Jack Campbell - Imperfect Sword

“Engineering watch specialist!” Diaz said, his voice reverberating in the strange silence on the bridge. He lowered his voice before speaking again. “Get down to engineering and find out what’s going on. We need power back. We need everything back.”

Marphissa was gazing at where her display had been. Now, nothing but the blank, armored forward bulkhead of the bridge could be seen. The entire compartment felt strangely smaller with the equipment offline and life support not offering the constant, reassuring background noise of fans and ducts and circulating fluids. The bridge was buried deep in the ship, as safe as possible from enemy fire or other threats, which normally brought a sense of reassurance. At the moment, it was creating a feeling of literally being buried.

Senior Watch Specialist Czilla propped open a device pulled out of the emergency locker near his station. It lit, showing a series of readings. “We are still all right for oxygen and CO2 concentration, Kommodor. Estimated time to dangerous reduction in O2 and dangerous density of CO2 is twenty-five minutes.”

“We’ll hold off sealing our survival suits to conserve their life support for when we need it,” Marphissa said. “Damn! What is going on outside?”

“We’re still moving,” Diaz said. “We’ve stopped accelerating, but the Syndicate flotilla is still in a long stern chase. Those surviving Hunter-Killers with the battleship have been burning a lot of their fuel cells. Unless CEO Boucher provides new cells from the battleship’s stockpile, those Hunter-Killers will be in trouble before the Syndicate ships can catch us.”

“At the moment,” Marphissa grumbled in a very low voice, “I’m worried about our own people catching us. We had made it back up past point one five light speed when the power cut out, and now we’re racing outward at that velocity. If we get too far out before they can send someone to intercept us…”

“We could open some exterior fittings to vent atmosphere,” Diaz said. “Pivot the ship using that method, then figure out how to light off main propulsion without power—”

“That’s impossible. It would just blow up if the regulators didn’t have power.” Marphissa breathed a sigh of relief as the displays flickered to life again. “Progress. Maybe there is still hope.” She peered at the display, which continued to waver in intensity from bright to dim. “There’s nothing on it except a static view of what was last known. This is useless.”

“Kapitan?” someone called.

Diaz hit his comm controls. “Yes! Senior Specialist Sasaki?”

“Yes, Kapitan. The power core did an emergency shutdown. We’re not sure why, so we’ve isolated it and will do a restart.”

“I need comms and sensors back online fast!”

“I understand and will comply, Kapitan. Two minutes.”

But two minutes, then four minutes, then ten went past. Diaz’s attempts to call engineering again failed as the comm circuit went dead once more.

The engineering watch specialist dashed back onto the bridge, gasping for breath. “Kapitan, the power core—”

“I know,” Diaz growled.

“They are rewiring again, Kapitan. They found that just doing a restart would probably trigger another threatened overload and shutdown, so they’ve been pulling things out and redoing them.”

“Why did I lose comms with engineering?” Diaz demanded.

The woman looked off to one side, groping for words. “They… needed a certain black box… Junction Model 74A5F Mod 12… and the only one available was in the internal comms, so…”

“My ship is being torn apart from the inside out,” Diaz said. “Those senior specialists are doing as much damage to my ship as the Syndicate did!”

Marphissa nodded. “If we survive, Manticore is going to need some extensive internal repairs. And we’ll have to reward those senior specialists who are tearing your ship apart because otherwise we’d already be dead.”

The displays vanished again, then reappeared before anyone could even curse their disappearance. “Kommodor, we have updated external information! External comm links and sensors are active again,” Senior Watch Specialist Czilla reported.

Marphissa had been able to deaden her worries a bit when she literally could not see anything about events outside of Manticore , but now they sprang to full life again as Marphissa bent close to study her display.

The Syndicate flotilla was still in pursuit, still slowly closing the gap to Manticore , but the battleship now was accompanied by only the single heavy cruiser and three surviving Hunter-Killers. Kontos and Seney must have hit CEO Boucher’s formation again. Both the Pele formation and the one now centered on Kraken were coming around for two more attacks.

“Look at that!” Diaz said in amazement. “ Midway ! The battleship, I mean.”

Marphissa tore her attention away from the nearest ships, trying to figure out what Diaz was talking about. Then she saw it. The battleship Midway , light-hours away, had come around, accelerating at full capacity on a route that would place her between the Syndicate formation and the hypernet gate. “What is Kapitan Mercia doing? She’s revealed for everyone to see that the Midway actually has full propulsion capability!”

Bradamont was staring, too, but suddenly gave out a burst of laughter. “She’s a genius!”

“A genius? Mercia just let the Syndicate flotilla know—”

“That’s why it’s genius,” Bradamont exulted, seeing the looks of incomprehension on the faces of both Diaz and Marphissa. “Don’t you see? Midway appeared to have severely damaged main propulsion. But now she has revealed that her main propulsion is fully functional. Midway also looks to have only a few weapons operational.”

Marphissa suddenly understood. “But now the Syndicate flotilla will think that is also a ruse? They will think maybe Midway is fully combat capable? And rushing to join the fight as soon as she saw an opening?”

“Yes! Rushing to block the retreat of the Syndicate formation so it can’t escape. It’s a deception inside a deception, using one deception to make outside observers believe that the real things they are seeing are also a deception.”

“What will CEO Boucher do?” Marphissa wondered.

A few minutes later, the answer became clear as the Syndicate flotilla veered down and thirty degrees to port. “They’re heading for the jump point for Kane,” Diaz said. “Why? Midway won’t be in position to block them from reaching the hypernet gate for nearly nine hours.”

“Boucher is panicking,” Marphissa said, hearing the satisfaction in her voice. “Nothing has gone right for her, she’s getting hit again and again, nearly all of her escorts have been destroyed, and now her battleship is threatened. She’s bolting along the nearest path to safety.”

Bradamont nodded. “I think you’re right. And it appears that CEO Boyens was accurate in saying that Boucher would have orders not to bombard this star system. Otherwise, she would probably be launching a vindictive bombardment right now. The Syndicate Worlds does want this star system back intact.”

“They won’t get it, intact or otherwise,” Marphissa vowed.

The life-support fans came back to life.

“Damn,” Diaz said, looking around as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing. “We won. And we’re still alive.”

“Yes,” Marphissa agreed. “Now get back down to engineering and make sure your senior specialists in their enthusiasm to conduct quick repairs don’t blow us up now that the battle is won.”

It had been nerve-wracking watching the battle play out, light-hours distant, unable to intervene and knowing that whatever she saw had long since happened. President Iceni poured out two drinks and offered one to General Drakon. They were alone in her office. “We should drink a toast to another victory over the Syndicate, General.”