighter units for now.”

“Good
decision,” commented Grantz, folding his arms across his chest and gazing expectantly
at the viewscreens.

Andrew focused
on Kurt. “That might let their lighter units get in some hits.”

“True,” Kurt
replied. “But, if we can take out their battlecruiser, the lighter units may
turn back.”

“Do we fire
first?” asked Andrew, looking unsure. Then, in a quieter voice, he added, “What
if Grantz lied to us about what the Tellurites said?”

“I didn’t
lie,” Grantz said, overhearing Andrew’s comment. “I signed the contract. You
can trust me.”

Kurt gestured
toward the tactical screen and the rapidly approaching Profiteers. “Does that
look like a peaceful formation?”

Andrew shook
his head and went to stand behind the tactical station, in case he was needed.

“Weapons are
ready to fire,” reported Lieutenant Mays, as she spoke to her tactical
officers. “Targeting the battlecruiser with our particle beam cannon.”

Kurt toggled on
the ship-to-ship communications. “Lock particle beams on target and prepare to
fire.”

“Combat
range,” Lieutenant Brooks said, her face whiter than normal.

“Fire!”
ordered Kurt, his eyes focused sharply on the tactical display.

“Firing,”
reported Lieutenant Mays from Tactical.

-

From the bow
of the
Star Cross
, a dark blue particle beam flashed forth to strike the
energy shield of the inbound Tellurite battlecruiser. From the
Dallas
and the
Sydney
additional beams lashed out, striking the alien ship. The
enemy’s screen flared brightly, and then one of the beams penetrated, striking
the bow section of the vessel. A brilliant explosion erupted when the beam
struck the hull, and debris began drifting away from the ship. The ship’s
energy screen seemed to flicker, and another particle beam penetrated it,
blasting a huge glowing gash in the side of the now partially disabled Tellurite
battlecruiser.

The two light
cruisers turned broadside and opened fire with their laser turrets and railguns,
pounding the weakening shield with their fire. Then the screen failed completely,
and the weapons fire from the two light cruisers tore open compartment after
compartment rapidly disabling the battlecruiser.

-

“Launch a
Hydra missile,” ordered Kurt between clenched teeth. “Let’s finish her off.” He
wanted this battle over with as quickly as possible before any of his ships
could be damaged. With their fleet so far from Newton, there would be no way to
implement major repairs.

From the
Star Cross
a
small Hydra missile launched from one of the ship’s missile tubes. The missile
contained a ten-kiloton warhead, which smashed into the Tellurite
battlecruiser. The ship vanished in a brilliant flash of light, as a small sun
appeared in its location.