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Cmdr. Victor Shiloh noticed that the usual Bridge chatter had died down to almost nothing as the Squadron emerged from Jumpspace. Everyone knew the stakes. One of their own was missing, and they were here to find her. FE 319 – Frigates didn’t rate names – had not reported back to base, and it hadn’t sent a message drone. This was very worrisome. If the ship had been able to return, it would have. If it had malfunctioned or there was some other reason for a delayed return, such as a major discovery of some kind, it would have sent the drone back. The entire squadron, seven Frigates under the command of Squadron Leader Torres, had been sent to investigate. FE 344, under Cmdr. Shiloh, was designated as the rear guard, staying behind at the point where the Squadron emerged so that it could jump back into Jumpspace with a warning for HQ if something nasty happened to the other six ships of the squadron. FE 344 decelerated to a crawl, relatively speaking, while it changed its orientation to enable it to jump away from this star system instead of closer to it. With that maneuver done, Shiloh relaxed just a little bit. They could now jump at a moment’s notice if they had to.
“Now we wait,” he said, loud enough for the rest of the Bridge crew to hear him. He switched his command station’s main viewer to show the long range Tactical display. He saw his ship, at the center of the display, as a green triangle, with six other green triangles slowly moving to the top of the screen, spreading out as they did so towards the inner part of this star system. As he watched, the display showed clusters of smaller green dots moving away from the green triangles. The Squadron had launched reconnaissance drones for long range snooping. A star system was a big place for one small ship to hide in. By comparison, a needle in a haystack was trivial. Without the recon drones, it could take weeks to find the missing ship.
Nothing of significance was occurring to engage Shiloh’s attention, and he began to ponder how the nature of faster-than-light travel determined Humanity’s expansion into the rest of the galaxy. The rate at which ships traveled through Jumpspace was determined by how fast they were moving when they entered Jumpspace. The more velocity a ship had, the faster the transit through Jumpspace, although the relationship was logarithmic rather than linear. If you wanted to go twice as fast in Jumpspace, you had to build a velocity that was ten times as fast in normal space. Entering and moving through Jumpspace required energy that was generated by the fusion of heavy hydrogen. The contra-gravity engines that moved a ship through normal space also required lots of energy. So when a ship’s limited supply of heavy hydrogen was low enough to be a factor in a planned transit between two star systems, the Astrogator calculated the optimum combination of normal space acceleration, Jumpspace duration and normal space deceleration at the other end, to minimize the total consumption of fuel. What irked Shiloh, and most of the other exploration frigates commanders, was the fact that their ships hadn’t been designed to be able to refuel themselves by skimming the atmospheres of gas giants, separating the tiny amounts of heavy hydrogen from the more abundant normal hydrogen. For some reason, which no one seemed to understand, the designers had traded the self-refueling capability for a larger fuel capacity. This meant that the frigates could operate for longer periods of time before having to rendezvous with tankers, but they still had a limited range of operation. That meant that explorations squadrons were tied to tankers, which themselves could only move forward if they were certain that the destination star system contained at least one gas giant, and not all star systems did. SFE144 was operating at the limit of its internal fuel supply. Regardless of what they did or didn’t find here, the squadron’s frigates had just enough fuel to make it back to their assigned tanker.
It was an hour later when things started to happen. By that time, the rest of the Squadron was far enough away that there was an appreciable time lag in two-way communications. The other six ships kept in constant contact with 344 by tight beam, low-powered lasers, and 344 acted as a relay station, keeping each ship in the squadron in contact with the rest, albeit with an even bigger time lag. It was easier for them to stay in contact with one fixed location – 344 – than it would have been with multiple moving locations. The relay ship kept track of the moving ships by the direction of the incoming laser beams and by the navigational data that each ship provided about its speed and course. Computers onboard the relay ship aimed the return laser where the target ship would be by the time the laser beam arrived there. Theoretically, two ships could communicate from opposite sides of a star system, but the time lag of many hours made it not worth the effort. Shiloh became aware that his Executive Officer had arrived on the Bridge to relieve him.
“You’re relieved, Skipper,” said Lt. Commander Angela Johansen.
Shiloh nodded and swiveled his command chair around to face her. After getting up, he waited while she sat down and adjusted the command chair to better fit her body’s smaller dimensions. A properly adjusted chair made a four-hour duty shift a lot more tolerable. As she did so, he couldn’t help noticing – once again – that she had a very attractive figure. Not that he was actually tempted to do anything with that fact. While physical relationships between officers were not prohibited, they were ‘discouraged’ on the theory that anything other than a professional relationship might result in biased performance reviews. When she was finished, he leaned over so that their conversation wouldn’t distract the rest of the Bridge crew who were also in the process of being relieved.
“No sign of 319 yet, or of anything else for that matter. The ship’s in stealth mode. Maintain the status quo. I’m going to hit the sack, but I want you to call me if there’s any new development.”
“Understood. I’ll pass that on to Michaels when he relieves me. What do you think happened to the 319, Skipper?”
Shiloh shrugged. “There’s no distress beacon, no message drone beacon. That’s not a good sign. It suggests to me that whatever happened to the 319, it happened so fast that they didn’t have time to launch a message drone, or else the message drone was destroyed or disabled.” He paused while both of them pondered the implications of that. “Listen, stay sharp and make sure everyone else stays sharp too. I don’t want us to be surprised, right?”
The XO nodded. “Right.”
Shiloh gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder as he moved away, heading down to his cabin. He was surprised how tired he was. This mission was a lot more stressful than the survey missions the exploration frigate squadrons normally engaged in, and it wasn’t the first time an FE had gone missing. That first ship had belonged to another squadron exploring a different sector of space, and no sign of it had yet been found. When 319 was declared overdue, their nearest forward base had ordered their squadron to search for her under the rules of engagement that had been designed for war but never used – until now. Hence the ship was operating in stealth mode. There were no running lights and no energy emissions of any kind, except for the tightly focused communication beams that were impossible to detect unless another ship happened to pass exactly between the sender and the receiver.
By the time Shiloh reached his cabin, he was too tired to think about their situation anymore. He didn’t even bother to remove his uniform as he let himself fall face down on his bunk. Sleep came almost instantly ... and when his wakeup alarm sounded, he immediately woke up. For a few seconds he thought he must have set it to the wrong time. He checked it and realized that he had slept seven hours, which gave him one hour to shower, dress and grab something to eat in the Officer’s Mess before heading back to the Bridge for his duty shift. While he got ready to take a shower, he decided to check with the Bridge.
“Intercom,” he said, activating the two com implants, one in his ear and one adjacent to his voice box. “Bridge ...”
“Bridge here, Skipper.”
“Status report, Michaels.”
“No sign of the 319. The Squadron is continuing its sweep pattern. No change in ship’s status.”
“Acknowledged.”
By the time he had showered, dressed and began drinking a coffee in the Officers’ Mess, he was feeling much more alert. Just as he started to eat his breakfast, the Bridge called him.
“Shiloh here.”
“Skipper, 301 reports that one of their recon drones has detected a vessel at long range. It seems to be drifting. As far as they can tell at that range, the ship is the right size to be the 319. The SL has ordered 323 and 299 to rendezvous with her at the drifting ship. It’ll take them approximately five and a half hours to intercept the drifting vessel with zero velocity. The drone is being vectored for a flyby, and 301 expects to have a positive ID in approximately 34 minutes. With the time lag in transmission, we should know about 9 minutes after that. “
“Did the Squadron Leader have any instructions for us?”
“No Sir.”
“Very well then. We’ll wait until there’s a positive ID before I inform the crew. Anything else, Commander?”
“No Sir.”
“I’ll be up to the Bridge shortly then. End message.”
Shiloh pondered the information he’d just received. If that really was the 319, then perhaps it was just a malfunction of some kind. Anxious to get back to the Bridge, he finished his breakfast quickly and headed up. Even though he was almost 15 minutes early for his duty shift, he decided to relieve the Second Officer now. After relieving Lt. Commander Michaels, he did a quick check of the ship’s systems and status, and then settled in to await word of the drifting ship’s identity.
The time-lagged word came through the comlink just about right on schedule. It WAS the 319. Squadron Leader Torres had ordered the drone flyby video feed to be retransmitted to the relay ship and then to the other ships of the squadron. Shiloh watched the video in real time and then replayed it in slow motion with maximum zoom. The drone got to within one klick of the 319, and the video clearly showed that the 319 had suffered some kind of damage to its hull. Shiloh could see in its hull what appeared to be a long straight gash that cut diagonally from the Bridge almost all the way back to the Engineering Section. He couldn’t imagine any kind of malfunction that would cause that particular kind of damage. What he could imagine was an attack by an energy weapon like a laser. He decided to keep his suspicions to himself for now, but the crew deserved to know that their sister ship had been found.
“Intercom ... ship-wide ... Attention all hands. We’ve just received confirmation that one of 301’s drones has positively identified a drifting ship as the 319. No contact with her crew has been achieved, so there’s no way to know at this time what the status of her crew is. As soon as we get additional information, it will be passed on to all of you. Let’s hope the news is good. That’s all for now. End message.”
Now that he’d gotten that duty out of the way, Shiloh checked the incoming data feed from Torres. The Squadron Leader hadn’t expressed an opinion as to the cause of 301’s situation either. However good the drones’ optics were, the definitive answer would have to wait until human eyes got up close and personal. What the SL had done, though, was to order the recon drone to swing around for another slower – and closer – pass. The drone would still make it back to the 319 before the 301, 323 and 299 arrived in the vicinity with zero remaining velocity. But once there, Torres would send over a ship’s boat with a boarding party that included not only medical and engineering personnel, but also an inspection team to look closely at the exterior damage. Until then, they just had to wait and see.
The remainder of Shiloh’s shift went surprisingly fast. After being relieved by Lt. Cmdr Johansen once again, he went back to the Officers Mess for lunch. He was alone, as usual, since his eight hour ‘day’ just happened to coincide with most officers’ eight hour ‘night’.
His lunch finished, Shiloh leaned back in his chair and lingered over his coffee. Even though he wasn’t tired, he felt the urge to close his eyes. Then something happened that had not happened to him since he was in his teens. He felt an unusual, yet strangely familiar sensation come over him. When he opened his eyes, he saw himself standing in front of Admiral Howard’s desk back at U.E.S.F. HQ. He heard the Admiral speak.
‘It’s a good thing you launched those recon drones when you did, Commander. The mission would have ended very differently if you hadn’t.’
Then he felt that same urge to close his eyes for a few seconds.
When he opened them again, he was back in the Officers’ Mess on board the 344. The last time he had a ‘vision’ like that was when he and some friends were climbing in the rugged wilderness of the Rocky Mountains. In that vision, he saw and heard a rescue paramedic congratulate him on having the foresight to attach a second safety line to his friend before climbing the cliff they had planned to ascend. So he did, in fact, attach a second safety line. Halfway up the cliff the first line snapped, and his friend only suffered a painful gash instead of a fatal plunge to his death. At the time he thought the vision must have been just his imagination, and yet here he was having another one.
After pondering this situation for a few minutes, he took a deep breath and said, “Intercom ... Bridge.”
The XO responded almost immediately. “Bridge here.”
Shiloh said nothing for a few seconds, and then said, “Angela, how many recon drones are we carrying this trip?”
There was a slight pause as the XO checked. “We have four type seven drones, Skipper.”
Shiloh said nothing while he pondered whether to follow his vision.
“Was there something else, Sir?” Johansen asked with a puzzled tone to her voice.
Shiloh came to a decision. “XO, I want you to program two recon drones for a circular track around the ship at a range of ... 100,000 klicks, with minimal overlapping coverage. What's the maximum duration we can get with that?"
He waited while she asked the computer for the answer.
“Approximately 48 hours, which means the drones will complete three trips around the ship. If you were thinking of extending our sensor coverage, then I would recommend using three drones with circular tracks in three dimensions, with one complete circle every eight hours. That would mean the drones would exhaust their power supply in twelve hours, but if we recover them prior to shutdown, we can recharge them. With four drones, we can have three on the go all the time if we launch one every four hours.”
Shiloh shook his head. “But that would mean only partial coverage for the first eight hours, correct?”
“Affirmative.”
“No good. I want complete coverage from the get go.”
The XO pondered that requirement. “Okay. Here’s how we do it. We launch three drones now, then retrieve and refuel one every four hours when we’ve replaced it with a fresh one."
“Okay. That works for me. Implement it right away and maintain until further notice.“
“Aye, aye, Sir. Anything else, Sir?”
“No that’s it. Shiloh clear.”
Shiloh felt better for having taken that action, even as he wondered how he would justify it in his log. Somehow he didn’t think the brass back at HQ would think much of his admission to having a ‘vision’. Senior Officers tended to get nervous when the Commander of a 20,000-ton Frigate started ‘seeing things’. Shiloh decided not to mention his vision in his log. He went back to his cabin and sat down to go over the daily reports and the other administrative tasks that a Commanding Officer regularly needed to attend to during his free time between duty shifts. Halfway through the pile of paperwork, the Bridge called.
“Bridge to Shiloh.”
“Shiloh here.”
“Skipper, we just received the video feed from the drone’s second pass. The level of detail is much higher. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but the hull damage looks like what you would expect from laser fire. Torres hasn’t expressed an opinion, but if you ask me it’s obvious as hell.”
Shiloh felt a shiver go down his spine. “Based on what I saw from the first flyby, that doesn’t surprise me.” He pondered the situation for a few seconds before adding, “Okay, I’m coming to the Bridge. End message.”
When Shiloh got to the Bridge, the XO started to get up from the Command Station, but Shiloh waived her back down. “Just pretend I’m not here,” he told her.
Johansen just snorted in reply as Shiloh went to the Com Station and asked the Com Tech to replay the drone’s second flyby video. The XO hadn’t exaggerated. The video feed clearly showed a deep, straight gash with blistering around the edges. Laser fire was the only possible explanation.
“Com. Is a message drone being updated with the data from the Squadron?”
“Affirmative Sir.”
“Intercom ... ship-wide ... Attention all hands, this is the CO. I’ve just seen evidence from the 301’s recon drone flyby that our sister ship, the 319, was attacked by unknown forces. The 301 will be sending over a boarding party to search for survivors. As soon as I hear what they find, I’ll pass it along. In the meantime, we have to be vigilant for whoever did this. If we need to go to General Quarters, you have to be ready to act instantly. If you hear the GQ alarm, it’ll be the real thing. I’m suspending drills for the duration of this mission. That is all for now. End message.”
Shiloh was just about to walk away from the Com Station when the Com Tech turned to him and said, “Skipper, there’s a message for you from Cmdr Torres.”
With the 9-minute time lag, it was going to be a one-way message.
“Okay. Replay it from the beginning, Chen.”
“Aye, aye, Sir. Switching now.”
One of the screens at the Com Station suddenly showed the face of Commander Juanita Torres, who began speaking immediately.
“Shiloh, by now you’ve probably seen the evidence that 319 was attacked. The chances of finding survivors seem slim based on the exterior damage that we can see from here. 323 and 299 will be rendezvousing with us soon. I have a nagging suspicion that 319 is being used as bait. If that’s correct, then we may also be attacked at any moment. If you haven’t already done so, I want you to launch a message drone with all of the data collected so far. If my hunch is correct and we are attacked, you are ordered to immediately, repeat immediately jump back to our staging point and make sure the Base knows what happened. Do NOT under any circumstances come to our aide. I’m instructing the remainder of the Squadron to come together and join us asap. It’s my intention to leave this system as soon as we’ve finished recovering survivors, if any, and have downloaded 319’s datalogs. Your primary mission is to get word back to Base. If you’re attacked, you have permission to jump out of here as quickly as you can. Good luck to us all. Torres out.”
Shiloh didn’t hesitate. “Com. Launch the message drone now and acknowledge the SL’s message.”
The response was immediate. “Message drone launched, Sir, Squadron Leader’s message has been acknowledged.”
“Understood.”
He walked over to the Command Station and met the XO’s gaze. “You heard?”
She nodded and was just about to say something when they heard the phrase that Shiloh had been dreading.
“Sensor contact bearing 089 by 022!”
Johansen switched one of her Command Station screens to the same display as the sensor tech was watching.
“Can you determine distance, course and speed?” asked the XO.
“Not yet, Sir. Only one of our recon drones has detected a faint reflection of sunlight off a metallic surface, and we’d need at least two drones to triangulate an approximate distance, course and speed. The other two drones are scanning the general direction of the reflection. We may have a better fix momentarily, Sir.”
Johansen looked at her Boss. “Skipper, I recommend we go to General Quarters,” she said quietly.
He didn’t hesitate before nodding. After the XO sent the ship to General Quarters, Shiloh said, “XO, I’ll take the Con.”
As she turned to get up, she said for the benefit of the Bridge crew, “Skipper has the Con!”
When Shiloh sat down in the Command Chair, he took the precaution to strap himself in, just in case the ship had to maneuver more violently than the inertial compensators could handle. He took a good look at the screen displaying the sensor contact. It showed the three recon drones – one in the center and the other two in the upper and lower right corners, a green triangle that was equidistant from the icon representing the 344, and a red flashing line extending from one drone to the upper left side of the screen. The alien vessel was somewhere along that line. If one of the other two drones could also detect a reflection, the screen would show a second line from that other drone, and the intersection of the two lines would indicate the position of the alien vessel. Without that approximate position, there was nothing that 344 could do. The screen also showed the message drone gradually moving away from the ship on a course that could take it dangerously close to the alien vessel, depending on where that ship might be. If the alien detected the message drone and tracked its course backwards, it would have a pretty good idea that another ship was lurking in the vicinity. While he was waiting for a second drone to get a fix on the alien, Shiloh realized that he should inform Squadron Leader Torres of their situation.
“Com, I’m recording a message for SL Torres and the Squadron. Transmit it as soon as I’m done.”
“Aye, aye, Sir.”
“Commander Torres, we have detected an unknown and presumably hostile vessel. The bogey’s range, course and speed have not yet been determined. I don’t believe that we’ve been spotted yet. It’s my intention to attack the bogey as soon as we have a better fix on its position. A message drone has been launched but may be detected, which is why I’m going to distract the bogey with our own attack. 344 may have to maneuver without warning. I recommend that the rest of the Squadron establish a new com link with you, using your recon drone near the 319 as a temporary relay. If my attack is successful, I will follow your previous instructions and head back to our staging point without further delay. End message.”
There was still no second sighting. Shiloh wished he could attack now with the 344’s lasers, but the faintness of the reflection was too imprecise to allow for much chance of a direct hit. A near miss would only alert the enemy vessel to 344’s presence. He had to have at least two sensor sightings to have a realistic chance for a laser hit. Three sightings would improve the odds even more. The fact that neither the 344 nor the other two drones had seen any reflection suggested that the alien vessel’s hull was at an angle relative to the sun such that no reflections were being bounced in the general direction of the other drones or the frigate. That implied that the alien wasn’t maneuvering and therefore hadn’t detected them. If it detected something, it might change its course and/or speed and perhaps even its orientation relative to the sun.
Shiloh suddenly had an idea. He decided to take over direct control of the recon drone that was farthest from the bogey. He ordered its onboard A.I. pilot to broadcast an omni-directional signal lasting a fraction of a second, hoping it would be just enough to get the alien’s attention and cause it to begin maneuvering. The ploy worked. No sooner had the drone transmitted the signal than the bogey began to maneuver AND rotate its hull orientation. Its hull’s irregular surfaces caused sunlight to bounce in new directions, and both the frigate and one of the other drones caught the reflection. Sensor data was quickly analyzed by the tactical A.I. The range to the bogey was now determined to be 144,000 klicks away. Speed was only about 13 kilometers per second, but it was accelerating at a very respectable 1.1 kps squared in the direction of the signal from the drone. Shiloh glanced at the screen showing the Tactical Officer’s primary display. The Tactical A.I. was projecting a laser hit probability of 61.8% but as more sensor data came in, the hit probability was getting better. At the rate it was changing, it would reach 90% in a few seconds. Shiloh had another idea. He asked the Tactical A.I. to plot possible intercept courses for the recon drones versus the bogey. Only two of the drones were close enough AND fast enough to intercept the alien ship if it maintained its present course and acceleration. One of the two drones had been the one that sent the signal. Shiloh ordered all three drones to attempt to intercept and ram the alien ship. Even though the third drone would not be able to catch up to the alien ship if it continued its acceleration, it provided insurance against the chance of the bogey reducing its speed. Shiloh looked at the hit probability display. It was approaching 90%, but the rate of increase was slowing as the law of diminishing marginal returns kicked in. Theoretically it would eventually hit 100% if enough sensor data was accumulated or the target got close enough, but at this distance, the best probability that Shiloh could hope for in a reasonable length of time was in the low 90’s. 344 had two standard laser turrets, designed primarily for use against unarmored pirate and smuggler vessels. If that alien ship had any kind of hull armor, his lasers might need multiple hits to penetrate it. That was another good reason to try to ram the bastard. Even hull armor would have difficulty in mitigating the damage caused by the kinetic energy from a collision at the kind of speeds that both the bogey and the drones would be traveling. The effect would be similar to what happened when tanks fired armor-piercing, kinetic energy shells at other tanks. The kinetic energy at the point of impact was so great that the impacting metal rod instantly turned to a jet of super hot gases that punched through even the densest armor like a hot knife through butter. If 344’s lasers didn’t cripple that ship, then Shiloh hoped the ramming drones would.
Without turning his head, Shiloh called to his Weapons Officer. “Weapons!”
“Sir?” replied the officer with a tense voice.
“When I give you the word to open fire, I want you to keep firing until I order you to stop or until the target is destroyed. “
“Understood, Sir!”
Shiloh monitored both the hit probability screen and the Tactical display screen. The bogey’s vector was up to 55 kps and still climbing. The range hadn’t dropped that much, but as the speed increased, the range would start dropping faster and faster. At least the message drone seemed to be undetected. Its speed was increasing quickly too. Another two and a half minutes and the message drone would reach the optimum speed for a least time jump to the star system where the support ships were waiting for the squadron to return. Shiloh wanted to wait as long as possible so that the hit probability would be as high as possible. On the other hand, the longer he waited, the greater the chance that the message drone would be detected. The 344 could make a microjump right now and get away from that alien ship, but then they would need to spend time accelerating fast enough to reach their departure system quickly. The message drone could get back faster and was therefore worth protecting. Since it was being constantly updated with data from the ship up to the point when it entered Jumpspace, the support ships would know what was happening. The hit probability indicator reached 90%. With two lasers firing, the odds of both missing were one chance in a hundred. The chances of both hitting on the first shot were slightly better than four out of five. Shiloh decided not to wait any longer.
“Helm, go to maximum acceleration now! Weapons ... open fire!”
“Opening fire now, Sir!” Almost immediately he continued, “Two hits! We got two hits! Lasers recharging. Ready to fire again in ... five ... four ... three ...”
Shiloh watched the Tactical display. The bogey had changed course. Its heading was swinging towards his ship. 344 hadn’t been hit by return fire yet. Shiloh assumed that the bogey had fired and missed, or else they couldn’t fire due to damage from 344’s initial shot. 344 fired again. It was time for his ship to change course.
“Helm, pull up 90 degrees! Go vertical then commence evasive action!”
The Helm’s response mingled with the Weapon’s officer’s reporting of two more hits. Still no hits from the enemy vessel. Shiloh didn’t think their luck would continue for much longer. He checked the status of the message drone. It was still accelerating and apparently undetected. He checked the range to the bogey again. Still dropping, and the rate of decline was increasing. 344 was pulling a higher acceleration than the bogey, but its initial velocity might as well have been zero for all the good it did them. The bogey had a lot more velocity to begin with, so even though 344 was gaining speed at a faster rate, the bogey was still moving faster due to its initial head start. The only thing that was working in their favor was the fact that by going vertical relative to the system’s plane, 344 was beginning a whole new vector. The bogey was moving fast ‘horizontally’ but not ‘vertically’. At some point the 3-dimensional geometry would start to work in their favor, and the range would start to widen again. A part of Shiloh’s mind took note of the fact that the bogey’s rate of acceleration was still 1.1 kps squared. 344 was piling on the velocity at almost twice that rate. One possible explanation for that discrepancy would be that their hull had a lot of armor on it. The extra mass would degrade acceleration performance. It would also explain why the four hits achieved thus far didn’t seem to have any effect on the alien vessel’s ability to maneuver. If that ship did have enough hull armor to reduce its maximum acceleration by half, then 344 was in big trouble.
Shiloh checked the relative positions and time to impact of the recon drones. The drone that would reach the target first was still a minute and a half away from contact. The good news was that by following the 344’s vertical course change, the bogey was no longer accelerating horizontally, and that meant that drone #3 had a viable intercept solution. A flashing red indicator on one of his screens caught Shiloh’s attention. The Sensor Tech confirmed it.
“We’ve got active scanning! The bogey’s gone to active scanning!”
That was both good and bad news for Shiloh’s ship. Active scanning meant that the bogey’s return fire was bound to be more accurate. The good news was that the active scanning itself gave away their position even more precisely than tracking it by reflected sunlight had done. There was no way that 344’s two lasers would miss now, and in fact they would be able to aim both lasers at exactly the same point, thereby doubling the energy trying to penetrate the hull at a specific spot. Shiloh turned his attention to trying to keep his ship from getting hit.
“Helm! Redline the engines and go to max evasion!”
Shiloh dimly heard the Helm Officer acknowledge his orders. 344 started to maneuver so violently that its crew began to feel it. Shiloh was glad he was strapped in. Just then the ship took its first hit. The extreme maneuvering saved the ship from taking the full brunt of the enemy laser. Instead, they got a glancing blow that cut through the ship’s minimal armor as if it wasn’t there and knocked out one of the maneuvering engine assemblies. 344’s acceleration dropped by eight per cent and the severity of the evasive maneuvers declined slightly, but that meant the chances of getting hit again had just increased.
“Two more hits!” shouted the Weapons Officer, his voice beginning to get hoarse. “We did it! We got through their hull! Reading atmosphere venting! Ready to fire again in three ... two ... one ... Firing! Two more hits! More hull penetration!”
The Tactical display showed the bogey’s acceleration dropping for the first time by almost 0.2 kps squared. Shiloh also noticed that 344 seemed to be firing more frequently than the alien ship. If their weapons were far more powerful, then it would take a lot more energy to recharge it after every shot. So it was a race to see if the strategy of multiple shots with less power could damage the alien vessel severely enough before their more powerful but less frequent return fire crippled his ship. To his surprise, another full minute went by without another hit from the enemy vessel. During that interval, 344’s lasers penetrated the alien hull three times, the results showing in reduced acceleration. Just as Shiloh started to hope that they might get through this with only minor damage, 344 took a direct hit. Both laser turrets were knocked out as the beam slashed along the ship’s spine. Multiple compartments experienced explosive decompression with instant death for the occupants. Collateral damage included the severing of key control linkages between the Bridge and the rear half of the ship, which meant they could no longer maneuver the ship from the Bridge. 344 continued to accelerate but now only in a straight line. This meant that the next enemy shot would hit her again for sure. Shiloh’s Command Station screens lit up like a Christmas tree with multiple red and yellow damage lights. He heard his Helm Officer call out.
“I’ve lost helm control! We can’t evade!”
The Com Officer said, “All com channels with the rear half of the ship have been cut!”
Shiloh had to find a way to get the ship maneuvering again. It was their only hope of evading another devastating blow. He thought fast.
He called out the Weapons Officer’s name, “Sykes! Get down to engineering and tell the XO to take over Helm functions from there. Tell her we need to start evading again, fast!”
To his credit, Sykes didn’t even waste time acknowledging the order. He was already on his way by the time Shiloh had finished speaking. Shiloh didn’t know how long it would take the alien vessel to recharge its weapon. Sykes would have to detour around damaged areas of the ship and might not get to Engineering fast enough, but he couldn’t think of anything else to try. Conning the ship from Engineering was their only hope. He checked the status of the drones again. The closest one was only seconds from ramming the enemy. Those few seconds seemed to take forever, but eventually they passed and the Sensor Tech gave an exultant cry.
“Direct hit! Major hull penetration! ... sensors picking up secondary explosions from inside the hull ... acceleration has dropped to zero! We plastered her good, by God!”
The whole Bridge erupted with shouts of joy. Shiloh grinned but said nothing. He understood their need to vent their feelings, but he felt it was premature to declare victory just yet. There was no way of knowing if that ship could still fire its weapon. With both ships apparently heavily damaged, the winner would be the one able to get in one final, good hit. He checked the drone status again. Drone #2 was about 34 seconds from impact. As the cheering died down, the Helm Officer shouted out.
“We’re evading again! Sykes must have gotten the word to the XO!”
That brought another round of cheering. Shiloh watched the seconds count down to the second drone intercept, desperately hoping that the alien ship wouldn’t fire for just a little bit longer. As the last few seconds fell away, he looked at the direct video view of the enemy ship. It was too far to see the ship itself, but the sudden burst of light in the distance at the moment of impact was all he needed, to know that drone #2 had hit the target dead on. Even the Sensor Tech’s report was more subdued than before.
“Drone #2 made a direct hit ... I’m reading major pieces of debris scattering in all directions ... energy emissions are now zero.” He looked over at his CO. “I think we’ve killed that ship, Skipper.”
Shiloh nodded. “Yes. I’m inclined to agree with you. We’ll let drone #3 impact the wreck, anyway. Helm? I want you to transfer to Engineering and take over helm functions from there. Tell the XO we can stop evading, and I want us on a course for a jump back to our departure system. Also tell her to send a complete damage report to the Bridge by runner if the com system isn’t repaired by then. Com! Any word on casualties yet?”
The responding voice was heavy with regret. “Preliminary reports say 13 dead and 8 more injured. Repair teams are working on the damage. No estimate yet of when we’ll get com links back up with the other half of the ship. There may be more casualties that haven’t been reported yet. I’ve asked Chief Watson to send a runner to check on casualties from the areas we can’t contact, Sir.”
“Good thinking. Send a signal to any of our ships you can reach, telling them that we appear to have won the battle and are leaving the system as soon as possible. Wish them luck.”
The Com tech acknowledged the order.
“I’ll address the crew now ... Intercom ... ship-wide.”
“Attention all hands. This is the CO. I know that only some of the crew can hear my voice, but I wanted you to know that even though we’ve taken damage and casualties, the alien vessel that we engaged appears to be in far worse shape and is currently drifting in space, apparently unable to maneuver or fight. We’re going to hit it one more time with a recon drone set to ram. I doubt there’ll be any survivors on that ship after that happens. We’re not going to stick around to find out. We’ve been ordered by the Squadron Leader to make sure that HQ knows what happened to the 319 and to us. We’re going home asap. First stop will be at our departure point where we’ll top up our fuel from the supply ships waiting there, and then we’ll resume our journey home. The rest of the Squadron will hopefully follow us by a few hours. I’m keeping the ship at General Quarters for now. As soon as we enter Jumpspace, we’ll stand down from General Quarters. You all deserve to pat yourselves on the back for your efforts in getting us through this. I’m proud of this ship and its crew. That’s all for now. End message.”
He settled back in his Command Chair and felt the adrenaline fatigue begin to hit. Even the impact of the final drone was anti-climactic. There was less visible light from impact #3 versus #2. When he asked the Sensor Tech if there were any signs of life on board the alien vessel, the answer was a definitive ‘No, Sir.’ The message drone entered Jumpspace a few seconds later. It would arrive near where the support ships should be and notify them that 344 was on its way back.
Just over 10 minutes later, the ship entered Jumpspace. With the com channel links restored to the rest of the ship, Shiloh ordered the crew to stand down from General Quarters. When the XO arrived back on the Bridge to finish what remained of her duty shift, Shiloh said, “Your duty shift will be over soon. I’ll cover the rest of your shift for you until Michaels takes over.”
The XO looked at him with sadness in her expression. “Commander Michaels was killed by that laser hit we took, Sir.”
Shiloh sighed and said nothing for a few seconds. Finally he spoke, “Michaels was a promising officer. The kind of officer I have a feeling we’re going to need very badly before this is all over. Okay, Angela. You take over now and cover the first half of Michaels duty shift. I’ll take the second half in addition to my own. By the time you relieve me again, we’ll have reassigned personnel to cover the gaps. Do you need a few minutes break before you take over here?”
She thought about it briefly before nodding.
“Then go ahead and take a break. Have a coffee and a bite to eat, and I’ll see you back here in a little while.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
She left, and Shiloh was alone with his thoughts. The more he thought about their close brush with death, the more worried he became. He doubted that this would be the last time Humanity encountered that alien race. He had a terrible feeling come over him that this had been just the opening skirmish of a much larger conflict, Humanity’s first interstellar war.
