“Repairs on the translight engines are almost finished. The nanites are working on repair the finer damage to the ship—“ she gasped, turning her head, glancing at the technical readings on her computer, “but I seriously doubt the translight nacelles will be able to keep us at translight nine again for more than five minutes before the nacelles will buckle and we’ll have to reduce speed—like. . .really slow down.”
“By how much?” Maxon asked.
“. . .Translight two. We have to get back to a star base for more in-depth repairs than what can be done out here.”
“Well, we know that we can’t stay here forever before they find us, one way or another. . .” Aaen added.
“Sensor readings are real sketchy, with all of the magnetic interference—but there are absolutely large, metallic sensor echoes within a few kilometers from our position. They’re coming.”
Maxon turned to Aaen and gave him a look that spooked him for a moment. “Do you think you can get us out of here alive?”
“I’ll have to push this ship to her physical limits. . .” his tone of voice shifted slightly, “and it’s probably going to compromise more systems, but. . .yeah, I think I can do it, even without the stealth field,” he looked at Mason, “but that would be really helpful.”
“I might be able to get it partially operational. Like I said, this shuttle’s gonna need a major overhaul once we get back if Galileo’s going to be able to stay in commission.”
“How close are repairs to being finished?”
Mason looked at the technical readings . . . “A few more minutes, at least,”
A sensor alert sounded. All attention immediately focused on Jonathan—
“Oh, crap,”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m detecting high-intensity energy bursts directed at the asteroids . . . Looks like their sensors can’t penetrate the magnetic interference. They’re blowing the asteroids up to find us.”
“How long?” Maxon asked.
Jensen leaned back and looked at Jonathan’s sensor readings. He watched as small jagged dots exploded on the sensor array. The look on his face was concerning to the rest of the crew as he sat upright.
“How-long?” Maxon asked again.
“. . .If their rate of progress remains constant from this point, we’ve got less than five minutes before we have to make a run for it.”
Time was moving as fast as one had ever experienced, from the individual’s perception, and it was getting faster for the entire crew. The force of the explosions subtly rattled the deck. They each subconsciously processed what was happening outside of the cavern where they were taking refuge for the time-being and came to the same conclusion, which quickly screamed into their consciousness—
“Get ready to engage sublight engines. Full-power. On my mark: punch up our speed to translight-factor-nine-point-nine-nine.”
Aaen looked at Maxon for a second, and then back at his screen. “Sublight engines standing by.”
“Do we have a clear exit out of here, Jonathan?” Maxon asked.
“Not really. It would be real helpful if we have weapons to clear the way a little more.”
“Yeah. Can you get the cannons online, at least?”
Mason’s facial expression spoke volumes—lots of doubts about Jensen’s recent proposition.
“I might be able to get your computer back online.”
“Start working on that as soon as translight engines are fixed,” Maxon ordered.
“Aye,”
—The floor shuddering was getting intermittently stronger. Aaen looked up at the black of the cavern in the viewscreen, and kept alternating between that and his computer screen. Based on what little light was coming in from a nearby star, he guessed getting everyone out of this rock alive was going to be like—
—the shuddering got louder. . .and louder, even stronger this time—
“Standby to bring the translight core online and then switch to main power,” Aaen advised Mason.
Aaen’s response was a direct look and a nod.
—Here-goes-nothin’! Aaen thought.
—Another shudder.
“They’re getting closer! Their firing pattern will put where we’re hiding in the center of a bulls-eye in less than a minute!” Jonathan guessed. The crew silently agreed with that guess and sat upright, mentally tuning-in to what they all almost identically anticipated was go come—
Another shudder, this one made the crew feel like they needed to push against the walls or hold onto their respective station for stability—it was now, or never—
“NOW!”
The translight core powered up more quickly than before, and then main power came back online, with the bridge lights back to full illumination almost instantly. Aaen activated the engines, and within a second, the engines groaned as though from a sudden (and certainly not recommended) acceleration, the shuttle was up, coming around and then shooting toward a long angled rocky tube with plenty of jagged obstacles for as far as he could see.
“Weapons’ detonation hard aft! We need to move it, Commander!”
“We are! Mason, give me more power in the sublight engines!”
“That’s all we’ve got! The sublight core took some damage, too! The nanites can’t repair it all! I’m working on getting the tactical computer back online!”
Multiple hard swerves, multiple barrel rolls at incredibly steep and awkward angles, multiple sharp turns and metallic sparks against the dense rocky walls, and the stars were again visible—the thundering, cascading explosions from aft were felt in the deck plating. Aaen reasoned there might as well have been thousands of high-yield antimatter shots at this asteroid just now—!
“Punching the engines up to destructive sublight!” the engines answered immediately.
“Are you freakin’ crazy!” Jensen and Jonathan yelled at the same time.
“WE’RE GETTING OUTTA HERE! HOLD ON!”
The rumble of every surface inside the shuttle doubled in less than a second.
C’MON!-C’MON! Aaen yelled in his thoughts. The rest of the crew were doing the same since the rumbling was so intense it rapidly became turbulent, making staying upright and stable in the cabin almost impossible.
“Stealth field?” Aaen asked.
“It’s at twenty-five-percent!” Mason answered.
They were almost to the opening as a raging fire began to engulf the hull—
“FIVE MORE SECONDS!” Jonathan shouted at the top of his lungs to barely overcome the death-bringing raging wave of five fire behind them—
And then there were only stars—“CLEAR!” Jonathan boldly declared. More bright-green weapon fire from behind nearly blocked their path. Aaen was barely able to use the thrusters to dodge what was still coming.
“Coming hard-about!”
Maxon leaned forward sharply, and shouted: “TRANSLIGHT ENGINES, NOW!”
“TRANSLIGHT NINE-POINT-NINE-NINE! AYE!”
The stars were violent streaks of brilliantly sharp light so fast the deck vibrations became violent from the work by the translight nacelles. The crew felt like they were being thrown back into their seats so abruptly most of the crew nearly suffered whiplash. The thundering mechanical roar was almost deafening, even though the sound insulation between the bridge and the shuttle’s engine components.
The translight engine heat was climbing rapidly. The main computer was droning a flood of alarms about the hull stress and the stability of the translight field. If the translight field collapsed, the shuttle would be torn apart, or the translight core would implode and the shuttle would look like a small supernova. “Warning: Translight engines overheating. Translight core will implode in three-minutes.”
The crew struggled to stay in their seats with all of the turbulence.
“Can you buy us any more time with translight drive?” Maxon asked Mason.
Mason snapped, “Negative! There’s nothing I can do to fix the engines!”
“The Rotelan fleet is catching up—slowly! We’re almost back in their weapons range! We’re also coming up on their border! FAST!”
Another shudder.
“Are they locking weapons?” Maxon asked Jonathan.
Jonathan turned his head, “They’re firing line-of-sight.”
“If we get past their border, get into the neutral zone, they can’t pursue us!”
“I wouldn’t bank on that, Commander.” Maxon quipped.
“How long until we reach the neutral zone border?” Jensen directly asked Jonathan.
It was already visible on his screen. He quickly read over the sensor readings and then snapped. “We’re nearly there!”
Keeping the shuttle on course wasn’t getting any easier, Aaen noted, and started doubting whether or not getting across the neutral zone without getting shot down was any longer a realistic prospect—
A sensor alert sounded. “We’ve entered the neutral zone! The border’s behind us and they’re slowing down!”
A flood of sensor beams hummed through the bridge.
“Their targeting sensors can’t get a solid fix on our hull, so they’re triangulating their sensor readings to get a better weapons lock!”
Another series of loud alarms sounded almost at the same time.
“They’re firing again!” Jonathan announced, and then looked at this screen wide-eyed, “They just shot off like. . .” his eyes traced his screen, “six class-sixteen high-yield shock torpedoes!”
“Are they tracking us?”
“. . .Yes!”
Maxon looked at Aaen. “Commander?” she asked directly.
The translight coolant levels were dropping faster than Aaen had ever seen on any known to be possible on any space craft, even in training simulations—and the heat level was rising proportionately. He knew immediately, subconsciously, that there was no way to keep up this speed.
“Send a message to Command. Tell them what’s happening!” Maxon ordered.
Mason acknowledged the order and was quick to carry it out. The message was sent seconds later.
The shuttle’s heading was bordering on impossible to maintain.
“I’m detecting multiple large metallic objects moving about a hundred light years directly ahead—it’s the fleet! They’re moving into position on our side of the border!” Jonathan declared.
“One of the shock torpedoes just detonated! Five left, and they’re gaining on us, Captain!”
“Command’s already responded to our long-range message! The Voyager’s leading the fleet to a defensive position along our flight path. The rest of the fleet is going to do a ‘patrol sweep’ of the border while we dock with Voyager.”
“We’re coming up on our side of the border! An asteroid just took out one of the torpedoes! The shock wave took out another torpedo! Three left!”
The main computer droned more alerts about the translight engine head climbing to dangerous levels—the shuttle was two minutes from a translight core breach.
“Coolant’s down to twenty percent! THIS IS IT!”
The mechanical roar was only growing more intense as the translight engines’ head gauge nearly resembled a thermometer whose contents were almost at its peak.
“We’re almost there!” Jonathan declared.
The third warhead detonated. The blast rocked the hull almost off course. Aaen snapped and tactfully fired a few thrusters in a frantic attempt to keep their heading at least generally correct, but the hull’s shaking nearly blurred the stars in the main viewscreen beyond recognition for manual navigation. Aaen had done all he could, and he knew it.
“TWO MORE LEFT! We’re NEARLY at the border!”
“We’re out of coolant!”
The main computer droned another alert, warning of a translight core breach in thirty seconds. Main power was not balanced, and Mason’s frantic behavior proved the power levels were erratic, and virtually uncontrollable. The translight engines were screaming, and the stars had gone from blinking streaks of light to bright straight blurs forming the shape of a tunnel with a gleaming white center. The anomalies of the cosmos along the shuttle’s flight path were virtually indistinguishable.
Another massive explosion, this one at seven o’clock, “ONE MORE!”
The main computer droned a final warning about the translight core imploding. A countdown had started, “Twenty. . .nineteen. . .eighteen. . . ,”
Aaen hadn’t perspired from his face this much in years—
“THE LAST TORPEDO IS GETTING CLOSER!—FIVE-HUNDRED-METERS AND CLOSING!“
Maxon and Aaen guessed this torpedo had the longest timer, and only good timing had enabled it to keep up with the shuttle for this long. If it hit the shuttle, the explosion of the warhead combined with the translight core implosion could be seen for light years.
“WE CROSS OUR BORDER IN TEN SECONDS!”
Aaen turned his head as though to express doubt, “WE’RE NOT GONNA OUT-RUN IT, CAPTAIN!”
Another series of sensor scans filled the bridge, these sounded more broad and precise.
“THIS-IS-IT!” Aaen declared.
“WAIT!” Jonathan interjected.
Maxon turned around in her chair.
“I’M DETECTING THE VOYAGER at twelve o’clock! THEY’RE ARMING TORPEDOES!” Jonathan announced, as the crew felt a sudden sense of the possibility of hope. Grins abounded in anticipation of what they thought the Voyager’s captain was thinking to do. “THEY’RE TARGETING THE LAST WARHEAD!”
Maxon looked at Aaen, “Prepare to power down translight engines! FULL STOP!”
Aaen acknowledged the order, “STANDING BY TO POWER TRANSLIGHT ENGINES DOWN!”
“THEY HAVE WEAPON LOCK!. . . TORPEDOES AWAY and INCOMING FROM ONE O’ CLOCK!”
The main computer continued droning the countdown,“. . .Fifteen. . .Fourteen. . .Thirteen. . .Twelve. . .Eleven. . . ,”
“EVASIVE MANEOVERS!” Maxon commanded.
Aaen snapped and adjusted the thruster controls, “HARD TO PORT!” The thrusters were barely responding to push the hull up on a rolling maneuver—
“Five—four—three—”
“APPROACHING OUR NEUTRAL ZONE BORDER!” Jonathan declared.
A perfect line of red dots shot past the hull. In nearly an instant, a blinding fiery white and green explosion lit up the main viewscreen—
The translight engine heat was at its peak.
“THE WARHEAD’S DESTROYED—WE’RE BACK IN OUR SPACE! SHUT THE TRANSLIGHT ENGINES DOWN!”
“HURRY!” came from the rest of the crew.
Aaen snapped, the translight engines’ roar gradually became a loud, dull grumble. . . Translight seven. .six. . .three. . . .one. Aaen nodded and looked up in relief as the stars became still. The shuttle was drifting forward from inertia. The crew eyed multiple starships of familiar design and engine coloration moving about casually, but attentively, staying in relative formation.
“Voyager signals clearance to dock.” Mason announced, this time more calmly. Maxon, Jonathan, and Aaen reasoned almost at the same time that Voyager’s captain undoubtedly ordered the rest of this fleet to stand down. They were all likely on yellow alert, as a precaution, but most of their weapon systems had likely been powered down, and agreeably so.
“Alert condition green,” Maxon ordered. The main computer chimed acknowledgement as the overhead lights returned to their default white, and all of the alarms and alerts finally ceased. The floor gradually stopped rumbling.
Aaen brought the shuttle around on low sublight over the starboard nacelle and then relied mostly on the thrusters as he easily rested the hull easily on the dark, isolated shuttle bay’s floor. The docking clamps and mooring rings engaged without complication.
The door for this bay closed and then sealed behind them.
The crew off-loaded, proceeded to the briefing room where they checked in with the ship’s first officer, a six-foot-nothing, 200 pound male with dark hair and a red and black uniform and three gold rank insignia on his collar was to debrief them: the ‘prize’ was taken off the shuttle and secured for transport back to Command. The Voyager’s next orders were to take the crew back to Earth. The rest of the fleet would remain for a few days to keep an eye on the border as a precaution against intrusion, but would eventually be ordered elsewhere for different assignments as soon as Command was convinced that the Rotelans weren’t going to try to do something that would excite fleet-scale conflict. Command was doubtful that that would happen but didn’t want to take any unnecessary chances.
The crew was quickly dismissed to their individually-assigned quarters to get cleaned up after a long and trying day and for some respite while Voyager took them back to Earth. Voyager was already changing course and then a command from the helm increased the ship’s speed to translight six.
Mason drafted a damage report that was minutes later sent to the Voyager’s first officer, a report that would be sent to Admiral Carrell.
Jonathan drafted a report about the mission that would be sent to Maxon for additional comment before being forwarded to the same destination.
Mason drafted a damage report that was minutes later sent to the Voyager’s first officer, a report that would be sent to Admiral Carrell.
Jonathan drafted a report about the mission that would be sent to Maxon for additional comment before being forwarded to the same destination.
Aaen got dressed for sleep, replicated some dinner—a hearty chicken sandwich—sat down to the table and started eating. He paused to look out of his quarters’ view window, eyeing the steady intermittent stream of white stars passing by and couldn’t help but wonder what assignment he was going to get next. . .his gut told him he was going to like it. He finished his dinner, then ordered a second sandwich and finished that one almost as quickly, and then he ordered the replicator to recycle his plate which vanished in a swirl of light. He was tired. He went to bed. He couldn’t wait for his next assignment.
*****
Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."
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