Vaughn Heppner - The Lost Starship

“We did not,” Dana said. “That’s wishful thinking, something I thought you were above. I’ll have to reevaluate my opinion about you.”

Maddox snorted softly.

Dana turned away from the screen and faced him. “The truth is we barely managed to escape from one New Man and his assault-rifle ally.”

“That’s what I just said,” Maddox told her. “We beat them.”

“Beating them means we would have captured the invader for interrogation.”

“Wrong,” Maddox said. “He attempted to impose his will on us. We thwarted his will and imposed our own.”

“You mean your will, which was capturing me.”

“Freeing you,” Maddox said. “I freed you from captivity.”

“Mister,” Dana asked, “do you take me for an idiot?”

“The opposite,” Maddox said. “Your quick suppression of the space beacon proves we need you.”

“As I told you,” Dana said. “The auto-beacon and its program were old. Your pilot probably could have done it if he put his mind to it.” She yawned. “I’m exhausted. I’ve been working on this ever since we boarded. The stims I took are finally wearing off. I need sleep.”

Maddox took out his control unit out. “Very well. I’ll escort you to your quarters.”

Dana waited a half-beat before nodding. Then she headed for the hatch and Maddox followed.

He knew she plotted against them. It was obvious, and she was cunning, maybe more than he was. How could he convince her to join the mission? Without her knowledge and hacking skills, they were never going to gain entrance into the alien sentinel. There had to be a way to sway her, but he was at a loss as to what it might be.

Space battles within a star system’s vast expanse were often long-term affairs that went on for days instead of hours. AIs, computers and combat techs measured velocities, acceleration rates, beam ranges, cones of firing probabilities and braking speeds. The situation often became a chess game between professionals. Many times, the losing crew knew hours ahead of time that they were going to die as death remorselessly closed in on them.

As Captain Maddox, the lieutenant and the ensign watched from the control room—with the scout inching toward its Laumer-Point near the gas giant—they had a front row seat to the engagement between the monitor and the destroyer.

Archangel’s commander had put the satellite-beacons on high alert. The next step would be targeting the destroyer with the nearest drones. It seemed that Archangel’s commander would have to know without a doubt that the destroyer had turned rogue before actively trying to annihilate the vessel. That decision wouldn’t be made lightly.

Maddox dearly wanted to know what the monitor’s commander knew. He would have to break radio silence and come into the open to ask, though. It was very probable the monitor commander would not believe him. The greater mission was too important for Maddox to risk coming out of the dark.

“Why is the destroyer still heading for our jump-point near the gas giant?” Valerie asked. The lieutenant had taken a long-deserved nap and appeared refreshed. “The Saint Petersburg can’t use that wormhole.”

Maddox had been wondering the same thing. Given the monitor’s new actions, the destroyer should have already headed for a different Laumer-Point to attempt to escape the star system. He didn’t like the mystery.

“What do your sensors show?” Maddox asked.

“Nothing extraordinary,” Valerie said. “Ah. The monitor is sending a message to Saint Petersburg .”

“Isn’t there any way we can tap into it?” Keith asked. He’d napped too. It had made his eyes puffier and him crankier.

Neither Maddox nor Valerie answered the ensign.

“Well?” Keith asked. “Can’t we listen in?”

“Not unless we want to use active systems,” Maddox told him. “That would probably give us away. It’s better for us to remain hidden.”

“Jolly good,” Keith said shortly, in a grumpy voice. He stood. “I’m hungry. Anyone care to join me?”

Maddox’s stomach grumbled. He could use a break. Besides, a few minutes away couldn’t hurt. “Sure,” he said. “Let’s go.”

They exited the control room and moved down the corridor to the galley, a small area with a table and benches. Maddox picked a freeze-dried packet of tuna salad. Keith picked hamburger patties with broccoli.

They used a microwave to cook each. Halfway through the meal, Valerie spoke through the intercom.

“You ought to get back here, Captain. Things have just turned interesting.”

Grabbing the plastic, Maddox hurried to the control room, wolfing down the rest of the tuna salad as he went. He hadn’t realized until he started eating just how hungry he’d been.

As he entered the chamber, Valerie said, “ Archangel turned the satellite-beacons hot. Drones are coming alive out there. They’re easy to spot with their exhausts pouring behind them.”

Maddox shoveled the last bite into his mouth, tossing the plastic into a disposal unit. As he chewed, he sat down at his station.

“No!” Valerie said, watching her board. “I can’t believe this.”

“What’s happening?” Maddox asked.

“The destroyer—it has sent a message of its own to the space beacons near Archangel . It’s turned those drones against the monitor. Captain, it looks as if the New Men have hacked the system better than Dana could have done.”

Maddox went cold inside, and the tuna salad in his stomach felt as if it turned to lead. Here was another example of the enemy’s superiority.

They watched, and the minutes stretched into an hour, then three hours.

The various drones kept accelerating at their targets—it took time to move those distances. Space battles were long-term affairs. Many drones raced at Archangel , just as many sped at Saint Petersburg . Then drones began to detonate, even though they were far from their respective targets. Soon, everywhere throughout the Loki System, drone warheads bloomed into incandescent brilliance.

“What’s going on, love?” Keith asked Valerie.

“If I had to guess,” the lieutenant said, “both the monitor and the destroyer have sent self-destruct messages to the drones. They leveled the playing field. They also turned this place into a radioactive wasteland with EMP pulses everywhere.”

Maddox sat up. “That’s blinding sensors, yes?”

“Of course,” Valerie said. “It’s difficult to look through nuclear fireballs or the intense radiation they spew in all directions. It’s like throwing down a stellar blanket, at least until the radiation dies down.”

“Ensign,” Maddox said. “Get ready to engage the fusion thrusters.”

Valerie nodded sagely. “They’ve given us temporary cover,” she said. “For a little while at least, it will be hard to see much of anything. I like your idea, Captain.”

“Engage,” said Maddox.

Keith tapped the controls, and the Geronimo built up velocity.

Twenty-four hours later, the situation had drastically changed for the better for Geronimo .

“We’re getting out of here,” Maddox told Valerie and Keith.

He’d let Dana and Meta stew in their respective quarters. They called when they needed to use the facilities. Maddox always stood guard at those times. Sergeant Riker was still in medical. Dana had checked him three different times. Maddox had stood guard then, too.

“Like I told you,” Dana had said about Riker, “those Loki germs are tough. It was touch and go there for a while.”

“What?” Maddox asked. He hadn’t known that.