Into the Black: Odyssey One (28 page)

“Why would we want to sleep?”

Milla sighed, “The technology of this ship is undoubtedly effective, but it is not pleasant. What they call transition is…, difficult to describe. Please accept my word that you would prefer not to experience it.”

While some of the people were inclined to accept Milla at her word, the majority were voicing strong objections, when Doctor Rame walked in with a contingent of medical personnel.

“I’m afraid the Captain has ordered short-term sedation, for all passengers.”

Immediately protests were heard through the room, causing Titualar Saraf to step forward. “I object, Docteur. You cannot drug us like this.”

Rame sighed, “We don’t have a choice, Ma’am. Right now your people outnumber our crew. We have had to completely clear most of this habitat and a sizable portion of the other decks, to house your people. We don’t have sufficient security or medical personnel to deal with the effects of Transition, on your people.”

“If it’s that dangerous Docteur, why do you use it?” She demanded.

“The Transition drive is physically harmless. However, none of your people have been cleared psychologically and you are utterly unprepared for the effect it may have on your minds,” Rame told her flatly, without rancor in his voice.

Saraf was about to argue further, when Weston stepped through the door into the room. “I’m sorry Titualar, but this is necessary.” Weston paused for a moment, considering, “I will permit you and Miss Chans to join us on the bridge, while we Transition. But the rest of your people must sleep through it.”

Faced with Weston’s implacable position, Saraf and the others backed down, leaving Weston breathing much easier. An uprising among the refugees would have complicated matters incredibly. He quietly lead Milla and Saraf toward the ships lift, the three of them carefully making way for the medical personnel that had filled the hallways.

“Why are all these medics here?” Saraf watched the men and women passing with suspicion.

“When we pump the aesthetic into the air system, they have to watch for potential allergies and the like. We want your people to sleep through the Transition, but we’re not willing to risk their lives or health for it.”

Saraf and Milla nodded, accepting the Captain at his word, for the moment. The trio took the next available lift directly to the bridge, stepping into the Odyssey’s command center less than thirty minutes from the systems gravity threshold.

*****

Two minutes after the Odyssey completed its transition, a now familiar state of controlled chaos, ruled on the bridge. Weston was examining sensor reports from all decks while Commander Roberts coordinated system wide checks to insure no damage had occurred and been missed. All of the bridge crew was frantically trying catch up with the data pouring in from the sensors and Milla Chans was trying fervently to calm down Titualar Saraf, who had just experienced her first Transition.

Weston, for the most part, ignored the conversation going on behind him. The words were flying back and forth a bit too fast for the translators to adequately keep up with the conversation. Short buzz words and phrases echoed back to him, eliciting the occasional grin around the bridge, ‘Appalling’, ‘Unnatural’ and ‘Insane’ being the bridge crews favorites.

After the brief downtime caused by the transition, the sensor had resumed feeding real-time data to the bridge terminals, resulting in a rapid cooling of humors around the bridge.

“Sir, we’re reading the residuals of a firefight from in-system.” Commander Roberts was the first to speak.

“Signature?”

“Two. The first matches the Drasin vessel we encountered earlier. Number two falls within estimated parameters for the fleet, we found destroyed.”

Saraf found herself abruptly alone, as Milla’s attention swivelled to lock onto the conversation and reports echoing across the bridge.

“Get their locations and plot us a safe course, to observe the battle.”

“Aye Captain.”

Milla took a step forward, face tight. “Observe?”

Half turning in his seat, Weston caught a glimpse of outrage on her face. “Yes, observe. This isn’t our war, Miss Chans, if we can avoid fighting it, we will.”

Besides Milla, Titualar Saraf just stared at the screens, her color gone a pasty white as she listened to Milla’s statements. The Drasin in one of the core worlds was worse than a nightmare, it was Armageddon.

“There are men and women…, humans…, fighting and dying out there, Captain Weston!” Milla pressed.

“You’re military?” Weston asked, almost casually, though there was a hard edge to his voice.

“Of course.”

“Then it’s their job to fight and to die, if the need should arise. It’s not our job.” He replied evenly, gritting his teeth against the words. He didn’t like that fact any more than Milla did, no matter what she may think, but there it was.

Milla was outraged, barely able to keep from shouting. “You fought the Drasin at Port Fuielles.”

“We defended ourselves at Port Fuielles. They initiated combat, most likely believing that we were one of your ships. This is a different matter.”

Milla was obviously looking for something else to say, when Commander Roberts called the Captain’s attention back to the battle.

*****

In what might charitably be called a ‘bunker’ on the fourth planet of the system, a group of uniformed people watched a large screen with frozen hearts, as the drama above them unfolded on the screen, in front of them.

“Captain Duclos has engaged the Drasin, Sir.”

The man in charge, an oddly small gentleman in an impeccable uniform, grunted once to acknowledge the comment, but didn’t look away from the screen. He was Admiral Rael Tanner and he was… nominally… in charge of system defence.

What little of it there was?

“What about the third ship?” He asked finally, eyes flicking away from the battle.

The technician frowned, shaking his head. “Still nothing on them, Sir. They’re circling well clear of the battle…”

“Probably a freighter,” the Admiral replied, eyes still drawn to the new ship for some reason. “They should be running, if they know what’s good for them.”

“Uh… Yes sir,” the technician replied. “But… well, where did they come from?”

That WAS the question, Tanner supposed. The new ship had just appeared from nowhere, literally, amidst a Tachyon surge that lit up every sensor, in the entire system. Whoever, or whatever they were though, they were of no importance, at this moment.

He had a friend out there, giving his life, just to buy a few minutes more.

*****

“It’s over, Sir. The Drasin vessel is moving on the planet.”

Milla looked at the starry view screen in a horror that was echoed across the bridge.

“Planetary defences?” Weston asked in clipped tones, heart dropping as he realized the position he was being pushed into.

“Minimal orbital defences detected, one small station and maybe a dozen defensive satellites, as near as the sensors can tell.” Roberts was staring intently at the information relayed to him from the sensors and the many technicians assigned to interpret them.

“Any readings on ground-based defences?”

“No Sir. Nothing even remotely close to the power rating needed for effective ground to orbit defences.”

Weston slumped back into his seat; he could feel the chill that permeated the Bridge. The situation was forcing him into a decision, he dearly wished to avoid. With a deep sigh that echoed across the bridge he sat up in the seat and slapped the switch that opened a direct line to the Odyssey’s flight deck.

“All Archangels, Scramble! All pilots to their planes, all deck personnel to their stations. This is not a drill. I say again, this is not a drill. Search and rescue crews’ standby for immediate deployment.” The Captain’s voice echoed through the ship, snapping everyone into action.

Milla turned from the screen, looking at the Captain in confusion. “But… I thought…”

Weston sighed as her voice trailed off “We won’t sit back and let them kill all life on an entire world. No matter the circumstance, no one has that right. I would interfere no matter who was on that planet and no matter who was in that ship.”

Weston turned back to the matter at hand, “Helm, plot an intercept course. All available thrust.”

Daniels bent to his task, the chill that had permeated the Bridge lifting, as the Odyssey shifted to battle stations. “Aye Sir. Plotted and engaged, Sir.”

“Good. Bring all weapons online and increase power to forward sensing systems. I want to know, the instant they notice us.”

The Odyssey arced a long parabola, turning sun-ward, to intercept the looming figure that was, even then, entering the plant’s orbit. The big engines on the Odyssey firing to life, as the ship accelerated deeper into systems gravity well. The big ship was four minutes out from its target, when it became apparent that they had been spotted.

*****

“Sir! The unidentified ship!” The technician’s horrified voice snapped Tanner around.

He turned to the screen again, having looked away after their last defending ship had died, and his eyes widened, “what in the Oath, do they think they’re doing?”

The ship had arced in from its nice safe course and was now closing on an intercept course with the Drasin cruiser.

Whoever they were, they were no transport, Tanner thought with a mixture of disbelief and shock.

No transport Captain in the Colonies would be this stupid, and the merchant fleet habitually screened their people for insanity. The Admiral growled to himself as he turned to his people.

“Order them off! There’s nothing they can…,” Rael Tanner paused, grimacing as he considered something else.

That ship was as good as dead. He knew that they couldn’t fight the Drasin.

But, maybe…, just maybe, they could delay them just a little longer.

It might even, by some unimaginable miracle, he supposed, be enough. He gritted his teeth, hating with every fibre of his being for what he was about to do, but he had a world to consider, so he just did it.

“Cancel that,” he said as the technician started to access the comm channels.

“Sir?”

“You heard me.”

“But Sir, they’ll be…”

An icy pit lodged in his stomach, but the small man just nodded. “I’m aware of that.”

There was a long silence.

“Yes Sir.”

*****

“Sir! Enemy vessel turning to port. They’re adjusting course, to intercept us.”

“Stand down from passive sensors. Get an active lock on the enemy ship.”

“Active lock, aye sir.” There was a brief pause as the ships tachyon-based sensors were used to lock on the Drasin ship’s position, “Captain! They’ve launched fighters.”

Weston thumbed the intercom switch again, his voice booming over the rumble of activity on the Odyssey’s flight deck. “The enemy has launched fighter craft. All fighters prepare to launch.”

“Passive sensors are reading an outgoing transmission from the Drasin ship, radio frequency,” Roberts looked up from the tactical display, he was monitoring. There was a sharp look of concern crossed his features, a moment later. “Captain, they’ve received a response!”

Weston sat violently upright, eyes gleaming with a mixture of fear, and a sudden adrenaline surge. If they had picked up a radio transmission this soon, and replied to it… “Step up the scanning! I want to know who answered them.”

A long, tense moment passed before the answer was found. “Got them! Captain, two more enemy ships and full fighter complements closing. One was hiding behind the Gas Giant’s second moon. The other is moving in from two point zero three AU away.”

“Estimated time to intercept?”

“At present speeds, the first bandit group will intercept us in eight minutes. Two and a half minutes later, group two will join in the fray, and ten minutes after that we’ll have to deal with group three,” Roberts presented the data in a matter of fact tone that belied the grim look on his face.

Weston’s face twisted as he considered his options, in a one on one confrontation, he could afford to wait and let the enemy make the first move. It was foolish, but it allowed him and his people to do as they had to, without worrying about whether or not it could have been avoided. For a long time, it had been a proud tradition of Weston and the Archangels that they had never started a fight, but once started, they always finished it.

Apparently, however, he wasn’t going to get to have that luxury this time. A three on one battle against relatively unknown enemies was already too foolish a situation for him to compound it with an equally foolish act of chivalry. “All right, let’s make this spectacular. Lock the forward pulse torpedo launchers onto the lead ship. Fire a full barrage, then let the Archangels out of the pen.”

“Aye Sir,” the response came back instantly, and everyone bent to their tasks.

It took only moments for the calculations to be made.

“Target locked, Captain.”

“Fire.”

*****

“By the Oath,” someone swore under his breath into the shocked silence of the room.

The small man couldn’t blame him. There were three Drasin cruisers in the system now and they’d completely missed the other two.

Well at least that poor bastard out there did us one favor.
Rael Tanner thought to himself as he whispered a brief prayer for those who were about to die.

“Send a coded tight beam to the Forge. Inform them of this revelation… Tell them…,” Tanner paused, shaking his head. “Tell them that we haven’t much time left.”

“Yes Sir.”

Chapter 19

The Odyssey shuddered as the blazing white charges were expelled into space, streaming ahead of the big ship, in an ever widening cone. The instant the lethal charges were out of range, sleek Archangel fighters poured from the dual flight decks, weapons and pilots both primed and raring for action.

On board the lead ‘Angel, Stephanus took a deep breath before opening the tac-net and addressing his pilots. “All right boys and girls, our threat board is all lit up and this time around, we’re going to be heavily outnumbered and outgunned.”