Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1) (65 page)

"Nah,"
claimed the engineer, waving his hand, "the storm'll sweep it
all
away."

"Well,
the problem is gonna' be beating them to the storm," commented
Jack.
He turned to Trigoss, "Think we can push number three a little
more?"

"I'll
try..." The engineer turned and headed back into the dwindling
smoke.
"But don't expect too much..."

Jack,
Paul, Brian and Mike, strode up the corridor towards the
bridge.
"Will Fritz be Ok?" asked Brian after some silence.

Jack
nodded, "Doc says it's basic smoke inhalation and nasal
swelling
from the irritation. A few hours of medicated oxygen treatment and
he'll feel much better."

Paul
smirked, "Saving a guy's life by holding his arm just right
to
keep him from bleeding to death and dragging him two hundred feet to
safety while blinded by smoke..." he suddenly realized he was
thinking out loud and stopped.

"Freakin'
dog deserves a medal," concluded Mike, finishing Paul's
sentence.

"It
was
pretty incredible, wasn't it?" agreed Steele
.

The
ship shuddered, the men missing their footing on the moving
floor
and bouncing against the padded corridor walls. "What the
hell
was that?" shouted Paul, bracing himself.

"I
don't know," said Jack, breaking into a cautious run. The Red
Alert
klaxons sounded as another shudder shook the floor beneath their
feet and Mike hit the floor. The others ran on as Mike scrambled to
his feet, eerie red light bathing the corridors.

"What
the hell is going on?" screamed Jack, as he burst onto the
bridge
followed by the three pilots.

"They're
firing at us long-range," explained the Professor.

"You
mean they're in range already?" Jack plopped into his command
chair
and switched on the console.

"Not
quite," continued Walt, "they're trying to convince us to
surrender.
They'll be in range in thirty seconds."

"You're
kidding..."

"No.
These are a brand new class of UFW cruisers..."

Jack
didn't listen to the rest. "Trigoss," he shouted into the
comm,
"can we get any more?"

"We're
at top, Jack. In fact, she's starting to heat up already...
ten
minutes, fifteen tops, then we're
dead
in the water
,
as you would say."

"Keep
it going," instructed Jack. He turned off the comm. "How
long
to the storm front, Lieutenant?"

"Eight
to ten minutes, sir," replied Ragnaar. "The front surges,
so
the
time is variable."

"We're
in their range in five seconds..." announced Walt.

"Helm,
evasive action!" Jack knew it would be useless to return
fire,
the Freedom's guns had only about half the range.

"Jack!"
shouted Paul, "let us launch!"

"
NO!
"
He swiveled his chair. "Lieutenant, cut power to all non
essential
systems, that includes all gun pods," the ship shuddered as the
first in-range volley from the cruisers, missed. "Route all
extra power to stern shields," he continued. Raulya nodded and
went to work, her fingers dancing across her console as fast as she
could.

"I
know what you're trying to do, Jack," shouted Paul from the
upper
level
behind him, "but it aint gonna' work this time..." The
pilot was remembering the maneuver Jack used in the B25 when he
entered the cloud bank over the Bermuda Triangle back at home. "Let
us go," he urged, "we can slow them down!"

Jack
ignored him. "Helm, nose down!" Quixetta keyed in the
command
and the coming volley passed close over the Freedom. "Level
off."

"Incoming
message, sir..."

"On
screen, Stacell." The face of a determined young Captain
appeared
on
the main screen.

"I
am Captain Kelarez of the UFW cruiser, Archer. You are commanded
to
surrender."

"I'm
sorry," apologized Steele, "I can't do that..."

"Word
is," interrupted Kelarez, "you're a dangerous man,
Captain. But
surely
you must realize," he continued, "your ship is in no
condition to outrun either of our ships. The Archer and the Bowman
were specially built for pursuit. And you surely couldn't hope to
outfight us. So do us all a favor, Sir, surrender."

As
long as he's talking, thought Jack, he's not shooting. "Sir,"
he
began,
"I am Captain Jack Steele of the cruiser Freedom. Earth is our
home planet and we are allied with the UFW."

"Your
ship does not meet any recent profiles on current ships
operating
in UFW space," said Kelarez.

"We
defeated a raiding party of pirates and confiscated this ship for
our
own use. Our rank was issued us by the UFW directorate, so it's all
very official."

“
I'm
sure it is..." injected Kelarez politely.

"But
you folks don't seem to want to be bothered with those kinds of
details,"
commented Jack. "We have been attacked not only by pirates, but
by UFW vessels as well." Jack folded his Arms across his chest.
"So tell me, Captain, why should I choose to trust you? Does
the UFW treat all their new allies like this?"

Captain
Kelarez pondered this for a moment before he spoke, his
handsome
face bent in a frown. "I am truly sorry your travels have been
troublesome. But I am afraid it will get worse before it gets
better. I am a Captain, not an Admiral. And as such, I must follow
orders. They are, to capture your ship and crew, then provide escort
back to the UFW facilities on Phi Lanka, where this would all be
investigated and hopefully straightened out..."

"There
is a federation prison there..." whispered Ragnaar.

"Barring
that," continued Kelarez. "I would be required to destroy
your
ship and crew. Frankly, I would like to avoid that unpleasantness. I
would prefer to escort you. Especially if this all turns out to be
just a complicated screw-up of some kind."

Jack
glanced at the plotting screen on his console's monitor. The
cruisers
had slowed but were gaining with ease, the Freedom was still four
minutes to the storm front.

"This
escort you speak of..."

"Marines,"
interrupted Kelarez with patience, "would take over all
operations
of your ship. You and your crew would be confined to quarters."

Prisoners
on our own ship, thought Jack. How nice. "Well," he said
thoughtfully,
"just how far is this Phi Lanka?"

Ragnaar
turned around and scowled at his Captain, thinking him
serious.
The others were none so sure either. Only Paul, Mike and Brian knew
what he was up to.

"Phi
Lanka is only about two weeks away," replied Kelarez.

"Here
it comes," whispered Paul to Mike.

"Well
there is a problem," explained Jack, "we seem to be having
some
propulsion problems. It would require total shutdown for a day or
so, to sufficiently make repairs to complete the trip..."

Captain
Kelarez raised one eyebrow, his patience running short. "We
would
have to bring your crew aboard then, and leave it here. Or destroy
it." He added.

"Oh
I couldn't do that..." bemoaned Jack. "They love this
ship...
isn't
there some other way? Couldn't you tow it with a tractor beam or
something?" He glanced down at the plotting monitor and back
up.

Paul,
Mike and Brian, exchanged silent glances.

Kelarez
frowned, "A tractor beam? What kind of foolishness is
this?
I think you've been stalling and playing me for an idiot, Captain. I
am not. Do not mistake my kindness for weakness... I have run out of
patience, and you have run out of time. Surrender or die, choose
now."

"Stand
by," said Jack, “let me consult my bridge officers,”
he added, turning his back on the screen. "Audio off,
Ms.
Stacell."

With
his back to the screen, Jack addressed the crew on a ship-wide
comm.
"We are faced with a dilemma, people. To surrender or not to
surrender. That is the question. And I don't feel I can make this
decision for all of us." He took a deep breath. "I don't
want
anyone
to think of the word coward... as far as I'm concerned, no one on
this ship could remotely fit that description. But if there is even
one person that thinks we should give in, speak now... and that will
be the course we will take." There was absolute silence, save
for the hiss of the open comm channel. He waited. But the silence
was
his answer.

Steele
motioned to Stacell and the comm was replaced by vidcom audio
as
he turned back toward the screen. "Captain Kelarez, in World
War Two, General Anthony McAuliffe had a reply for a similar
situation as this...
NUTS!"

Kelarez
raised an eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

Jack
smiled, "Well, as Winston Curchill once put it,
...we
shall
defend
our island whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches,
we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields
and streets, we shall fight in the hills, we shall never
surrender...
Well,
sir, this is
our
island and we will not surrender...”

"He's
nuts..." whispered Paul.

"It's
a practiced talent," commented Brian.

"Have
it your way, Captain!" shouted Kelarez, red faced. The screen
went
blank.

"Hard
to port!" snapped Jack, straightening up. The horizon swung
producing a
blur
of colors. The storm front so large now, it seemed endless to the
left, right, above and below. The Freedom shuddered and lurched, the
fire from the cruisers closer than before.

"They're
being careful to stay out of our range, Jack."

"I
know, Walt. Helm, hard Starboard..." As the bow began to swing
back,
the ship bounced forward, shaking her hard enough to make people
hold on to anything solid. Jack sat back down.

"Direct
hit," announced Raulya. "No damage, stern shields down to
sixty percent
."

“
A
couple more of those and we're done for." said Walt, rather
matter-of-factly.

"Helm,
nose down!" The bow of the Freedom pitched forward. "Get
those
shields back up, Lieutenant." Jack knew she didn't need to be
told, but it felt better to say it. The ship wavered as another
volley of fire passed over the Freedom and glanced against the stern
shields.

"Sixty-percent
and holding..."

The
Archer and the Bowman had taken up stern flanking positions
to
limit the Freedom's evasive maneuvers. It would only be a few
moments until their gunners were able to predict their target's next
move.

"Engineering
to bridge, she's in the red now, I don't know how
much
longer she'll hold out..."