Crimson Worlds Collection II Read online

  The air on the flag bridge was thick with the smell of burnt electronics. The port side wall had been blown apart, the result of a secondary explosion in another compartment. Chunks of debris sprayed outward like shrapnel, showering the admiral and his staff.

  Max Harmon winced as a small piece of metal lodged in his arm, but he gritted his teeth and ignored it. It was time to send in Task Group A. “Admiral, should I give Group A the…” He turned and stared in horror. Terrance Compton was slumped over in his chair, held in place by the still-connected harness. His shredded survival suit was covered in blood.

  “Medibot!” Harmon’s voice was shrill with tension. The flag bridge had two medical robots, but both had been destroyed in the blast. He turned to his com, but internal communications were also out. Fuck, he thought. He wanted look away, but he forced himself to stay fixed on the admiral. He couldn’t tell if Compton was alive or dead, but he knew there was no hope unless someone did something.

  He unstrapped himself from his harness. The ship was still gyrating wildly. He planted his feet on the deck, activating the magnets in his boots. He grabbed two magnetic handholds and began walking on all fours across the compartment. I’m coming, sir, he thought, hoping against hope it wouldn’t be too late.

  Elizabeth Arlington sat rigidly in her command chair, held firmly in place by her safety harness. Her ship was in trouble. The second warhead had gotten close…far too close. She wondered how the rest of the fleet had fared, but she quickly put that thought out of her head. She had to save Bunker Hill; that was all that mattered to her now.

  She panned her head around, surveying the damage on the bridge. It was bad, but it could have been worse...it was worse in other areas of the ship. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and she felt afraid, overwhelmed. She wasn’t sure what to do. Bunker Hill was on backup power with only limited emergency communications. And the massive burst of radiation had fried most of the electrical systems, which vastly complicated damage control efforts.

  Finally, she took a deep breath and willed herself to calm down. Her crew, her ship…they needed her now. She could feel the sweat running down her neck, her skin sliding against the cold, slick interior of her survival suit. Her chest was tight and her stomach clenched, but when she turned her head and started speaking she was focused like a laser.

  “Commander Jackson, we need internal communications restored now.” She was speaking into a portable com unit. Her voice was calm, commanding. Everyone on the bridge felt better hearing her fire out orders.

  “We’re working on it, captain.” Unlike Arlington, Bunker Hill’s chief engineer sounded stressed, his voice tinny and strained through the emergency communicator. He needed to be in ten places at once right now. “We should have limited communications any minute.”

  “I need a report on the reactors too.” Arlington was looking down at her workstation. Most of her instruments were out, and she had no idea if the reactors were seriously damaged. “We need power.”

  “Working on that too, captain.” There was a pause, and Arlington could hear Jackson retching. Everyone on Bunker Hill had gotten a heavy dose of radiation, probably enough to kill them all without treatment. Arlington already had ordered the medibots to give injections to counteract the worst effects until the medical staff could properly treat everyone. But a lot of the bots were down, and it was taking a long time to get to everyone. “Sorry, captain. About the react…”

  Arlington interrupted. “Commander, have you had your anti-rad shot yet?”

  “No, captain.” His voice was strained, hoarse. She could hear how weak he was. “I haven’t had time.”

  “Commander, I want you to get your injection immediately.” Arlington snapped out the order crisply. She needed Jackson as close to fully-functional as possible. “Brett, right now you are the most important person on this ship. I need you at your best…go get that shot. Now. That’s an order.”

  “Yes, captain.”

  “Get back to me with that reactor report as soon as you can. Arlington out.” She turned, looking toward the nav station. “Commander Krimm, we need to stop this rolling. Plot a solution to divert emergency power to the positioning thrusters.”

  “Yes captain.” Krimm was tall, substantially over two meters. He didn’t fit all that well in his chair under normal circumstances, and strapped in as he was he looked almost comical. He had a writing board and a stylus in his hand. “Working on it already, captain. Without the computer I need to do it by hand.”

  “As quickly as you can, navigator.” She wondered if she could even do the calculations herself anymore. It was hard not to become dependent on the AIs, and skills atrophied when you didn’t use them. But with the nav computer out, there was no alternative. She remembered the basics – she’d even manually plotted a few small vessels at the Academy, but Bunker Hill was no interplanetary shuttle. Second Fleet’s flagship had forty positioning thrusters, and plotting the combination of burns to stabilize the ship was no small feat.

  “Captain Arlington?”

  Her head snapped around…pointlessly. It was Jackson’s voice, coming from the main comlink. “Yes, Engineer, I’m reading you.”

  “Shipwide communications restored, captain. We also managed to get limited ship-to-ship…for the flag bridge.”

  “Good job, commander.” She allowed herself a tiny smile. “Did you get that injection yet?”

  “Getting it now, captain.” She could tell how much pain he was in from his voice. “I just wanted to get you the com back first.”

  “Now, engineer.” I have good people on this ship, she thought, but sometimes they were too willing to put themselves last. And right now Bunker Hill needed her chief engineer, perhaps even more than her captain. “No more excuses. And don’t forget my reactor report. After your injection.”

  “Yes, captain.”

  “Arlington out.” She turned toward Krimm. Commander, how are you doing on that manual plot? We need to get the ship…”

  “Captain!” It was Lieutenant Blandon, the communications officer. “I have Commander Harmon from the flag bridge.”

  Arlington snapped her head around. The second she saw Blandon’s face she knew.

  “He reports Admiral Compton is critically wounded, captain.” Arlington could feel the blood drain from her face as she listened to Blandon’s stricken voice. “They’re not sure he’ll survive.”

  Squadron Captain Davis Jenkins reclined back, his command chair heavily retracted, in position to deploy the acceleration couch. He had been waiting for the word from Admiral Compton to begin his attack run. It was T+11 minutes now, and he was getting worried. He’d tried to reach Bunker Hill twice, but it looked like her com was out. He was about to give the order himself and lead Task Group A in on his own initiative.

  “I have a communication from Commander Harmon, sir.” Ensign Lambert, the communications officer, his voice shrill with excitement. “We are to commence operation X-Ray immediately.”

  Jenkins frowned. He’d expected Compton to give the order himself. Well, he thought, the admiral has a lot on his plate right now. “Very well, ensign. Send the acknowledgement...and order the squadron to execute in three zero seconds from my mark.” He looked over at the communications officer as he spoke.

  Jenkins was nervous, even more so than he’d normally be in combat. He was a perfectionist who believed in doing something over and over again until it was flawless. But here he was, ready to lead ten suicide boats on a completely different kind of mission. He had no idea what to expect…no one had ever done what his people were about to do.

  It was probably safer than a normal attack…they wouldn’t be getting nearly as close to the enemy as they would on a conventional torpedo run. But the newness of it all had him running his mind over the mission plan again and again. They needed it to go well…the fleet’s entire escape plan depended on it.

  Jenkins took a deep breath. “Ensign Lambert, put me on group-wide com.” It was tim
e.

  “Yes, sir.” There was a brief delay as Lambert set up the connection. “You are on the line, sir. All ship captains standing by.”

  “Task Group A will commence Operation X-Ray immediately.” Jenkins spoke clearly and confidently. It was time to go into action, time to drive away his doubts. “Key off Bearclaw in group order. Thirty second intervals.” He paused, then added, “I’m expecting every one of you to land these things in place. Good luck to you all, and I’ll see you on the other side of the warp gate.”

  “Lieutenant Warne, execute Operation X-Ray.” Jenkins leaned back in his chair. Bearclaw would be thrusting, though not enough to require the acceleration couches to deploy. Not yet, at least.

  Jenkins could hear the familiar sound of the engines. In truth, it was more a tactile sensation than a sound…a gentle but perceptible vibration you could feel on every surface. The pressure was noticeable too, but they were only blasting at 3g, and he was used to much worse than that. It was hard to move around, certainly, but Bearclaw’s veteran crew could tolerate 3g all day.

  The operation was simple, far less involved than attacking conventionally. The ships of the task group were moving laterally behind the retreating Second Fleet. Once in position they would begin dropping their cargo, screening the rear of the fleet with 120 small buoys. Then they would run for it, following the rest of Second Fleet through the warp gate. If they moved quickly enough they had a chance to escape.

  “Sir, the heavy load is affecting our course. The navcom is requesting permission to compensate.” Ensign Lambert paused, reading the figures on his screen. “It will be a 5.5g burn for four minutes, sir. Commencing in 50 seconds.” Lambert turned to face the captain.

  Jenkins sighed, though he tried to keep it soft. He wasn’t really surprised. Bearclaw had been stripped down, with every non-essential system torn out to make room for the buoys. Even the plasma torpedo tubes were gone. The normally sleek hull was cluttered with external racks holding more of the ship’s precious cargo. There hadn’t been time to balance the loads and properly adjust the engines.

  “Authorize the maneuver, ensign.” We can handle 5.5g for four minutes without the couches, he thought. It was going to suck, but they could do it. “Put me on shipwide com, ensign.”

  Lambert worked his board for a few seconds. “You are on the line, captain.”

  “Attention all personnel. Prepare for 5.5g thrust in approximately 30 seconds. The burn will be roughly four minutes, ten seconds in duration.” He wanted to warn the crew. They could handle the 5.5g if they hunkered down, but if they weren’t careful he was going to have a lot of broken bones and dislocations on his hands.

  “Enhanced burn in ten seconds.” Lambert made the announcement matter-of-factly. “Five, four, three, two, one…”

  Jenkins braced himself in the command chair, trying not to make any unnecessary movements. He focused on his breathing…forcing air into your lungs at 5.5g took a bit of an effort. His back hurt; it was an old injury, and anything over 4g really brought back the pain. Bearclaw’s command chair was fairly hard and uncomfortable when the acceleration couch was retracted, a design flaw Jenkins was hard-pressed to explain. Surely the architects who designed the class realized the couch wouldn’t be deployed for moderate gee maneuvers. Just another inexplicable fact, he thought, mildly annoyed.

  “Returning to 3g thrust in ten seconds.” Lambert’s voice was a little strained, but he was spot on with the timing. The four minutes had passed quickly.

  Jenkins let out a breath as he felt the pressure drop off. Bearclaw was still blasting at 3g, so the relief was only partial. They were still carrying around three times their normal weight…or at least the equivalent.

  “Approaching deployment zone.” It was the ship’s AI this time. The buoys were to be dropped off at precise locations, and the overall plan had been locked into Bearclaw’s master AI. “Initial deployment in 30 seconds.”

  Jenkins shifted around in his chair, trying to get comfortable…or at least less uncomfortable. There was nothing for him to do right now. The ship was on course, and the AI would direct the buoy deployment. About halfway through, the navcom would spin Bearclaw on her positioning thrusters and begin decelerating and altering the ship’s vector toward the warp gate…and escape.

  His people would be in the couches before the buoys activated and gave the First Imperium ships a little surprise. Bearclaw’s crew would have to wait and watch the vids to see the show. If they made it through the warp gate in time.

  Elizabeth Arlington sat in her command chair, the exhaustion burning in every part of her body. The last dose of stims was wearing off…she could feel the fuzziness coming back, the dull headache that reminded her she hadn’t slept in three days. Or was it four?

  Bunker Hill had just transited, and only the four cruisers that had remained to escort the fleet’s wounded flagship remained in Point Epsilon…and they would be coming through any minute. Arlington blinked a few times, trying to clear the prickly lights from her vision. People had been arguing for a century about the effects of a warp gate transit. Some insisted they became nauseous; others said they felt a stabbing pain. Many insisted there was no effect at all. Arlington always saw spots, dancing lights in front of her eyes. The image was there whether her eyes were open or closed, but it only lasted a few minutes, a minor inconvenience for circumventing Einstein’s speed limits on interstellar travel.

  She let out a long breath…she wasn’t sure how she’d had so much air in her lungs. It was a small miracle she was alive, that any of them were. She’d been sure Bunker Hill was done for. Commander Jackson worked wonders even getting the reactor and engines back online, but at 30% power there was no way Second Fleet’s flagship could outrun the pursuing First Imperium task force.

  Then Operation X-Ray commenced. Task Group A had done its job perfectly, creating a screen between Second Fleet and its pursuers. The buoys held their position for 25 minutes, until the enemy fleet reached the designated range. Ten seconds later, 120 massive, bomb-pumped x-ray lasers fired simultaneously. They fired at a range that far exceeded that of any energy weapon the enemy had seen the humans use, and they tore into the exotic alloys of the First Imperium hulls far more effectively than standard lasers.

  They were one-shot weapons, consumed by the nuclear explosions that powered them. But they were exponentially more powerful than anything the Alliance had ever deployed. Three of the Gargoyles were destroyed, and at least ten others damaged.

  “They’re decelerating!” Commander Krimm was a seasoned spacer, but the sight of a First Imperium fleet trying to break off was too much for even the grimmest veteran to contain, and his excitement was obvious. “They appear to be ceasing pursuit, captain!”

  Arlington hadn’t quite believed the words when she first heard them. But Krimm turned out to be correct – the enemy was indeed ceasing pursuit. Bunker Hill would escape after all. It’s a good thing they don’t know we’re out of those laser buoys, she thought. In truth, Second Fleet was a spent force. They’d thrown everything they had at the enemy, everything that could do some good at least. With nothing left but standard lasers, the fleet wouldn’t have been much more than target practice for the enemy particle accelerators. But the First Imperium forces didn’t know that.

  Arlington was lost in her thoughts of the last couple days. Krimm was saying something to her; she could hear his voice in the distance. She wasn’t really listening, but she’d gotten enough to know it wasn’t important, so she waved him off. For the first time in days there wasn’t a crisis, at least not an imminent one. The ship, the whole fleet, was relatively safe, headed back toward Sandoval. And the admiral was in medical stasis, critically injured, but stable.

  The admiral. She’d thought she lost him for a while there. He was a good friend, the closest she’d ever had. More than a friend, she thought, though she rarely let herself acknowledge that. Now the relief washed over her, for Compton and for the ship. She was grimy, sliding aro
und inside her survival suit in three day old sweat. She wasn’t sure what she wanted more, a shower or some sleep, but she was going to pull rank to get one of them.

  “Commander Krimm, you have the con.” She stood up stiffly, sorely. At least we’re only at 1g right now, she thought. That, she knew, wouldn’t last much longer, but she was grateful for what she could get. “I’ll be in my quarters.”

  “Yes, captain.” Krimm stood up, almost as painfully as Arlington, and walked slowly over to the command chair.

  Arlington allowed herself a little smile as she walked through the hatch. It was a short walk - her quarters were just a few meters from the bridge. Well, she thought…the Battle of Point Epsilon is over...and we kicked their asses!

  Chapter 6

  Bridge – AS Hornet

  HP 56548 System

  Approaching Planet Newton

  “Scanning report?” He had asked at least three times in the last hour. Ensign Carp knew to report anything out of the ordinary immediately, but Jacobs kept asking anyway. Hornet was on silent running, on a course almost directly toward the system’s third planet. Newton had been a colony, the farthest out on the frontier and the first place the enemy had attacked. Jacobs didn’t expect to find anyone alive, but he hadn’t expected any survivors on Adelaide either. Hornet was out here scouting behind enemy lines, hoping for a chance to hurt the First Imperium forces, but it was their primary duty to see if any Alliance civilians were still alive out here.

  “Scanner clear, sir.” Carp was very adept with the sensors, and he worked them for all they were worth. Still, with no pre-positioned buoys or orbital satellites to access, Hornet’s ability to scan the system was limited. There could be a First Imperium task force out there somewhere, and they wouldn’t know…not unless they got very close or the enemy ships blasted along at full power.

  “Very well. Compute minimum necessary burn to enter Newton orbit.” Going into orbit was a huge risk. If the enemy had satellites deployed or a force on the surface, Hornet would be detected immediately. They were much safer out in interplanetary space, but Jacobs had to confirm the Newton colonists were all dead.