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Authors: T. Jackson King

Tags: #Speculative Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Space Opera

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BOOK: StarFight 1: Battlestar
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“Focusing,” Steinmetz replied, his hands tapping the top of his control pillar. A new image of the big wasp ship now took shape to the right side of the front wallscreen, which showed the daytime surface of the planet in the lower right corner of the screen, and the enemy ship’s normal light appearance in the middle of the wallscreen.

Jacob scanned the new sensor image. Multiple ship images showed, each one representing a distinct EMF frequency. X-ray, gamma ray, ultraviolet, infrared and far infrared images took shape in the sensor display. Briefly his attention was distracted by his left side holo that showed the eight ships of the battle group all launching thermonuke-tipped missiles at the wasp ships as they crossed the sides of the battle group, even as the twelve CO
2
and four proton lasers speared into two wasp ships. Those ships showed bright infrared glows on the middle of their hulls, but they continued under power.

“It’s disappeared!” cried Osashi.

Jacob jerked his attention back to the wallscreen. The true daylight image of the approaching wasp ship was now gone. The dark space where the ship had been looked a bit blurred. And his ship’s proton laser beam was . . . it was bending!

“Proton beam fails to strike,” called O’Hara from Tactical.

“Science!” Jacob said sharply.

“The ship’s emissions in other EMF frequencies have also vanished,” the man said, his tone frustrated. Then he looked back to Jacob, surprise and shock filling his florid face. “Captain! I’m picking up gravitons and gravity waves coming from where the ship used to be!”

Sudden fear hit Jacob’s spine. A chill swept down his arms. The hairs on his neck rose up. “What does that mean? Gravity waves hit us all the time from distant stellar events,” he said, recalling a cosmology class lesson from the academy. “What is—”

“Jacob!” yelled Lori from behind him. “Move the
Lepanto
away! Put the engines on full power thrust!”

What the?
“Why move away? And where the hell is that ship?”

His ship jerked.

Jacob felt the jerk in the seat of his vacsuit as he sat in the admiral’s command seat. The slight movements of the crew at their posts showed they felt it too.

“Gravity,” he called to the woman petty officer who operated the post that managed every gravity plate on every deck of the
Lepanto
. “Why did we feel whatever that was? I thought our inertial dampers prevented us feeling any accel change.”

“They do, acting captain,” called the woman whose name was Cassandra Pilotti. “All ship gravity systems are functioning normally. This came from outside.”

“Jacob!” yelled Lori over his helmet comlink.

Deep unease filled him. “Navigation, flip us fully over so our fusion pulse thrusters face the spot where the enemy ship was. Do it now! Then hit full emergency fusion thrust!”

“Flipping,” responded Louise.

The wallscreen’s true space image changed. The partial planet image disappeared. The spot where the enemy ship had once been swung toward the bottom of the screen. Before it passed out of view, he saw three green laser beams, fired by other group ships, hit the blurred space spot. They joined the red proton beam. But all four beams bent sideways as they came close to the wasp ship’s former position. Then a strange thing happened. The red and green beams became a circle. The beams were not just being deflected. They were being captured and made to circle the spot in space where the enemy ship had been.

“Science?” he called. “What the hell is happening to those beams?”

“Gravity,” the man said, his tone amazed. “They are being gravitationally warped.”

His seat vibrated as the
Lepanto’s
three fusion pulse thrusters now fired streams of raw energy out through the exhaust funnels that, eventually, would give the ship a normal space speed of one-tenth of lightspeed. The fusion pulse thrusters were what had allowed them to move into this system within 40 or so hours, from the distant magnetosphere boundary that marked the edge of the local star’s magnetic field.

“Captain,” called Lori, her tone breathless. “It’s an event horizon. Like what forms around a black hole. Those beams are becoming what is called an accretion disk. It happens when outside matter and energy hit a black hole’s event horizon. They are forced to orbit the black hole, never to escape!”

Dismay filled him. “Navigation! Are we moving away?”

Louise shook her head. “No, acting captain. Or maybe a few meters. Something is holding us back.”

“Gravity,” said Steinmetz. “We are within the gravitational pull of that ship’s black hole weapon.”

Jacob swallowed hard. Were they to die now? Was the
Lepanto
going to become riptide shattered metal fragments that would orbit the invisible wasp ship?

“Weapons, fire every stern missile silo. Let’s see if x-ray lasers from our thermonuke warheads can pierce that field and hit the wasps inside that ship!”

“Launching eight missiles,” Diego y Silva said.

His left side holo that showed sensor imagery of where the wasp ship had been now glowed only with the ultraviolet and infrared glows of distant stars. An orange spot in the middle of the holo was new to him. A glance at the text panel at the bottom told him its identity. Orange indicated intense gravity. How could anyone produce an artificial gravity field that equaled the strength of a black hole? Gravity plate theory was something he had flunked in the academy. But clearly, the wasps had gone beyond producing the usual range of gee levels, which on the
Lepanto
could range from zero gee up to ten gees.

Eight yellow-white stars suddenly filled the true space holo that imaged the enemy ship’s position. Bright yellow globes of plasma spread out. Invisible x-rays sleeted down toward the gravity-warped spot where the green and red laser beams still circled in endless orbit. Would the intense gravity of the artificial black hole capture the x-rays? Or would they punch through the thick metal hull of the wasp ship?

“Negative entry,” Steinmetz murmured. “Our sensor array reports the eight x-ray beams bent sideways. They are becoming part of the accretion disk.”

Despair filled Jacob.

This was the unknown enemy weapon he had feared. But he had worried about an enemy with an antimatter cannon. Never in his wildest nightmares had he ever thought of being captured by a black hole. He wanted to escape. Fear filled him. He didn’t want to die.

“Jacob, you’re the captain,” called Daisy. “What do we do now?”

He shook himself. She was right. It was up to him to find a way out of certain death. But what was the answer to a gravity field that held them in an invisible lasso?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SIX

 

“Alarm!” scent cast the elder female Servant who monitored the perception imagers that tracked Soft Skin nests. “A new stinger beam hits the top of our head! It comes from the abdomen of the large Soft Skin nest. It cuts deep.”

Hunter felt irritation. “What kind of stinger is this?”

“Unknown,” the female Servant scent cast in pheromones of alarm.

His three small eyes fixed on the Servant who monitored radiations from cold space. “Servant,” he scent cast to that Swarmer alone. “Do your devices tell us a scent story about this new stinger?”

The male Servant, who was a member of Hunter’s personal cohort, tapped his control panel with a manipulator pad. “They do, Hunter One. The particles striking our hard shell exterior are one of two particles that make up the basic unit of all substances. They are denser than the sky light beams sent by the Soft Skins. That is why they bite deeper.”

“Pull Down Servant, is this new stinger harming our device shells?”

“Not yet,” the elder male scent cast to him in a mix of aggregation, releaser and primer pheromones that were as complex as the Servant’s thinking. “The Pull Down shells have not yet reached the head of our flying nest. The mineral hard shells are what is being harmed.”

He could not allow the Pull Down shell units to be damaged. “Servant for propulsion, move our head upward so the new stinger beam hits the dead tip of our nest.”

“Flying upward,” the Servant scent cast.

Hunter felt satisfaction as his nest rose up, leaving the red stinger beam to strike only the dead hard shell that caped the tip of his nest. The Pull Down shells replaced nearly all the outer hard shell plates, except those at the tip of their nest’s head and those which surrounded the rear propulsion units. And once the Pull Down device activated, no harm could—

“Device activated,” scent cast the elder male Servant. “Soft Skin flying nest now faces away from us. It attempts to escape our bite.”

The perception imagers that showed external events now all went dark. That was normal when the Pull Down device activated. None of his five eyes, nor those artificial eyes that his nest used to wing through cold dark space, now saw anything. Which also meant no weapon could penetrate to the outer shell of his nest.

“Speaker To All, what do our Support Hunter allies scent cast? Are they attacking the other Soft Skin nests?” he said to the young male Swarmer who occupied a bench to the left side of the Flight Chamber.

“Each Support Hunter reports they are attacking a single Soft Skin nest as earlier ordered,” the energetic Swarmer scent cast. “Support Hunter Seven reports the large Soft Skin flying nest is being left behind by the other Soft Skin nests. It shoots out flames but cannot escape the bite of our Pull Down device!” The youth changed his pheromones to a releaser scent. “The scent signal from our allies comes by way of another shade of reality. Do you wish to view what Support Hunter Seven now views?”

“Servant, display on our front perception imager the particle signal from Support Hunter Seven.”

Hunter felt satisfaction as he saw the largest Soft Skin ship become locked in the claws of the Pull Down device. It had turned away and pointed its propulsive end at his nest. Yellow-white flame now spat out from three locations, reflecting the primeval energies that happened when special particles joined together. He knew little of the outside radiations that filled cold dark space. He just knew that those energies moved his flying nest and gave power to his nest for normal pull down and light and warmth. While his particle disruption seeds created energy-filled plasma blasts useful for destroying a flying nest, a rock moving through space or excavating the land hole for a new Swarmer nest of millions, they were of small power when compared to the Pull Down device. The creation of it had been the surprise achievement of those Servants who studied radiations from space and distant sky lights. They had discovered sky lights whose pull down strength made them invisible. Then, two generations ago, those Servants had learned how to create the Pull Down device. It was the ultimate stinger.

“Stinger Servant, have any of our nest allies destroyed a Soft Skin nest?” he said by way of a primer pheromone mixed with a sex pheromone to remind all Swarmers of his promised reward.

“Not yet,” the young female scent cast. “They are concentrating on one of the smallest Soft Skin flying nests. It has fewer stingers with which to bite back. They express optimism.”

Such emotion was good to scent. After the loss of three Swarmer flying nests, all Swarmers needed to scent the good news of a strike pheromone. The Pull Down capture of the largest Soft Skin nest was part of that good news. The death of a Soft Skin flying nest, which would reduce the Soft Skin nest numbers to one less than those of the Swarm, was a much desired second news scent. Hunter settled down on his bench, attempting patience. Being patient was not normal to any Swarmer. Either one attacked, fled, mated or made something new from the combined efforts of one’s cohort in work with another cohort. Action, not patience, had gained the Swarm nine new nest homes around distant sky lights. Their presence at the world of Warmth, which was welcoming despite being illuminated by a weaker yellow sky light, made this the tenth success of the Swarm. That success would be complete when they destroyed all flying nests of the invading Soft Skins. Taking a deep breath through his spiracles, he told himself that soon his five eyes would perceive the breakup of the largest Soft Skin nest into thousands of pieces once it came close to the Pull Down field. That would be a welcome perception!

 

♦   ♦   ♦

 

Jacob realized they faced death. It could come at the invisible hands of the wasp ship. Or it could come by the choice of him and his crew. Their ship might explode if it did what he had in mind. But it would surely die when it closed with the invisible wasp ship and its gravity riptides tore apart every seam, every wall, every person inside the
Lepanto
.

“Power,” he called to Maggie. “Move our three fusion reactors beyond their rated output. Feed ten percent more power to the fusion pulse thrusters.” He looked to another strong woman on the Bridge. “Engines,” he called to Akira. “Increase the flow of tritium and deuterium isotopes to the three engines. Increase the containment magfields using the extra power from Maggie’s reactors. Let us see if we can achieve 12 percent lightspeed thrust.”

Sudden silence filled the room.

Below him, Daisy gave him a thumbs-up. To her right, O’Connor raised his right hand in a fist of approval.

“Increasing reactor power output,” Maggie said, her tone calm over his helmet comlink.

“Fusion isotopes flow increased,” Akira said quickly, her black hands moving over her control pillar. “I’m increasing the thruster magfield containment power. It may be enough to control the fusion reaction of the pellets. If it does, our thrust will increase and the ship’s max speed will hit . . . ” She looked at the holo in front of her. “The three fusion thrusters will hit 12.3 percent of lightspeed.”

Relief filled him. Then new fear. How long would the thrusters hold up under the increased plasma energies that were like small stars going off inside each thruster reaction chamber?

“Thruster integrity is holding,” Akira called from Engines.

He looked to the redhead. “Navigation? Are we pulling away?”

Louise gave a long sigh. “We are, slowly. We are a kilometer further away from the enemy ship. At this rate it will take a day or more to get beyond the weapon’s reach. Which I calculate is 3,917 kilometers. That was the enemy ship’s distance when it disappeared from view.”

They needed more power and more thrust.

“Power, increase reactor yield by five more percent.”

“Sir!” Maggie cried. “That will put the reactors at 15 percent beyond their maximum safe rating!”

“Yes it will. Do it.” What could he do to increase the power flow to the thrusters. “Gravity,” he called to Cassandra. “Cut power to all gravity plates not involved in the operation of the fusion reactors, fuel feed and thruster operation. Warn all decks, but cut power. That will reduce the load on the fusion reactors and increase power flow to the thrusters.”

“All decks,” the woman called over the shipwide comlink. “Null gravity coming.” She reached out and tapped her control pillar. “All gravity plates shut down. Sir.”

He looked ahead to Akira. “Engines, increase thruster output as much as you can with the increased fuel flow and power feed.”

The young woman nodded, her black curls floating out from her head as the Bridge gravity plates shut down. “Increasing thruster power. Moving up to 12.9, 13.1 . . . 14 percent of lightspeed! That is the max the thruster magfields can produce!”

The ship jerked.

“We’re free!” yelled Louise.

“Navigation, vector us to join the anvil formation ahead.”

“Changing ship’s vector track,” Louise said, sounding relieved.

“Captains Swanson, Wilcox, Zhang, Jefferson, Lorenz, Metz, Wilson and Mansour!” Jacob called over the ship’s neutrino comlink. “Follow our lead. Shift your vector track upward and north of the planetary ecliptic. The giant wasp ship has a black hole weapon that we barely escaped. None of you could escape it. We are heading out of this system, fighting as we go.” His left side holo showed the four frigates and two destroyers of his battle group moving sideways. The cruisers
Chesapeake
and
Hampton Roads
also moved sideways, allowing the
Lepanto
to take the nose of the anvil position. “All ships, maintain Alpha Anvil formation. Fire at the enemy, combining your beams! Do it in groups of four ships. And tell your Engines people to increase speed to eleven percent of lightspeed. Power can give you what you need. My people are sending you their settings for Power and Engines. We will slow down to that speed once we reach the nose of the anvil.”

“Amazing,” called Carlos from behind him. “Acting captain, my tablet has sent the coordinates for Kepler 10 to Chief Petty Officer Slaughter.”

“Thank you,” Jacob said. “Engines, reduce thrust to eleven percent of lightspeed. Gravity, restore grav plate functioning. Power, reduce reactor output to five percent above rated levels. Send your settings to each battle group ship.”

“Reducing thrust,” Akira called, relief in her voice. “Transmitting new settings.”

“Cutting power flow,” called out Maggie.

“Gravity restored,” said Cassandra.

“Acting captain,” called Louise. “This new vector is not aligned with the position of Kepler 10.”

“You are correct,” Jacob said, the fast beating of his heart slowing as the fact of their escape from certain death swept over him. “Once we are further out, we will turn as a group and follow the vector track of the
Salamis
.”

“Captain,” called Andrew Osashi from Communications. “What if the wasp ships follow us out to the magnetosphere? They may compute the star we head for.”

Jacob wondered at the sudden chattiness of the man. Was he adjusted to the fact of an ensign being acting captain and leader of a battle group? Or was he simply voicing what some on the Bridge might be wondering?

“CWO Osashi, if the enemy follows us to the magnetosphere, well, so be it,” Jacob said bluntly, hoping his answer would be acceptable to the captains of the other ships. “We will get to Kepler 10 before they do. It will take the wasps a few hours to exactly compute the vector track. Then they have to decide which star along that track we are heading for. That gives us time to set up a Smart Rocks minefield at their likely emergence spot. And to ask the Star Navy base for help.”

“Thank you, sir,” the man said as he bent over his control pillar.

Jacob looked right to the middle-aged Latino man who managed the ship’s Life Support post. What was his name? He’d just finished memorizing the names of the four frigate acting captains. His Bridge crew were just as vital. And . . . Joaquin Garcia it was. “Life Support, are things back to normal on all the decks?”

“Most decks report normal functioning,” Joaquin reported, his black crew cut hair shiny with perspiration. “The hydroponics room went into automatic drain closure at the loss of gravity. The system will restore itself within a half hour. The pond in the Forest Room is now falling as rain. Supplies Deck is sorting loose boxes that broke open upon gravity renewal.”

“Good.”

Below him, O’Connor turned in his seat and looked up at Jacob. The man’s white eyebrows lifted. His thin lips showed a slight smile. “You earned your captain’s eagles with that escape thrust decision. Got some in my cabin.”

Jacob did not smile. He just nodded, then sat back. Everything he did and said now, everything he had done during this first battle, was being broadcast to all the ships of the battle group and to all decks of the
Lepanto
. And to the destroyer
Salamis
, which was now four AU distant and headed outward. Plus the ship’s AI had recorded it as part of the official record. That was normal on any Star Navy ship. What was not normal was for a fresh ensign to take command of a Battlestar, fight it, destroy three enemy ships and then order the battle group into a tactical retreat.

BOOK: StarFight 1: Battlestar
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