Convoy Duty

Convoy Duty

Louis Shalako

Copyright 2014 Louis Shalako and Long
Cool One Books

Design: J. Thornton

ISBN 978-1-927957-56-1

The following is a work of fiction. Any
resemblance to any person living or deceased, or to any places or
events, is purely coincidental. Names, places, settings, characters
and incidents are the product of the author’s
imagination.

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Table of Contents

Scene One

Scene Two

Scene Three

About Louis Shalako

Convoy Duty

Louis Shalako

Scene One

The tedium of a long voyage in deep
space was punctuated only by duty and the pressing bodily needs of
food, sleep and hygiene. On a small vessel, interior space was at a
premium, never more so than on a military ship. Boredom brought
problems, but they were manageable. The trip had been strictly
routine this far.

Everyone agreed that was a good thing,
up to a point.

Captain Jake Rhodes studied the
readout.

Mayaguez
was leaking heat and light like a sieve. They
were broadcasting all over the electromagnetic spectrum.

He nodded at the communications
officer.

“
Marko. Contact Mayaguez.
Ask them if they can possibly button it up a little.”

The slender, blond and very young man
nodded wordlessly. He tapped it into his board.

He looked up.

“
Captain Esparza sends his
apologies, but he is understaffed and they are doing the best they
can.”

“
Acknowledged. Ask him to
please make all efforts.”

The young man put his head down again.
This time there was no relevant response.

Jake avoided swearing when
applicable.

The light cruiser
Nike
was engaged in
convoy duty.

The passenger ship
Albireo,
the cargo
ships
Maersk, Astron, Erika, Vega II,
Salem
and the tanker
Mayaguez
were en route from Earth to
the embattled
55 Cancri
system.

Earth’s farthest
outpost,
55 Cancri
was at the end of a very long supply chain. Its three million
human citizens aside, it was a strategic prize of incalculable
value. The closest point to rebel Confederation space, it must be
reinforced at all costs.

The cargo was somewhat
essential to the survival of the colony’s civilian population, but
most of the shipment was intended to bolster the defense of the
planet Kepler. Ultimately, it would be a jumping-off point for the
reintegration of rebel space. The enemy could see that as
well.
Albireo
carried the Fourteenth Army Brigade, and as much of their
heavy equipment as could be jammed in. Some of the equipment was
scattered aboard other ships, wherever it could be fit in or even
lashed on to the outer hull in some cases.

Cancri
system had been raided twice by the Confederation.

The object of the raids
was not conquest, merely subjugation. That was the spec.
Cancri
had few major
industries of her own, but if the small terrestrial planet Kepler
would simply cooperate, it would be a source of badly-needed
stores, military equipment and no doubt manpower.

The Confederation had seceded from the
Empire. The act wasn’t exactly legal—even they didn’t claim that,
only that it was self-determination. Attempts to put down the
rebellion at such a long distance from Earth had only ended in
disaster with the minimal forces allotted.

“
All routine so far,
sir.”

Captain Rhodes nodded at his executive
officer, Commander Rick Allen.

“
Yes. Let’s hope it stays
that way.”

Barely a minute later, out
on the left flank, the frigate
Draco
blew up in a flash of
brilliant blue-white light.

“
Jesus Christ! What in the
hell was that!”

The system was already sounding Battle
Stations and the bridge staff were frantically trying to determine
exactly what was going on or had happened over there. Rhodes
quickly recovered, only to freeze and stare as a projectile,
glowing red on the screens and streaking straight for them,
suddenly dissipated. Small pieces of it sparked and trailed and
tumbled out of existence.

“
All crew! Hang on! I
repeat, hang on! Two degrees-to-port! Pitch,
down,
three degrees!”

The missile sailed over
their heads, and they stared, fixated, at the screens as it
sputtered out, its chemical engines apparently hit, spewing gases
and going into a wild spiral.
Nike
resumed its course on the right flank.

“
We’re under attack,
sir!”

“
Where did that come
from?” Their automated short-range defense system, a simple
rail-gun shooting bits of soft iron wire, had hacked it down.
“Back-track!”

“
Yes sir!”

The path of the known projectile
showed the enemy off to the left and behind the Fleet
units.

The Commander gave curt orders to all
ships as Rhodes’ mind and eyes worked furiously.

“
All ships. All ships.
Take evasive action.” The convoy’s vectors on the navigation screen
broke sharply in a pre-arranged pattern, all of it worked out
beforehand although few seriously thought it would be
used.

They had been mistaken about that. The
changes in vectors were necessarily minute, for none of the
civilian ships were stressed for high-g. It was forlorn hope that
it might spoil the aim of an unseen enemy or make it harder to
acquire and track targets.

They held their breath and
waited.

***

All the captains were on
the
Open
horn,
all speaking at once.

“
One at a time, please.”
Making a slice across his throat, the Commander looked at Captain
Rhodes. “Go ahead, sir.”

Marko turned the civvies down to a
dull roar and awaited further instructions.

“
Demon.
Report.”

“
Draco destroyed by
torpedo, sir. We are looking, sir. There’s nothing out there
according to our systems.”

“
Bullshit.”

“
I know, sir.” Captain
Yazici was shaken by the sudden destruction of
Draco,
a sister-ship of the Earth’s
brand-new D-class frigates.

While not a personal
friend of Captain Seong of
Draco,
three hundred and forty-two people had just
vaporized.

Rhodes turned to Allen.

“
How in the hell did they
do that?”

“
Stealth technology,
sir.”

That much was obvious, but
they should have been detectable by alert military systems and
personnel. After five months in dry-dock, every system on
the
Nike
was
state-of-the-art. All systems were scanning and pinging, every
second and every millimeter of the way.

“
What are your
instructions?” The communications officer had a point.

The civilian ship’s captains were
scared shitless, and someone had to take charge. Rhodes was the
Flag.

“
All right. We’ll re-form,
only this time in extended formation. I want five hundred
kilometers of separation, and they will still be within our
protection envelope. Demon and Eutropius will continue the escort.
The course remains unchanged.”

Fleet replenishment
ship
Eutropius
was lightly armed and at least capable of defending
itself.

The fleet ship also had all the
updated detection and properly-encrypted communication
systems.

The faces onscreen nodded, not a lot
of enthusiasm to be seen there, but they were all professionals.
They would do as they were told.

Almost three-quarters of the way to
their destination, they didn’t have the reaction mass to turn back
or do a whole lot of sudden maneuvering.

As things stood,
Nike
and the other Fleet
units were limited to the speed of the slowest member of the
convoy.

“
Orders, sir?” Commander
Allen gave the chop signal to the communications
officer.

“
Yes. Signal all ships. We
are breaking off to look for survivors—” A hush fell over the
bridge crew on hearing that.

Allen himself looked very
solemn.

“…
and we’re going to take
a look around out there.” Something very cold went through Rhodes’
eyes.

Out there
was a cloud of interstellar dust, thin as a wisp
and barely visible to the naked eye, although it showed up well
enough on instruments of military sensitivity. The convoy had
steered around it, as some of the ships were not well-shielded for
micro-impact.

The captain gave Rick Allen a long
look.

“
Mr. Allen. Are your
people ready?”

“
Sir?”

“
Let’s see if we can find
that enemy ship.”

“
Yes, sir!”

***

Rick Allen’s plan was
ludicrously simple. As was known or suspected from previous
attacks, including the surprise attacks on
Kepler,
the Confederation had
discovered a method of cloaking their ships to avoid
electromagnetic detection. Visual detection, due to the required
shielding from radiation, was almost a forgotten science and
military ships had little provision for it—civilian ships had
virtually none, being almost purely robotic and fly-by-the-numbers.
The crews were minimal but necessary, mostly for the beginning and
end of their flights.

Non-essential personnel,
anyone who was not immediately detailed for battle stations, a
small portion of the ship’s contingent, were stationed in all
available cupolas and view-ports. There were few enough of those on
the ship. It was just as easy to take a look out at an antenna for
example, rather than suit someone up and
go see if it was still there
in the
case of a minor electronic malfunction. The time could be better
spent analyzing systems. Skills and people were always in short
supply on a deep-space military vessel.

The Fleet had grown so
fast since the
split,
as it was called, that most of the
Nike’s
people were on a deep cruise
for their very first time.

Allen stood beside Lane, a crewmember
fresh out of the Academy. They were at the observation dome above
the crew’s mess on Deck Five.

She had been issued with a heavy pair
of good, old-fashioned binoculars.

“
What are we looking for,
sir?”

He shook his head, chewing his
thoughts.

“
Anything, really.” A pair
of binoculars hung round his neck.

The unaccustomed weight and feel drove
some of the adrenalin-laced excitement he felt.

“
Those bastards are still
out there.”