"Maxon,
send a long-range message to Command. Send them a full update on our status as
fast as you can,"
"Got it," she started typing away
faster than Aaen had seen since launch.
Another
sensor alert—"More ships just
entered the area!" Jonathan sounded like he was suddenly on the verge
of a panic attack. . . Then Aaen had an
idea—
"Captain,
what if we used one of the torpedo casings to generate a false sensor
echo?"
".
. .What?"
He
turned around, "Create a
countermeasure. They're going to eventually realize we're here, whether
they detect us or not. It's only a matter
of time. One shuttle versus an entire fleet of ships?. . ." he
sensed she was picking up on his point. . .the look on her face said she was
coming to the same realization he was—"The odds are not in our favor, even for a spy shuttle. We need to have a
countermeasure ready to throw them off. Then, when they get within close enough
to the probe, rig it to detonate using one of the high-yield warheads. One of
those could potentially cripple twenty-five
to fifty ships, if it works,"
"'IF'—That's a pretty freakin' big gamble,
Aaen," Jonathan quipped.
"Compared to taking them all on, with two
high-power cannons and only two torpedoes?"
".
. .He's got a point," Maxon
interjected.
"What
if it doesn't work? That kind of an anti-matter explosion in space? A scout
ship would detect that from two parsecs away. We'd be attracting more attention
than we'd be dodging,"
"Maybe not. The torpedo detonation would
be close to a Translight core breach. It
would likely be interpreted as a ship exploding. They would divert more of
their fleet to investigate, and they wouldn't be able to immediately tell what
really happened—and it would take minutes or hours for any ships they have in
range to arrive, and then to do an investigation—"
"Okay,
enough," Maxon interjected, extending her palms.
"Do
you want me to modify a torpedo casing to be a decoy?" Jensen asked.
Another
sensor alert—
"How
many more ships?" Maxon asked.
Jonathan
had to move his finger across his screen to take count, "Fifteen more
ships. None of them are cloaked. Five are warbirds,"
"I've
got the message for Admiral Carrell ready to be sent," Mason turned to the
captain.
Maxon
nodded and said, "Send it,"
The
order was carried out.
Another
sensor alert—"We're twenty minutes from our destination,"
"Understood," Maxon acknowledged.
"We're
down to 60% flush coolant for the Translight engines, captain," Aaen
started having doubts about whether or not they would have enough. His gut told
him they were gonna need it. . . He tried not to focus on the possibilities of
what might happen in the next half-hour—
"Jonathan,
work with Jensen to modify a torpedo casing,"
They
Jensen and Jonathan started whispering and mumbling to each other as they switched
screens on their computers and then began exchanging information displayed on
their computer screens.
Aaen
scanned his screen, "Our course will take us very close to the ships and
some other obstacles. We're running out of coolant fast, captain. We might want to slow down to maybe. .Translight seven or six,"
Maxon
gasped hard. "Will we make it in time if we slow down?" Maxon asked
Jonathan.
"It'll
be cutting it close. If we slow down that much. . .it'll be at least another
ten minutes—"
"And
we're still using Translight coolant. We'll be at 50% of optimal before long, and
then if we need to use a higher Translight factor to bug outta here. . ." Aaen turned his head—"We might have
to improvise,"
". . .Whaddo you mean by 'improvise'?"
Maxon asked. Mason gave Aaen a confused look.
Aaen
looked at Maxon with a determined look, then Maxon responded, "You're kidding,"
Aaen
subtly turned his head.
"What?" Mason asked.
Aaen
kept looking at Maxon, and responded to Mason, "We may have to borrow
coolant from one of the Rotelan ships,"
Jonathan
overheard the statement, "Are-you-serious?"
Aaen
turned farther and nodded, "It's that, or we risk a Translight engine explosion,
which will cripple the shuttle,"
"How
do you know if their coolant is even compatible with our engines?" Jonathan
asked skeptically.
Maxed
extended her palm at Jonathan, "Computer,"
"Online," the AIU droned.
"Is
Rotelan Translight engine coolant
compatible with our Translight engines?"
The
question was met with a flurry of beeping sounds—"If it's possible to use
their coolant on our engines, we can use the transporters to beam some from one
of the smaller ships into our coolant tanks,"
Maxon
gestured for Aaen to stop talking. The beeping sounds stopped,
"Affirmative. Rotelan Translight engine coolant is 60% compatible with this
shuttle's Translight engines,"
"What
does '60% compatible' mean?" Maxon asked, seemingly in
general.
"It
means we can fill our Translight engine coolant takes up with their coolant, but it
won't be more than 60% effective in cooling the engines down and we'll probably
run out of it faster than using our own coolant,"
"So
why bother with it?" Jonathan asked, interjecting, "Captain, I think
it's too risky. If they detect the transport when it's in progress, we're screwed. They can trace the
transporter beam,"
"We're
a spy shuttle how do we know the
transporter signal isn't encrypted
somehow?"
Maxon
looked at Jensen. He shrugged his shoulders and turned his head as though to
express uncertainty.
Maxon
faced forward and brushed her fingers through her hair, then took a deep
breath, "We're short on time, and that increases the risk of this mission
more than what it already is. I don't think we can take that much risk right
now. We'll keep going,"
—Shoot, Aaen faced forward and took a
deep breath.
"There's
another warbird approaching fast at our two o'clock. . . Looks like it and
about ten others are docked inside of some kind of shipyard. I'm reading
high-yield plasma torpedoes and pulse beam arrays being installed,"
Jonathan announced. "Antimatter decoy probe is almost finished,
captain,"
"Very
good," Maxon acknowledged. "Keep me posted,"
Jonathan
and Jensen continued working on the decoy probe.
Mason
had a thought, "Captain, if they're
loading weapons onto those ships, this might be an opportunity to break
into their computer network to find out how to access that satellite perimeter
Command was talking about, and shut them down. We might be able to access the
Rotelan internal core network to get the access codes to shut down the
satellite network,"
"They
might detect us if we try to get in," Maxon said darkly.
"It
might work," Aaen added.
"We
tried that when we were getting
through their border. They nearly
detected us,"
"That
was their border. This is a shipyard. We
might have better luck. We're hundreds of lightyears inside their space. The
security in the shipyard might be less complicated than on their border,"
"What makes you think so?" Jensen
asked, looking doubtful, continuing to work on the decoy probe with Jonathan.
"Look
at it from their perspective: do you really think you would need to have more
security on a shipyard this deep into
their space, especially with all those high-intensity scan satellites and
battleships on their border, ready to decloak and destroy at-will?" If they think they have the upper-hand, they
would probably be more relaxed about that.
Jonathan
gasped. "It might be possible,
captain. But we only have another twenty seconds before we pass them, at this
speed,"
"I
can still slow us down and alter course in time!" Aaen declared.
"And if it doesn't work?" Maxon
said.
Aaen
turned around, hovering his right hand over the command to slow to full
sublight—
Another
alarm sounded—"New message from
Command," Mason announced. She was already quickly working to decode
the message.
Maxon
looked at Jonathan. He only lowered his eyebrows and expressed some skepticism
of the idea, then nodded.
Maxon
turned around, "No. Just keep going,"
Aaen
gasped as he went through the engine controls, stopping at the coolant levels.
Coolant levels were at 52% and
falling. He took another deep breath
and looked at the viewscreen—so far, so good.
Maxon
and Jonathan made eye contact again, "the probe'll be finished in about
ten minutes," Jonathan said.
"We
might be able to use the other casing as an actual torpedo,"
"I
don't intend to take this ship into battle, Commander,"
"I
don't think it's a good idea, either. But if something goes wrong in the next
fifteen minutes, I think we should be prepared,"
"We'll
just have to be careful, won't we?"
"Aye,"
But how careful are they being?
*****
Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."
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