First Comes Duty (The Hope Island Chronicles Book 2) (15 page)

Thirty-five minutes of scrupulous investigation by the lone fighter had gleaned no further information on the anomaly. The interference appeared and disappeared intermittently. Bradman’s experience told him something was wrong. 

“Flash feed from Outrider Four, captain,” the D-O said. “Hylon rift detected.”

“Instruct the Kyushu Maru to begin immediate emergency braking. Bring the convoy to a dead stop.”

Maneuvering around the anomaly while in hyperspace could throw off their navigation by a massive degree. The only safe option was to egress to N-space and make a course correction from there.

Contact with a Hylon rift could do worse than kill a boat and its crew. The hyperspace tear contained Hylon radiation, not conducive with the magnetic machinations of any ship, least of all a monitor while in stealth mode. Or a fighter, for that matter.

A fully formed Hylon rift could rip the mag plating from a boat or rupture its hull. The effect on a boat’s onboard systems would be devastating. A boat might survive the encounter with a rift if the reactor scrammed into automatic shutdown mode quickly enough. Hylon radiation and reactors never got along well. So if the reactor did not blow, and the violent, sudden egression through hyperspace before being thrust back into N-space did not tear the boat apart, the crew faced a whole new set of problems. With no power, eventually there would be no life support.

There did not exist within the Tunguska Fault a space mariner who did not hate, fear and respect encountering a Hylon rift.

Like any good killer, the rift did not shout its intention to kill you. It drew you in slowly, and when you were close enough, it tore you to pieces.

“Captain, Kyushu Maru confirms your order and is applying full emergency braking. I have dispatched Outrider Five to assist.”

“Outrider Five?”

“Yes Captain, the second alert fighter.” Reiffel glanced at him curiously before returning to her readouts.

Yes, the first thing to go wrong on this deployment and naturally Telford is in the middle of it.

“Receiving telemetry from Outrider Four, Captain.”

Bradman brought up his holo menu, selected navigation and examined the incoming data from the D-O’s console. The rift must be big, considering the influence it exerted on scans at this range. The seat harness dug into his body as
Insolent
matched braking with the freighter. 

“Helm, report.”

“Zero accel in one-four-zero seconds. Projected egression point is in clear space.” 

“I concur, Captain,” the D-O said.

So did Bradman. “Very well, helm. D-O, inform the Kymu of the situation and tell her to prepare for ingression. Recall both fighters.”

“Aye-aye, Captain, sending flash feed to Kyushu Maru now.”

So, Bradman thought, all is once again well with the world.

“Captain,” Reiffel said, “flash feed from Outrider Four. Ensign Whitney is declaring an emergency.”

***

Nathan pushed the throttles onto the red line as soon as Whitney declared an emergency. Extending the magnification of his forward holo panels to maximum showed the problem. A massive rift, one of the legendary category fives. While he approached Whitney’s position, discharge from the rift began impacting on his systems.

His flash feed beeped: Whitney, following up on his original distress call.  The only words Nathan could decipher were “caught, cannot break fr—”, then a wash of static tore the signal to pieces. He hoped Whitney sat outside of the distortion zone. Nathan sent a flash feed to
Insolent
.

“ETA to O/R Four is eighty-two seconds.” After a few seconds of lag time, the reply came through as scrambled gibberish.

“Outrider Four, report your condition.” A scream of static replied. Too far away. Closer to the rift he could sense its influence, like a hand slowly closing around his throat. Even with his forward holo panels pushed to maximum, the swirling mass of energy obscured any sign of O/R Four. Then he caught an energy spike and zeroed in on its location. “Oh, shit.”

Whitney had not only stumbled upon a Hylon rift, he had been sucked into it. Nathan reconfigured his comm to send a straight-band signal to Whitney, and by channeling additional power he hoped to overcome the massive interference.

“Outrider Four, reply to my signal.” Nathan caught snippets over his earpiece and boosted additional power into the band. “Outrider Four, this is Telford, reply to my signal.” The pull from the rift was no longer subtle. He would have to veer away soon or he, too, would be caught, together with the luckless ensign.

“Nathan, can you hear me? Nathan?” There was panic in Whitney’s voice. Panic that could kill him.

“Reading you, strength two. Report your status.”
Fucked, by the look of it
. 

“It’s got me, Nathan, it’s got me. Help me, please help me.”

Whitney was beyond help. Even if
Insolent
were here right now, she would be powerless to save him.

“Whitney, use your main engines, and override the scram. Push your reactor to twenty percent over the red line and give it one major push. Throw in the thrust engines as well, and it might break you free.”       

“Roger.”

Nathan’s suspicions were confirmed in short order. Whitney must have been right on top of the rift when it formed. 

“Outrider Five, no effect,” Whitney said. “I’m slipping into the rift. Help me, Nathan. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. Please help me.”

No force in the universe could extract a vessel caught so deep within a newly formed rift. However, Nathan had been toying with an idea, and now appeared to be as good a time as any to test it.

“Whitney, this is Nathan.” He paused for a moment. “Who is the best pilot?”

“What?”

“Who is the best pilot out here?”

“You are.”

“Good. You have one chance of surviving this. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Then bring your boat around one-eighty degrees. Use your centering scanner to keep you clear of the walls, then apply full emergency power. Put as much energy reserves into your buffers as you can, then scram your reactor when it reaches critical.”

“Go into the rift?”

“Radical, isn’t it?”

“That’s crazy.”

“Perhaps, but if you do nothing you will be dragged into the rift and torn to pieces. All we’ll find on the other side is confetti.” Long, dangerous seconds ticked by. “Do it now or die,” Nathan snapped.

“Roger, coming about now.”

Outrider Four rotated through her axis, paused for a moment before engaging her thrust drives.

“Keep in the dead center,” Nathan urged.

“Thanks, Nathan. I’ll see you on the other side.”

“Hang in there. I
will
find you. I give you my pledge.”

Static scrambled Whitney’s reply as his tiny craft disappeared into the swirling death of the Hylon rift.

CHAPTER 26

Date: 29
^th
February 322 ASC.

Position: Standing off the Triton Archipelago. 

Status: Rescue operations underway.

Broad and focused active scans on every bandwidth had failed to find a trail of debris from Outrider Four. As such, conventional wisdom suggested the vessel and its pilot had egressed from the rift in one piece. His boat would have been totally disabled by the sudden transition, and after two hours the environmentals should be all but depleted. The search continued in the forlorn hope of at least recovering the body.

Adding to the problems faced by the rescue operations was the area of space Whitney had been flung into. The Triton Archipelago floated within a barren region of space containing nothing but debris from long-destroyed worlds. Among the millions of asteroids constituting its huge mass, ninety percent were composed of positively charged iron elements. Attempting to use their grav plating for maneuvering within such an expanse of magnetic interference would prove impossible. So the order had gone out to all fighters and landing boats to locate, but do not attempt to recover, Outrider Four, if it had fallen within the boundaries of the Archipelago.

Three light years from the nearest system, Triton was a black mass of turmoil.

Even so, a chance remained, albeit slight, of recovering their lost pilot. If he had indeed survived egression, and if his backup power had been contained in the buffers, and if his systems had not been entirely fried, and if.… Nathan sighed.

For two hours he had been scouring the perimeter of the archipelago. So far he and his fellow pilots had found nothing. Four fighters and three landing boats could do nothing to slow the steadily beating clock. 

Nathan hugged Triton’s edge as close as he dared take his fragile craft.

“Outrider Five, FOO.” The flash feed transmission from Commander Chappell was scratchy and barely readable.

“Outrider Five,” he replied.

“Report your status.”

“Grid sections one-zero-niner through two-one-eight checked. No contact. Moving on to next grid.”

“Very well, carry on.” 

Yes, carry on
. Carry on in a vain attempt to find a lost fighter within an ocean of disorder. Nathan needed to find a way to tighten the parameters. It had been so much easier on
Truculent
. There his instincts were of some use, but here—

Nathan stopped the rotation of his fighter and pulled back from the edge of Triton.

On
Truculent
, his premonition pain, his Prep, had given him a considerable advantage. Could knowing where danger lay be of use in this situation? 

Nathan closed his eyes and began the rhythmic breathing exercise designed to help him reach a focused meditative state. With his mind and body fully relaxed and approaching theta state, he would try to zero in on anything abnormal. He could sense personal danger, and briefly on
Truculent
he had detected danger to others. Perhaps he could do so again? Whitney might already be dead or unconscious. Could he read danger from an unconscious person?

Nathan rotated his combat chair slowly along an arc covering his search sector. After a few minutes he discovered nothing and moved to the next grid reference. By the time he examined the third grid reference, Nathan had started to doubt that his instinct would work in this manner. Then he caught the slightest of spikes. Edging back, a degree at a time, he zeroed in on it. An overpowering sense of danger straddled the border with sheer terror. That had to be Whitney.

“Insolent, Outrider Five. Have located O/R four and am investigating. Sending grid coordinates now.”

Nathan hoped the captain would approve of his action, since time was of essence.

Pushing the throttles full forward, he took his boat into the black mass of the Triton Archipelago.    

***

“Flash feed from Outrider Five, Captain,” Reiffel said.

“Let’s hear it.”

“Insolent, Outrider Five. Have located O/R Four and am investigating. Sending grid coordinates now.”

Bradman bit back a curse as the transmission ended.

“Tactical, do you have a fix on O/R Five?”

“No, Sir, he disappeared a few seconds ago on a direct heading into Triton.” Vasquez kept her head over her readouts as if trying to avoid the captain’s livid expression. “I only have his last location.”

“D-O, how long since Outrider Four entered the rift?”

“Two hours and twelve minutes, Sir.”

So a chance still remained of recovering his pilot alive. “Put me through to the FOO.”

“Aye, Sir. Channel open. Two-second lag time.”

“Commander Chappell, I am committing this vessel to the search for our lost chick. Recall all fighters to guard the Kyushu Maru. Confirm.”

“Orders confirmed, Captain,” Chappell acknowledged. “Good luck.”

“D-O, I’m going downstairs.” Bradman strode to the centrally positioned combat chair.

“Helm, take us at flank speed to the last known position of Outrider Five,” he said as he strapped into the chair.

“Aye, Captain, coming about now.”

Bradman wondered if time would be on their side. He also wondered if he would have to bury two pilots instead of one.

***

Nathan threaded his way through the archipelago, both thrust engines running at flank speed. He had closed off his stealth engines and mag plating, which were useless within this charged environment. Back to basics, thrust engines and maneuvering thrusters only. 

Triton’s outer core was a dense mass of asteroids, some as small as a grain of sand, some as large as a destroyer. His shields were being constantly struck by the invisibly small impacts, but he easily avoided larger ones.

Time and again he sensed Whitney’s position, only to lose the signal. Frustrated, he brought his boat to a dead stop. All around him, black rocks tumbled end over end, barely discernible from one another within the ebony background. His infrared helped, but only slightly. Nathan slowed his breathing and reached out with his senses. For a few seconds he sensed nothing, then a major spike, then nothing. However, the temporary acquisition gave him a starting point to focus on. After a few seconds, the signal returned briefly before once again disappearing.  

“What the hell?” 

Maneuvering around the tightly packed asteroids, he edged forward. The signal blinked at him, teasing, yet elusive. He could sense his quarry, close at hand. Directly ahead, a large slab of rock became the focal point of his search. Resembling a malformed rectangular slab, it rotated through its axis. Could the monolith be blocking the signal?

Navigating his Specter around the obstruction, he strained to discern anything within the chaotic blackness. With eyes closed, he made tiny adjustments to pitch and yaw until the spot between his shoulder blades flared with pain. He locked on to the heading and nudged his boat forward. Within Triton’s swirling bedlam, one object remained static: Outrider Four. From an outside perspective, the craft appeared undamaged. Nathan could not imagine how the Specter had survived the transition without being pummeled to scrap.

He lowered his undercarriage and clamped his skids on to the top of Whitney’s wounded craft.