“Indication of airlock seven access,” Oaks reported.
Thomas loomed behind her, aware of the slight tremble in her voice. It was the only sound through the silent DCC as all operators watched their consoles, waiting. All ventilation was shut down to protect against breach. All chatter on the nets had ceased. Throughout the ship, he knew, his crew waited in silence.
The enemy had arrived. On the main damage control display he watched as the indicator for airlock seven switched to red as the rebels forced their way through the hull. Moments later, three other airlocks revealed compromise.
“ASW,” Chen said into his commlink, addressing John back in the hangar, “airlock incursions at positions three, four, seven, and eight.”
“Roger,” John replied on the speaker, “starboard hangar airlock is decompressing, Spinner-Three will be ready to deploy in ten seconds.”
Spinner-Two was already primed for launch in the port hangar airlock. Micah had taken station in the damaged Spinner-One, which remained in the hangar to relay instructions on the anti-stealth warfare comms.
“Indication of enemy movement at airlock seven,” Hayley reported.
“Let them get on board,” Thomas cautioned. “Let all four teams get on board.” Hayley relayed his instructions over the DC net. “Do all four rebel ships appear to have solid clamps engaged?”
Chief Ranson nodded, pointing at detailed readings next to the airlock indicators.
“Yes, sir,” he said. “They’ve matched atmo and are holding the doors open.”
“ASW”—Thomas turned to Chen—“launch the Hawks.” Red lights on the main display indicated both hangar airlocks opening. Thomas waited. The lack of direct combat information was maddening, but he trusted his crew. The strained silence dragged out, all eyes and ears waiting for some signal of the Hawks’ success.
“Fire at airlock eight!” Hayley reported.
“Spinner-Two reports destruction of rebel ship at airlock eight,” Chen echoed.
Thomas frowned. The explosion had sucked in all the air through the open airlock, causing a fireball inside Bowen. That was certainly one way to take out the attackers.
“Status of our team at airlock eight,” he demanded.
“No response,” Hayley replied. He could hear the distant chatter of weapons fire, impacts vibrating through the hull as his troopers engaged the rebels. But the Hawks were loose and soon there would be more airlock explosions.
“All units pull back one airtight frame from the entry points.”
Hayley relayed the order, and he saw clusters of lights quickly change as his teams opened airtight doors and withdrew. The rebels followed, and he heard more weapons fire. Red warning lights flashed to life at airlock seven.
“Fire at airlock seven,” Hayley said.
“Status of our troops there?”
“They’d withdrawn…” She paused, listening on the net. “Engaging hostiles.”
Thomas shifted in his stance, hating the fact that his troopers were facing the enemy without him. There was still no word from the team at airlock eight—they had to be presumed dead. He studied the display for indication of movement.
A hatch opened on deck five, not far from airlock eight. Someone was moving down to deck four. Moments later, another hatch opened, toward deck three.
“We have movement on deck three at frame ninety-eight,” he said to Hayley. “Have Bravo-Two and her team move to intercept.”
His orders were passed, but moments later she looked up at him.
“Bravo-Two reports a… a milly? She’s pinned down and can’t move until the forward threat is neutralized. She wants a team to flank them to port.”
Thomas kept his face neutral, but barely. There was a milly loose in his ship. A battle robot like that could wreak havoc in tight quarters—but at least it had made the mistake of picking a fight with Buns.
“No can,” Thomas replied. “All troops are engaged. Tell her to hold position and keep that damn thing contained. Don’t let it get into the venting.”
“What about frame ninety-eight,” Chen asked at his side. “It might be survivors from airlock eight.”
“But ours or theirs?” Thomas countered. He studied the display for another moment. The unknown movement wasn’t far from DCC itself. He was loath to send any of his armed crewmen from the hangar to investigate—they were untrained, unarmored and carrying only pistols.
Looking down at his own armored suit, he realized there was only one person who could investigate.
“I’ll check out frame ninety-eight,” he said, hefting his assault rifle and flicking off the safety. Before anyone could respond, however, John’s voice sounded over the speaker.
“DCC, this is ASW—new contact poss-high shadow bearing two-zero-zero mark one-niner-zero!”
Thomas froze. An enemy stealth ship had been detected—no doubt the same one which had singularized Bowen’s bridge. No matter how cleverly he fought his battle against the rebel small craft and their boarding parties, that stealth ship could singularize Bowen itself in a heartbeat. He had no doubt that it would, if the attempt to capture the cruiser seemed to be going poorly.
“Break engage target at airlock three,” he ordered. “Spinner-Two take hostile shadow.”
Chen repeated the order, then looked up at Thomas again.
“Sir, what about frame ninety-eight?”
Leaving his position of command during a stealth attack cried out against every instinct Thomas had, but there was an unknown strike threat inside his ship, and the only available asset was himself.
A door on deck three—only two frames forward—indicated open, he noted. There was no more time to consider.
“I’ll investigate,” he said. “Sublieutenant Wi, you have control of the ship. Give ASW weapons free on all hostile contacts. Maneuver as required to defend against ASW attack.”
“Yes, sir,” Chen responded. As he turned to leave, Thomas heard Chief Ranson reminding Chen that they still had full maneuvering control, directly through the engine room, and that all ASW battle stations were manned.
Leaving DCC, Thomas shut out all other thoughts. There was a potential threat forward, or it might be friendly survivors, and he needed to be a trooper—nothing more. Slapping down his faceplate, he bounded forward in the deserted passageway, rifle up, passing through one frame and approaching the next airtight boundary. There was no cover against the straight bulkheads—nothing to protect him against enemy fire.
The door up ahead cracked open, then slid aside.
A large figure in a gray spacesuit jumped forward, raising a compact, two-handed launcher. Thomas aimed for the armored plate in the center of the suit’s chest and fired a single round. The rebel staggered, clutching at his chest. The launcher sagged downward and fired. A slug smashed down into the deck. Thick smoke billowed forth and visibility dropped to zero.
Thomas gasped as bullets pinged off his suit. He fired a single shot again, then remembered that he was loaded with impact-only rounds. He switched to automatic and sprayed into the thickening smoke. Stepping into the swirling gray cloud he scanned for movement. Spotting a dead combatant, he noted that the enemy suits looked soft. With the flick of a thumb he snapped out the bayonet under his rifle’s barrel.
Movement to the left. He swung even as bullets pounded against him. His rifle slammed against something that grunted, but his own shots went wide. The smoke cloud rang as the bullets punched into the bulkhead.
Weight crashed down on his shoulder from behind and he staggered. A gray-suited hand reached to grab into his faceplate, blocking his view. Another hand wrenched at his rifle. Thomas threw himself backward, toppling with the massive weight of the attacker on his back. Together they crashed down to the deck. Thomas felt the sickening squish as the full mass of his armored suit flattened his attacker. The hands grabbing at him went limp and fell away.
Still on his back he fired another spray of bullets upward into the smoke. A responding flash indicated the location of his foe even as his suit’s status lights glowed yellow in his peripheral. He fired at the flash and scrambled to a crouch. Shots cracked past him. He activated quantum-flux and quickly scanned right to left. Two more figures lurked behind the shroud of smoke, barely an arm’s length away, both crouched and seemingly blind. He couldn’t take both of them without being shot again, and a quick glance at his suit’s status indicated multiple punctures already.
He wouldn’t survive another barrage of hits at this range.
Stabbing outward at the nearest target, he pushed the bayonet at the shape of the suit’s throat, into the tough outer material between faceplate and chest armor. The blade sliced through until it hit bone. With a twist Thomas tore the wound open and wrenched back.
The attack was silent, and the second enemy figure remained unaware. Thomas leaned back in his crouch and lined up the quantum-flux image in his sights. He fired a short burst and the target slumped back.
Scanning again with quantum-flux, he then shifted to the longer-range infra-red. Five bodies were scattered on both sides of the airtight opening. No movement.
Then he noticed a deep rumble coming from the deck itself and up through his suit, followed by the tell-tale sway of the artificial gravity fighting against the vectors of heavy maneuvering. Bowen was at speed and turning sharply, which could only mean one thing—stealth attack. He rose to his feet and stepped back through the door, breaking into a run as soon as the smoke began to clear.
He’d barely made it ten steps when darkness swallowed the entire passageway and he felt himself falling forward in a sudden gravity well. The deck slammed into him and he slid along the smooth surface. Ignoring the warning lights of his suit, he hung onto his weapon and braced as the twisted gravity pulled him to rest against the next hatch combing.
Slowly, slowly, gravity returned to normal.
Emergency lights flickered on. Thomas picked himself up heavily and pushed open the airtight door. His armor felt heavy as he walked, the servos on his left side wheezing in emergency mode. The computer would reallocate nanoparts and energy to keep him moving for a while longer, but his suit was effectively cannibalizing itself to obey his commands.
DCC was a shambles of broken displays and injured bodies, but some of the systems were still working. Snapping open his faceplate, he stumbled up to where Chen, Hayley, and Ranson huddled around a desk display. Smoke burned at his eyes as he surveyed their pale faces.
“Close ground threat neutralized,” he stated with forced calm. “Damage control status?”
Neither subbie was able to speak. Chen stared at the damage to the armored suit. Hayley gripped her headset against the blood-soaked bandage on her head.
“Damage control system is stable,” Ranson growled. “We evaded the torpedo attack, but the near miss took out primary electrical.”
“Boarding status?”
“All threats dead or retreated,” Hayley said without looking up.
“The forward groups pulled back to airlock three and the rebel ship broke away. Spinner-Three was destroyed during the attack.”
“ASW status?”
“Unknown,” Chen said.
“Explain.”
“The singularity wave tore us up back here. It rolled the Hawk in the hangar. All connections to ASW were cut. More than thirty casualties back aft.” Chen pointed down at the panel, which displayed the overall ship status. “We’ve gone to best possible speed and we’re running for the jump gate. If we can stay ahead of the stealth far enough, it won’t be able to take another shot.”
“Very good,” Thomas nodded. ASW was a world of very slow speeds, but in extreme cases there was nothing wrong with high-tailing it away from a threat. Bowen’s gravimetric signature at high speed would be the size of an asteroid, but nobody was trying to hide now. Their best hope was to outrun the stealth.
“What about Spinner-Two?”
Chen glanced at Hayley before responding.
“Unknown. Last comms we heard was the torpedo flash transmit—we’ve been blind and deaf pretty much since then.”
“Oaks, get down to the tail compartment and report those sensor readings directly up to DCC.”
She struggled out of her seat and headed for the door. He hated to send her in that condition, but her line officer eyes would be able to interpret the raw data from the tail sensors, at least enough to give him some idea of what was going on out there.
Thomas glanced around, frustrated at the lack of a tactical display. If Spinner-Two was still out there, he’d be doing something useful. Thomas just needed to figure out what, and then see if he could help. But anti-stealth warfare was impossible without a way to assess relative positions. Then he spotted a blank sketch board lying on a dead terminal.
“Chen, do you remember the last reported ASW positions?”
“Yes, sort of.”
Thomas grabbed the sketch board and a light pen.
“Draw it for me.”
Chen took the pen and, after a moment’s thought, began sketching symbols on the board. Manual combat plotting was a useful tool for teaching new operators the principles of tactical positioning, but it was never used when real combat systems were available. It had been nearly twenty years since Thomas had used the technique himself, but young Chen was fresh out of training.
Thomas studied the rough diagram, which placed Bowen in the center and showed the relative positions of Spinner-Two, the enemy stealth, and the lone remaining rebel ship. Chen drew in the vectors of each, as they’d been before he sent Bowen to full speed.
“This will have changed now,” Chen said, “based on our new velocity.”
“Okay,” Thomas prompted, “so draw in new vectors for us and see where it places the stealth.”
Chen did so, then connected the vectors into a relative motion triangle.
“Chief,” Thomas said, looking up at Ranson, “come hard left ninety degrees and then stop the engines.”
Ranson barked orders and Thomas felt the AG field shudder as it compensated through the high-speed turn.
“We’re turning to fight?” Chen asked.
“I need us to stop accelerating so that we can get a clear picture again, and I want full bearing spread for the tail.” He handed Chen his headset. “Get linked up with Oaks and put this on speaker.”
Thomas checked the time, waiting as a single, agonizing minute passed. Then he queried Hayley down in the tail compartment. She reported up a series of possible bearings and Chen plotted them on his board. Most likely the stealth was at speed, trying to keep pace with Bowen, and hadn’t realized yet that her target had slowed. The cross-section of bearings from the tail wasn’t enough to give him an accurate range to target, but sometimes bearing was enough. This was a very long-distance shot, and it would re-expose Bowen’s position, but Thomas could visualize his assets in the four-dimensional game of chess, and he saw an opportunity.
“Port torpedo tubes,” he ordered via Chen, “down a relative bearing of two-six-eight mark two-eight-zero, salvo size three, set peets one, four, and seven—fire.”
A trio of thuds echoed through the silent hull as his orders were carried out. In his mind he envisaged the three weapons vanishing into the Bulk, each one headed to a different level of peets. He didn’t know how far into the Bulk the stealth was hiding, but he knew it wouldn’t be too far in if it was hunting Bowen here on the brane.
“Three torpedoes, sir?” Chen asked.
“This is called ‘firing a spread,’ Mr. Wi. All three weapons will go active, and one of them will find our target.”
“New transient down target bearing,” Hayley reported over the speaker, “three peets in.”
The stealth was maneuvering to evade the attacks. Bowen’s torpedoes had gone active and the stealth had plenty of time to launch countermeasures and evade. But Thomas never expected his own weapons to score the kill.
“Second transient,” Oaks shouted, “new torpedo closing on target!”
Chen stared up at Thomas, confusion in his eyes. Thomas pointed at the symbols on the board.
“All I had to do was flush the stealth out. Spinner-Two will do the rest.”
“DCC,” John’s voice crackled on a different speaker, “this is ASW. We just got comms with Spinner-Two. Assess shadow zero-one destroyed!”
It was done.
There was no spontaneous cheer in DCC, no sudden hugs or handshakes. Thomas glanced around at the drawn, pale faces at the consoles. He saw the wounded braced against the deck, and the shattered equipment. His ship and crew were still alive, but not by much.
“Roger, ASW. Bravo-zulu to Spinner-Two. Recover the Hawk and secure for jump as best you can.” He turned to Chen. “Plot a course for the jump gate. We’re heading home.”