Ep.#6 - "Head of the Dragon" (The Frontiers Saga) (52 page)

“Yes, he will,” Nathan confirmed, “and he’ll probably have every gun he’s got on his backside ready to fire the moment we appear.” Nathan turned to Mister Randeen. “We will take a beating; of this I have no doubt. But I need him to believe he can out think us. I need him to believe that we will do what is expected.”

“A risky strategy,” Mister Randeen said.

“Perhaps,” Nathan admitted. “We have an expression on Earth, Mister Randeen. ‘If you don’t bet big, you don’t win big.’”

Mister Randeen smiled, responding with something in Corinairan. “We have a similar expression.”

“Jump plotted, sir,” Mister Riley reported.

“Very well. Mister Randeen?”

“All weapons ready, sir.”

“Jump when ready, Mister Riley,” Nathan ordered.

“Jumping in three……”

Nathan set his eyes on the forward view screen.

“Two……”

In a moment, the Avendahl would appear as a small object that would grow to fill the screen in less than a minute.

“One……”

“
Captain, jump control,
” his comm-set called.

“Jumping……”

The bridge filled momentarily with the blue-white flash of the jump drive. When it cleared a split second later, the Avendahl filled the screen.

“Jump compl…” Mister Riley’s words trailed as he realized they had jumped in closer than expected.

“Helm! Hard to starboard! Roll forty-five degrees as you turn!” Nathan ordered. By the time he finished his command, the ship was already rolling over to her starboard side and turning hard. Rail gun fire pounded the Aurora’s nose as she turned and rolled, the slugs walking across and down her length onto her more heavily reinforced underside.

“Taking fire!” Mister Randeen reported.

“Return fire! Helm, keep turning until our aft tubes are on her! Tactical, stand by to fire five and six!”

“Sir!” Mister Randeen called out. “We’re only two hundred meters out. If we use nukes…”

“Aft tubes coming onto target in three seconds,” Mister Chiles called out.

“We’ll take our chances!” Nathan insisted as the Avendahl’s rail guns continued to rock the ship.

“Two……”

“Five and six ready,” Mister Randeen confirmed. “Rail guns are firing.”

“One……”

“Stand by, two click jump!”

“Zero……”

“Fire torpedoes!” Nathan ordered.

“
Captain, jump control,
” Abby called over the comm-set again.

“Firing five and six,” Mister Randeen answered.

“Clear jump path ahead,” Mister Chiles reported.

“Helm! Full speed ahead!”

“Full speed ahead, aye!” Mister Chiles responded as he brought the Aurora’s main drive up to full power.

“Five seconds to torpedo impact!” Mister Navashee reported.

“Jump!” Nathan ordered. Nothing happened.

“Three seconds,” Mister Randeen reported.

“Jump, Mister Riley!” Nathan repeated.

“Two……”

“I tried, sir! The jump drive isn’t responding!”

“One……”

“Alert all decks! Incoming radiation!” Nathan ordered.

“Impact.”

For a moment, the rail gun fire all but ceased, only to pick up again from a different angle as it continued to pound away at their underside.

“Radiation levels spiking across our stern!” Mister Navashee reported.

The bridge suddenly shifted under their feet, sliding violently from left to right and nearly knocking Nathan out of the command seat. “What the hell was that?!” Nathan asked as the bridge shook several more times.

“Debris!” Mister Navashee reported.

“That means we hit something,” Mister Randeen added.

“Mister Riley, why aren’t we able to jump?” Nathan asked.

“Unknown, sir. The jump fields don’t to want to form.”

“Damn! Helm, continue course and speed. Get us as far away as you can,” Nathan ordered.

“
Captain!
” Abby’s voice called over the comm-set a third time.

“Yes, Doctor?!” Nathan finally responded.

“
There’s something about the Avendahl’s ZPED that interferes with our jump fields!
”

“What?”

“
Our jump fields! They will not engage as long as we are in close proximity to that ZPED! You must get some distance between us and that ZPED in order for the jump fields to generate!
”

“How far?!” Nathan asked.

“
Based on their current output, maybe five kilometers!
”

“Distance from target?” Nathan asked.

“Fifteen hundred meters and increasing!” Mister Navashee answered.

“Could that explain why we jumped in considerably closer than expected?” Nathan asked Abby over the comm-set.

“
Possibly, I don’t know yet,
” Abby admitted.

“Captain!” Naralena interrupted. “Engineering reports damage to our secondary heat exchangers. He is taking reactors three and four offline to reduce our heat output.”

“Is that going to affect our main propulsion?” Nathan asked.

“Main drive is still showing full power, Captain,” Mister Chiles reported.

“Then shouldn’t we be moving off faster?”

“Yes, sir, we should,” Mister Chiles agreed. “I can’t explain it!”

“Two kilometers from the target and increasing,” Mister Navashee updated.

“Medical reporting casualties, sir,” Naralena reported.

“Close the secondary heat exchanger doors!” Nathan ordered, chiding himself for not ordering them closed when he rolled the ship to show the Avendahl their underside.

“Target is firing!” Mister Navashee reported. “Four missiles inbound!”

“Switch rail guns to point-defense mode!” Nathan ordered.

“Rail guns to point-defense,” Mister Randeen responded.

“Missile impact in fifteen seconds!” Mister Navashee updated. “Distance from the Avendahl is twenty-five hundred meters and increasing.”

“One missile down!” Mister Randeen reported from the tactical station. “Two down!”

“She’s firing again. Four more inbound.”

“We’re down to three hundred thousand point-defense rounds,” Mister Randeen reported. “Three down. First wave defeated. We can’t keep this up for much more than ten minutes, sir, even with selective firing. Sooner or later, we’re going to run out of point-defense rounds.”

“The Avendahl is accelerating!” Mister Navashee interrupted. “She’s trying to keep up with us.”

“Engineering reports heat levels are reaching critical levels. If they get much higher, they’ll have to take reactor two offline as well.”

“If we lose another reactor, we won’t be able to use all of our rail guns at once,” Mister Randeen warned. “Second wave of missiles has been defeated. Point-defense down to two-fifty.”

“Is she firing again?” Nathan asked.

“No, sir,” Mister Navashee reported. “Current range from the Avendahl is three kilometers and still increasing, although at a slightly slower rate.”

“She’s probably waiting to finish her turn in order to use her forward missile batteries, Captain,” Mister Randeen suggested.

“When she finishes her turn, she’ll be able to accelerate faster,” Mister Chiles added.

“You think she’ll be able to keep up with us?” Nathan asked.

“Under normal circumstances, not a chance,” Mister Chiles assured him, “but I still don’t know why we’re not pulling away from her as fast as we should be.”

“She’ll finish her turn in twenty seconds,” Mister Navashee reported.

“We’re starting to take a lot of rail gun fire on our stern, sir,” Mister Randeen reported from tactical. “She may be trying to take out our main drive.”

“Not with rail guns she’s not,” Nathan insisted. “The heat from our drive will melt her rounds before they even touch us. She’s aiming for our stern guns. If she can take them out, she’s got a better chance at putting a missile up our ass.”

“Ten seconds until she finishes her turn.”

“Range?” Nathan asked.

“Three point five kilometers and still increasing slowly,” Mister Navashee answered.

“Helm, reverse your turn and roll one eighty to port. Let’s show her our topside this time so we can bring more guns onto her.”

“Coming hard to port and rolling one-eighty, aye,” the helmsman answered.

“Mister Willard, anything you can do to keep her from targeting us?” Nathan asked.

“No, sir. The Avendahl’s missiles are internally guided. I can try to jam their tracking systems, but as quickly as they reach us, I doubt I’ll have much luck. They’re not doing much maneuvering on their way over.”

“We’re crossing her bow,” Mister Navashee reported. “She’s firing again. Four more inbound; twenty-five seconds out.”

“Is it just me, or do those seem like awfully slow missiles?” Nathan wondered.

“The battleships use larger, longer-range missiles,” Mister Randeen explained. “They take longer to accelerate than the short-range missiles. It does make them easier to intercept at this distance.”

“Ours are short-range, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then shouldn’t we be firing them?”

“Yes, sir,” Mister Randeen acknowledged. “Firing four.”

“Ten seconds to enemy missile impact,” Mister Navashee reported. “Two still inbound.”

“Three down,” Mister Randeen reported. “Fourth missile is still coming. Impact in five seconds.”

“All hands, brace for impact!” Nathan ordered.

Naralena repeated the captain’s warning ship-wide. A second later, the missile struck the Aurora.

“Hull breach, main drive, just aft of reactor four!” Mister Randeen reported as he held onto the tactical console to brace himself against the force of the missile impact as it reverberated throughout the ship.

“Range from the Avendahl?”

“Four kilometers, sir.”

“Are we still gaining ground?” Nathan asked, surprised that they were not yet to a safe jump range.

“No, sir, range is decreasing.”

“What?” Nathan couldn’t believe it. A ship that large should not be able to keep up with the Aurora. After all, the Avendahl was more than four times their size with considerably more mass.

“It’s down to three point nine five kilometers and falling,” Mister Navashee reported, double-checking his readings. “If it continues to fall at this rate…”

“Fire in pump room four!” Mister Randeen reported.

“Damage Control! Captain!” Nathan called over the comm-set. “What’s our status?”

“We’ve got an out of control fire in the number four propellant pump room!”
Master Chief Montrose answered over the comm-set.
“We need to clear everyone out so we can vent the section to space!”

“How much time?”

“One minute!”
The master chief answered.

“Too long!”

“It would help if we could shutdown the pump.”

“Negative, Master Chief,” Nathan told him. “We can’t afford to lose any more propulsion. The Avendahl’s gaining on us as it is.”

“Captain…”

“Vent it now, COB. That’s an order!” Nathan yelled.

“Aye, sir,”
the master chief answered, clicking off his comm-set.

“Showing a twenty percent drop in output on pump four,” Mister Chiles reported.

“The pump is overheating, Captain,” Mister Riley added.

“Range from Avendahl is three point eight five kilometers and falling,” Mister Navashee reported.

“Thirty percent drop,” Mister Chiles continued.

“Come on, COB,” Nathan mumbled.

“Range is three point six five.”

“Atmospheric pressure in pump room four is falling,” Mister Randeen reported. “The whole section is depressurizing.”

Nathan could feel his heart sink. Along with the fire in the pump room, men were dying in the back of his ship, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Holding at thirty percent.”

“Range at three point four five.”

“Fire is out, sir. Zero pressure.”

“Pump four output increasing. Seventy-five percent. Eighty percent. Eighty-five.” Mister Chiles turned and looked at the captain. “Holding at eight-five, sir.”

“The pump must have been damaged by the heat,” Mister Riley stated.

“Range to Avendahl?” Nathan asked.

“Three point three and falling slowly,” Mister Navashee reported. “At our current closure rate, we’ll be too close to defend against her missiles in fifteen minutes.”

“Captain, I’ve fired three rounds of missiles so far. None of them have gotten through,” Mister Randeen reported. “The Avendahl’s point-defense systems are just too good. Shall I continue firing?”

“Stand by,” Nathan ordered. “Are we still on course for Takara?” he asked the navigator.

“Roughly, yes,” Mister Riley answered.

“She’s firing missiles again, Captain,” Mister Navashee announced.

“Point-defense, Mister Randeen,” Nathan ordered solemnly.

“Aye, sir, but we’re down to two hundred thousand rounds.”

“That’s good for maybe three more volleys,” Nathan surmised.

“By that time, we’ll be close enough for them to finish us off with torpedoes.”

“Why haven’t they used their energy weapons?” Nathan wondered.

“They may not be hooked into the ZPED power systems yet,” Mister Willard speculated.

“All four missiles intercepted,” Mister Randeen reported. “Down to one fifty.”

“Contact!” Mister Navashee reported. “It’s the Falcon.”

“Receiving data stream,” Naralena announced. Her face turned grim. “Sir, the staging area in Answari was overrun by Ghatazhak forces. At the request of Captain Waddell, Major Prechitt and his squadron dumped their ordnance directly on the staging area.”

“Any survivors?” Nathan asked in shock.

“Unknown, sir.”

“Any word from Lieutenant Commander Nash or the Karuzari?”

“No, sir,” Naralena answered. “The Falcon is asking if they can be of assistance.”

“Warn them to keep their distance. We don’t need them getting caught up in here as well.”

“Target is firing again. Four inbound.”

“Helm, reverse your turn and roll to starboard,” Nathan ordered, hoping to buy a few extra seconds for his point-defense systems to intercept the incoming missiles by forcing them to turn hard as well.