The Legacy of Earth (Mandate Book 2) (19 page)

As soon as the Liza flicked past the derelict, Nekel hit the rigged fire button on the console. She felt a slight jolt as the launcher spit out its first missile. Two seconds later, the SLAM launcher reported green. Nekel pressed the button again, then shifted the Liza left a few degrees and passed by the rear of the Lexington with room to spare. The Liza was moving so fast she was out of sight before the warship could respond to her presence. The entire encounter had lasted only eight seconds. A human could not have engaged the enemy at such velocities, she mused.

The first missile struck the Lexington amidships, hitting one of the launch bays. The second missile exploded nearer to the aft, sending a shudder through the ship and causing a momentary loss of power.

“Lexington, we’re in range of the hostile ship, preparing to dock,” Stone reported from Beetle Two.

An alert sounded at one of the bridge stations. A junior officer said, “Captain, we have a bogey coming toward us at starboard!”

The bridge shook slightly and a distant rumble could be heard and felt through the deck. The alert claxon sounded.

“Report!” the XO demanded.

“We’ve been fired upon!” the tactical officer announced. “It came in too fast to track!”

“What the hell? Was there no warning?” Captain Long said, looking over the junior officer’s shoulders at the tactical display. A missile trace appeared so near the ship it was detected only a second before impact.

A second rumble was heard, causing the railings and consoles to shake violently for a few seconds and the lights to flicker. “Damage report!” Long demanded.

Chief Engineer Parsons said, “Bridge, this is Parsons. Are we taking fire?”

“Second impact!”

“Who’s firing at us, dammit!” Plaas said, lurking over the RADAR operator’s shoulder. The officer pointed to the scope and said, “There . . . and there . . . .”

“On screen,” the captain ordered.

The tactical display was sent to the left front screen while the RADAR display was sent to the right front screen.

Plaas stepped forward to stand next to the captain. “It came out of nowhere . . . from the derelict, it seems,” Plaas said.

“Hmm, no, not
from
the derelict, but from something
behind it
,” the captain said.

“And at that velocity, there was no time to react,” the XO said. “Look at that third track . . . .”

“I thought that was a third missile that missed us!” the tactical officer said.

“No, see the signature? Too large. That was our bogey, moving faster than I’ve ever seen a ship move this close to the—”

“I have the damage report, captain,” a junior officer interrupted.

“Let’s hear it, Owen.”

“Engineering reports damage to reactor four. And . . .
sir
! The starboard hangar bay. . . .”

“What? Was it hit?” the XO demanded.

“It’s been
destroyed
!” the stunned junior officer said in a heavy whisper.

Cmdr. Plaas ran from the bridge, sprinted down the main hall to the first junction, and hopped through bulkhead hatches, all the while yelling, “Make way! Coming through!”

He reached the upper platform leading into the hangar deck and gasped at the scene while trying to catch his breath. Damage control teams were just beginning to respond, getting the hoses in position to blow foam at the fires and breaches. The port launch bays were exposed to space and the rest of the hangar was strewn with debris.

“My . . .
God
!”

Chapter 19
Take Five

“
Captain, engineering here!
Reactor four is overheating. The coolant lines were damaged in the attack and we won’t have them repaired soon enough. We have to eject the reactor!”

“No choice,” the XO said, panting, as he re-emerged onto the bridge. “And it’s true, captain. The hangar bay was breached when that missile exploded.”

Long nodded. “Engineering, bridge. Do it! Eject the—”

“Aye, aye, sir! We’re proceeding to eject reactor four!”

Plaas went back to his forward station. “Rox, Buck, this is Lexington Actual. Come in.”

“Lexington, we read you,” Rox said. “Awaiting orders to proceed.”

“Be advised,” Plaas said in a serious tone, “the Lexington has taken fire. We have sustained heavy damage.”

“
Son of a bitch!
” Cmdr. Pierce blurted, which did not concern the XO in the least.

“Sir, how bad is it?” Marjorie asked.

“Severe but we’re still operational. We lost the starboard hangar bay.”

“Shit! How are we going to dock?” Marjorie said.

“We’ll work on a solution, commander,” the XO said.

Captain Long joined in. “Buck, I want you to proceed with the mission. There’s nothing we can do at the moment; the enemy craft is long gone. Clear out the vermin with extreme prejudice. See if you can find any survivors from team one. Take prisoners if possible but take no extra chances. In and out and back as soon as possible.”

“Roger, Lexington. Orders received and understood,” Cmdr. Pierce said in a much-defused tone of voice.

“There it goes,” the XO said, pointing to the track of the reactor. “Comms, get a live camera on it, now!”

“Aye, sir,” an officer said. The center bridge screen changed to the port-side view of the ship, with a lumpy dark cylinder gliding away and behind the Lexington.

“Arm the heavies!” the XO said.

“There’s no time, Bel,” Long said. “Look at that velocity.”

“Are you telling me that son of a bitch—” and Long held a finger to his lips in a hush gesture “—are you telling me, we have
nothing
that can hit that damn ship from here?”

“One hundred miles,” the tactical officer announced. “One twenty. One forty. That’s it, sir. We can’t target anything moving that fast.”

“
Dammit!
” Plaas cursed. “Engineering, what can we expect from that reactor core?”

“Commander, let’s just be at least a mile away when it blows! The farther the better,” Chief Engineer Parsons said.

“How long?” the captain asked.

“It could take up to—”

There was a bright flash on the screen that overloaded the camera feed to white static.

“Well, that’s it,” Chief Engineer Parsons said.

“And what’s the condition of the other three reactors, chief?” the XO asked.

“Uh, we’re running detailed scans of each reactor and all coolant lines. So far, so good.”

“Keep an eye on them, chief. Monitor them carefully. I want to know if there’s
any
change, however slight, to the power output or temperature readings,” the captain said.

“Aye, sir. We’re on it.”

* * * *

“We’re going to create a diversion in the cargo hold,” Cmdr. Pierce said to his men in the back of Beetle Two. “Just a diversion, not an actual breach. I want them to
think
we’re coming in that way, and lead them away from the top hatch.”

The troopers all nodded. MSgt. Connor said, “Explosives, commander?”

Buck nodded. “Put a timer on it, keep the yield low. I don’t want the access hatch blown. Our men could be anywhere on the ship.
If
they’re still alive. We’re still operating on that assumption.”

“Right,” Connor affirmed. “Willard, you’re on the diversion detail with Biggs. Biggs, escort him, get him into position. He’s greener than a spinach salad so be extra cautious. Willard, plant it, then hustle back. When it blows, we’ll dock with the top port. I can only hope they aren’t monitoring the cameras or that they’re knocked out. Nothing we can do about that. When I give you the signal, you set off the diversion, and we—”

“Sir, a moment!” Lt. Sanderson said from the cockpit. He leaned to the right, looking back through the open cockpit door toward the troopers.

“Yes, lieutenant?” Cmdr. Pierce said.

“I can set us down like a pillow. The only way they’ll know we’re docked is if they’ve got an ear on the port hatch. Or, obviously, if they open it from their side.”

Cmdr. Pierce looked to MSgt. Connor with a grin and a nod. Connor said, “That’s
outstanding
, lieutenant! Let’s do it.”

Lt. Sanderson nodded. “We’re on approach. I’ll have us docked with the port momentarily. Assuming the rear cameras are offline, we’ll not be noticed.”

“Right. Willard, Biggs, are you ready? Willard, you’re the demo man. What size of charge will do the trick?”

Willard pulled out a shock cord made of C4, used to breach hatches. “I was thinking of using this on the bulkhead. It’s thin enough that it won’t penetrate the bulkhead.”

“Are you sure, Willard?” Connor asked. “It’s the same stuff this wall is made of . . .” and he pounded the wall with the back of his fist.

“No danger of a breach, sir. That wall is nanofiber. Much stronger than steel,” Willard said.

“Okay then,” Connor said.

The troopers watched Willard and Biggs make their way along the ship’s hull toward the rear cargo hold.

“That’s an impressive sight,” Cpl. Helsberg observed while looking at the mercenary ship’s battle damage. “I’ve never seen heavy mount damage before.”

Connor looked around. “I doubt if
any
of us has. You, sir?”

Cmdr. Pierce shook his head. “No, I sure have not, master sergeant. It is indeed a fine piece of engineering, that navy weapon. I get the very same
awe
here that I got every time I was near the George Washington, looking up at her from the water line or coming in by chopper. You’ve gotta love those big navy guns.”

“I can’t believe the heavy mount did that much damage in just
one shot
!” Cpl. Helsberg said, her big blue eyes looking childlike behind the faceplate.

Pieces of the starboard engine and half of the cargo hold were floating away in all directions, the largest of which was still visible, spinning wildly a quarter mile aft of the ship. The ship was itself spinning gently counter-clockwise at a quarter rpm, which made docking easy.

A few minutes later, Biggs and Willard were back in view, making their way toward the Beetle. Willard said, “Good to go, sir,” and held up the remote detonator.

“Alright, men—and lady—this is it. Biggs, close the rear and get the air flowing.”

“Got it,” Biggs said as the hatch rose upward and sealed the rear of the ship. They heard the high-pitched hiss of air filling the compartment. “Okay, air pressure at ten pounds.”

“That should be good enough to pull our hatch anyway,” Connor said, and then he unlocked the opened the floor hatch and tilted it up and over, revealing the hatch on the other ship.”

“Damn, red light,” Connor said. We’ll have to cut through. There goes our surprise entrance. Willard, break out the thermite.”

“Got it right here, sir,” Willard said, holding a tiny wrapped cylinder.

“Do it,” Connor ordered.

Willard set the cylinder of thermite on the edge of the hatch over the lock. “Sir, I recommend evacuating the air and sealing the compartment.”

Connor said, “No can do, Willard. Popping the hatch would cause a very brief but still explosive decompression
into
our bird.”

“Okay, then, I advise setting the O2 to the minimum,” Willard said.

“Got it, adjusting O2 versus N,” Biggs said. “Nineteen percent. Eighteen.”

“That’s good!” Willard said.

“Okay, stabilizing at eighteen,” Biggs said.

“Ready, sir,” Willard said while glancing up at Connor.

“Alright, gents—and lady—lock and load. Danse, Jones, you’ve got the DEWs. After the flashbangs, drop and unload in every direction to secure the corridor. We don’t have time for motion detection, just fire and ask questions later.

“Rest of you, pull out your non-lethal mags. Remember, team one is still on board. We assume they’re alive. No screwups,” Connor said. Then, looking to Cmdr. Pierce, “On your order, commander?”

Cmdr. Pierce shook his head, “You’ve got the ball, master sergeant.”

Connor hesitated a moment. He didn’t want the responsibility of keeping a VIP officer safe while doing a search-and-rescue. He nodded.

“Willard, hit the remote charge, then count to three, and hit the hatch. Now!” Connor ordered.

Willard pressed the detonator’s fire button. A green light blinked for a moment then turned red. He nodded the seconds off while looking at the master sergeant, and at three, pulled the thermite cord. The thermite burned silver-white hot and everyone looked away for a moment.

The hatch didn’t fall open.

“It’s just the air pressure differential!” Biggs yelled, and then he stood over the inner hatch and kicked down hard with his boot and it fell open. Biggs quickly fell back to make room.

Danse and Jones both tossed in flashbang grenades and shielded their faces. The compartment below glowed bright white for an instant. Danse held his DEW upright and fell through the hatch, landing heavily on his boots and stepping aside, firing down the passageway. Jones followed in the same manner but facing the opposite direction, unloading a few DEW rounds into the passage as he landed. They each took a step forward, then transmitted, “Clear!”

The remaining four troopers dropped through the hatch. Connor nodded to Cmdr. Pierce, then dropped through the opening himself and landed with his weapon drawn. They were in an intersection of the main hall with a door on either side, the bridge to the right, and the bulk of the ship to the left. The bridge hatch was splattered with blood and covered with bullet dents and a body was leaning against it. Two friendlies lay dead in the hall, riddled with bullets.

Connor whispered his orders. Two men headed quietly for the bridge. Two took positions covering the rear while the rest prepared to breach the doors. One DEW trooper was waiting at the bridge hatch, the other prepared to enter one of the attached rooms.

“Danse, Ritter, report.”

Danse whispered into the helmet microphone, “Bridge looks clear from here, sir.”

“Very well, secure the bridge. Everyone switch to low-light. We’ll await your all-clear here.”

Danse and Ritter crept around the hatch into the bridge and made their way around each side, checking possible hiding spots. Danse spotted a body behind one of the left bridge stations. He crept along toward the body and grimaced when he reached it. “Master sergeant, we have a body, a lance corporal from team one. Otherwise, the bridge is clear.”

Connor swore silently.

“Very well. Danse, Ritter, hold position for the moment.”

“Affirmative.”

Connor thumbed the comm. “Beetle Two, the bridge is secure. One member, team one, found, deceased, with two more here in the hall. We’re proceeding room to room now.”

“Acknowledged, away team,” Cmdr. Pierce replied from the Beetle.

Biggs and Jones were on either side of the first hatch, with the rest of the team arrayed on either side of them to stay out of any lines of fire. Connor stood behind Biggs. He stared at Jones, who gestured to the door panel with his gloved hand. Connor nodded. Jones tapped the panel and the door lock was released. He then pushed the door gently inward with his rifle at the ready.

Biggs stormed into the dark room, followed by Jones, quickly scanning the scene with their vision-enhanced helmets. “All clear! Sir, three bodies in here,” Biggs reported.

Connor stepped into the room while the rest of the team guarded their rear. Standard multipurpose room, twenty feet long, fifteen wide. “Storage room,” Biggs said.

“Looks like two perps here,” Jones said, rolling one of them over to find it was a grizzled old man with a hole through his eye socket.

“Another one of ours back here, sir,” Biggs reported. “Master Sergeant Thatcher Smith.”

Connor went to him.
Damn
. He thumbed the brass channel again. “Beetle Two, team lead two, deceased. Looks like he gave ‘em hell before he bought it.”

Cmdr. Pierce swore under his breath. “Understood. Proceed with the mission. Tag and bag later.”

“Affirmative, commander.”

“Next room, troopers. Keep on your guard. We know there’s at least one live one somewhere on this ship.”

Helsberg and Willard took the door opposite in the hall. Connor looked at each squad member’s position, then nodded to Helsberg. She tapped the panel and pushed the door open with the barrel of her rifle. Willard pushed it the rest of the way and charged in with Helsberg right behind him. “Some sort of recreational dining room,” she said.