Vigilante (38 page)

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Authors: Laura E. Reeve

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BOOK: Vigilante
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“Tahir should have known this when he looked at the buoy’s status,”
Emery said.
“We needed that controller, but Emery killed him.”
“How do you know that I didn’t stop him from opening the buoy?”
“Because you’re so trigger-happy, we won’t know anything now,” Tahir
snapped.
“Weren’t your fancy mines supposed to take care of any incoming
ships?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Abram’s words doused the squabble as effectively as
a foot grinding out a bug.
She watched them with her peripheral vision, amazed that Abram could
engender so much fear in his son and nephew, even when he was a hundred million kilometers
away.
“Your window for detonation has started,” Abram said. “Your heroism will
be remembered forever, your lives given for our freedom.”
What a pompous ass! Glancing at the FTL swathe that Julian opened,
Ariane first checked that
Aether’s Touch
was off the display, then
noticed the
Pilgrimage III
was
moving
.
On the edge of the diagram, the ship was snuggling behind Sophia I so that it was entirely
eclipsed, just as Laomedon currently eclipsed Priamos and Beta Priamos, just as Sophia II was
eclipsing the remote science station—
Abram had planned for temporary protection of the system inhabitants.
Sophia I and II, as well as Laomedon, had magnetospheres that could protect against intense
solar radiation. Of course, this would work only if the sun didn’t explode. It also meant these
idiots were on a critical timetable.
“The detonation must occur within thirty minutes. I have to deal with a
minor outbreak of vigilantism on Beta Priamos, so I’ll be out of touch for a while. I pray for
your success, my sons.” Abram signed off after giving a cavalier salute.
She shut her eyes, outraged. Abram’s unemotional selfishness was an
insult to everyone who would die: the crews on any ships transitioning between real and
N-space, the crew of the
Bright Crescent
, and yes, even these young
men Abram tenderly called his sons. How many more would die as the coronal mass ejections and
flares dragged on and the entire system had to fend for itself, unable to import food, drugs,
or medical personnel and equipment?
That’s only if we’re lucky. If not, we
all go out in a blazing nova.
 
Even accounting for the time-saving efforts of the Minoans, it was
tricky business clearing the channel before the
Percival
dropped.
The rail guns on the
Bright Crescent
didn’t have full coverage, so
Oleander had Captain Janda rotate the ship within the tight confines of the safety route the
Minoans had established.
Lieutenant Colonel Aquino authorized symmetrical rail firing, so Janda
had an easier job keeping the ship in position. Momentum couldn’t disappear and when a rail gun
fired, the momentum from accelerating its ammunition transferred to the ship’s structure. They
tried to disperse the force about the structure through the programmable mounting shocks, but
the momentum always affected ship position.
“Rotated off standard lateral axis by thirty degrees.” Janda’s voice
came quietly, but clearly, from Oleander’s ear bug.
“Firing rails one and four,” Oleander said, using her implanted mike and
the weapons channel so that she would be heard in the pilot and navigator ear bugs, as well as
in the magazine-loading compartments.
Symmetrical firing of multiple rail guns brutally punished the ship’s
framework, but it saved them precious time. The isolationists had screwed up; somebody chose a
neat mathematical dispersal of the mines, which allowed her to move mines with two slugs at
once and drive them toward their brethren, causing fratricide. So far, their procedure was
working, with only a few kilometers to go.
She tapped the fire command and felt the slight shudder. On the data
diagram piped to her console, the targeted mines jerked into movement. Theoretically, the slug
caliber they were using shouldn’t trigger the mine proximity fuses, but again, that was
theoretical
. These were crude mines with old-fashioned chemical
propellants. One began moving outward into the minefield, but the other exploded as the slug
hit and caused several nearby mines to blow up simultaneously.
The alarm at the damage assessment console shrilled, making her wince.
Albert turned it off almost immediately, calling out in a calm voice that briefly lost its
drawl, “Smart armor reduced damage by sixty percent, but we’ve got buckling, possible
decompression, at starboard dorsal section sigma.”
That was the bulkhead of the troop compartment. Oleander paused and
looked up at the status board.
“Decompression confirmed. Evacuation in progress. Damage assessment team
arriving. We’ve got two casualties being transported to medical.” The results of her shots, the
shots intended to protect their ship, were coming out slowly in fragmented updates from
multiple consoles.
“Lieutenant Oleander? We’re in position for two more shots,” Captain
Janda’s voice said quietly from her ear bug.
“Yes, sir.” She looked forward to the pilot’s seat, but Janda didn’t
turn around. The shaved skin on the back of his head was glistening and there were beads of
sweat running down to the base of his neck. She was glad she wasn’t the only one drenched in
sweat. She adjusted the rail gun angles with trembling fingers.
“Firing rails two and five.”
“Medical updated the personnel roster. We’ve got one commando fatality
and one pulled off duty,” Chief Serafin said crisply.
“We’ve moved out-channel another fifty meters, Lieutenant. Fire at
will,” Janda said.
“Firing rails one and four.” She could no longer afford the time to
check her results.
“The Minoans gave us data to fill in our holes. We can’t find the
Pilgrimage Three
because it’s nearly hidden by Sophia One. Here’s
our one-eighty of the solar system using light-speed data.” Captain Stavros was briefing the
command chairs. “The Minoans also recorded two ships—”
“Firing rails two and five.”
“Far in-system by now. It looks like the
Candor
Chasma
, that’s the State Prince’s retrofitted Gladiator, pursued or accompanied by a
small prospecting ship registered as
Aether’s Touch
. Their
trajectory—” Stavros was rapid-firing her words.
“We’re another fifty meters out-channel, Lieutenant, rotated positive
thirty off lateral axis,” Janda said.
“Firing rails one and four.”
Another alarm shrilled, quickly silenced. She ground her teeth together
and tried to concentrate on her next targets.
“Explosion near port ventral section lambda. Smart armor reports no
structural damage,” Albert said from damage assessment.
“Firing rails two and five.” Even her fingertips were sweaty, sliding on
the surface of the console.
“Can we catch them?” Aquino asked.
“At the speeds the Minoans projected, it’d take us almost five hours. If
the
Percival
drops in on schedule, it could catch them in three,”
replied Serafin.
“Moved another fifty meters, Lieutenant,” Janda said, tiny and clear,
from her ear bug.
“Firing rails one and four.”
“What about missiles?” Edones asked.
“That’s a civilian ship,” Aquino said.
“Firing rails two and five.”
“Don’t care. The
Candor Chasma
has to be
taken out.” Edones’s tone was unyielding.

Percival
’s dropping into real-space, sir,”
Chief Serafin said.
“This is the last set, Lieutenant. I’ve got us lined up, so fire at
will,” Janda said.
“Firing rails one and four.” Another fine adjustment to aim the slugs
correctly; her fingers were still trembling. “Firing rails two and five.”
“We’re through.Good work,Oleander!”Stavros checked her light-speed data
again. “Tell the
Percival
they’ve got a clear path. I see nothing
their smart armor can’t handle.”
She leaned back in relief, although she couldn’t stop thinking about the
commando fatality. Perhaps she shouldn’t have aimed at the center of mass of the mines,
perhaps—
“Lieutenant Oleander, how many Assassinator missiles are we carrying?”
Colonel Edones’s voice broke through her thoughts.
“Sixteen, sir.” She’d memorized the armament loads because the two crews
had deliberated this to death. Edones and Hauser had approved the loads, although she didn’t
expect them to remember the details.
Lieutenant Colonel Aquino looked expectantly at Colonel Edones. An O-6,
or full bird, had to approve the use of that expensive and controversial missile. On this ship,
that meant the mission commander.
“Load all sixteen, Lieutenant, and program them for the
Candor Chasma
.” Edones’s voice was heavy and didn’t have its customary
crispness. “Captain Janda, take us a hundred kilometers off the arrival channel, any direction.
Comm, relay to
Percival
that we’ll be firing missiles as soon as
we’ve plotted target positions. Stavros, get Tactical some starting trajectories.”
The chorus of “Yes, sir” was subdued. Oleander relayed the order to the
magazine crews, since the Assassinators weren’t preloaded into missile tubes.
The Assassinator missile, by itself, got better net-think ratings than
most pornographic v-plays. Half of net-think considered the Assassinator to be the surgically
safest, albeit most expensive, weapon ever developed. It could withstand extreme gee and boost
to point-nine light speed in minutes, not hours, before having to decelerate. The name resulted
from missile programming: When an Assassinator decelerated to its final recon point, it would
query for, search out, and destroy a specific preprogrammed ship profile. The ship had to be
within ten thousand kilometers. The lauded safety of the missile involved a timer that couldn’t
go past five UT minutes. If the missile couldn’t find the correct profile within that time, it
defaulted to safe and disabled its warhead.
Detractors of the Assassinator, usually opponents of military spending
and members of fiscally conservative political parties, complained that the missile was
expensive and ineffective. Military ships had EM countermeasures and physical chaff for
confusing and defeating missiles with active targeting or profile assessment.
Oleander sighed as she watched tube status, where the missiles showed
themselves powering up and coming online. Firing an Assassinator at a civilian ship violated
plenty of treaties and regulations. It could sink military careers, but in this case, it was
Colonel Edones making the decision and she was only following orders.
The crew at Ura-Guinn only followed orders, and
Terrans still call them war criminals
. She watched sixteen missile status lights glow
ready with a bright, happy green color. The
Candor Chasma
was a
prior-military vessel and its profile was in the Assassinator database. It was the only ship in
this system qualified to interface with the TD package and it was in position to trigger the
design flaw that would arm the warhead. If the
Candor Chasma
carried the warhead, it could arm the warhead in less than twenty minutes and neither the
Bright Crescent
nor the
Percival
could
prevent its detonation. Colonel Edones was taking the single practical action that might, just
might
, stop another Ura-Guinn from happening.
Sixteen green lights. Her mind cleared. “All missiles have accepted the
profile and ID. They’re ready for target positions,” she said.
“Without FTL data, sir, we’re guessing on their trajectory,” Stavros
said.
“Understood. Tactical?” Once Edones had approved the use of the
Assassinator missiles, Aquino fully backed his decision. No one mentioned that if the ship’s
crew could track the incoming missiles on FTL and knew their limitations, they could maneuver
out of range.
“I’ve got sixteen points plotted that provide coverage for where we
think they’re going.” Serafin showed the circles, ten thousand kilometers in diameter. “They’d
have to go wonky to avoid these missiles. Even so, they might get there too late.”
No one questioned the chief’s use of “wonky” as everyone looked at her
plot, more concerned by the phrase “too late.” There was silence as everyone digested the
possibilities of surviving a TD wave.
“Weapons, download final recon points to the missiles and fire when
ready. Comm, update the
Percival
with the targets—they should leave
as soon as possible.” Aquino broke up the moment of preoccupation.
“Downloading final recon coordinates,” Oleander said. It took a moment
for the missiles to update their targeting processors and she heard Lieutenant Kozel say that
the
Percival
was away, but she concentrated on entering her
authorization codes.

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