Vaughn Heppner - The Lost Starship

Compared to how far they had to travel to reach this place, the last lap was gallingly short. The comet’s mass was both their bane and their approaching salvation.

Maddox paced inside his quarters. His stomach fluttered with anticipation. He had three distinct fears. First, he dreaded the possibility of the Saint Petersburg catching them before they reached the unstable Laumer-Point. If the destroyer reached them too soon, the twin laser batteries could possibly dig through the ice-shield to bite into the Geronimo . Second, while buried under millions of tons of ice and snow, could the scout’s Laumer Drive open the wormhole entrance? Supposing it could, would the voyage down the unstable tramline annihilate them with random flux instability? Third, could they survive the red star on the other side?

That was the reason for the ice-shield. According to the professor, the unstable tramline was the only way into or out-of the haunted star system. The extinct race must have possessed incredible deflector shields or maybe they used millions of tons of rock as protection. The alien system had a red giant for a star. Once, it must have been a regular G glass star like Sol. Now, it was an M class star.

The star had used up the hydrogen fuel in the core, so the thermonuclear reactions had ceased there. That had begun a long process. From a 1-solar mass star, it had become a red giant with 1000 solar luminosities with a surface temperature about 3000 K and 100 solar radii. The Sun at this stage would engulf Mercury in its photosphere, or outer layer.

The red giant in the alien star system had grown over the only known Laumer-Point. That meant, once a starship exited the tramline, it would be in the star’s photosphere. If the Geronimo exited normally, the star would crisp it in seconds.

The plan called for the comet taking the star’s blasts. At their speed—if the calculations were correct—they would only be in the photosphere for a brief amount of time. Still, even for many hundreds of thousands of kilometers beyond the star, they would need the comet to absorb the hellish heat and radiation.

Maddox paced in one direction, turned sharply and paced in the other. If even one of the three fears came true, the mission would fail. They would be dead, and humanity would never gain its balancing starship.

He snorted to himself. Even if they beat all three worries, they still had to deal with the killer sentinel. They had to find a way aboard—and then they had to figure out how to make the ancient starship work for them.

Maddox shook his head. If they passed all those tests, could they take the alien vessel out of the star system into the wide universe?

The Geronimo had almost reached the goal, yet the imponderables seemed to expand before him.

Although he hated to admit it, Maddox realized he’d just have to wait for the answer.

I’m unsuited for starship command. The need to do, to act, is too strong in me. The waiting game and dispassionately playing each move—I want to get this over with one way or another .

Time crawled as the comet-vessel headed for the unstable Laumer-Point. The engines thrust, and hourly Maddox expected one of them to give out.

Behind them, the Saint Petersburg came at maximum drive, building greater velocity with each second. It launched two missiles, which accelerated even faster.

“Those are going to hit, sir,” Valerie told Maddox in the control chamber.

Maddox stared at her screen. They had expected the move. At his orders, they had previously dismantled the scout’s two cannons, freezing them and their autoloaders on the back of the comet.

“When the time comes,” Maddox said, “Ensign Maker will have to shoot down the missiles.”

Valerie gave him an unreadable look.

More time passed. The destroyer rapidly closed the distance. The two missiles zoomed toward destiny.

Finally, Maddox ordered Keith to his station.

The ace flexed his fingers. “I have this,” he told them. “They’re coming so fast there’s no way they can maneuver out of the way of my shells.”

With the primitive targeting system they’d frozen into the comet, Ensign Maker selected the lead missile. He began long-distance firing.

At thirty thousand kilometers from the comet, he struck the hardened nosecone. It should have shredded the warhead, but the thing held together. At twenty-one thousand kilometers, Keith nailed it again. The missile and its warhead died.

“I told you!” Keith shouted.

The last missile bored in. It had better ECM, and Keith failed to lock onto it. The shells sped past it as the missile kept coming.

“Blimey cocker,” Keith hissed under his breath. “I ain’t missing this close.”

Before he could hit it, at nine thousand kilometers from target, the warhead ignited. The EMP blast and heat did its trick. All but one comet-frozen engine malfunctioned and kept spewing exhaust.

“Shutdown the last engine,” Maddox said. “We don’t want to skew our entrance trajectory.”

The comet no longer accelerated, but drifted at its present velocity for the approaching Laumer-Point. Behind them, crossing the plane of the brown dwarf, Saint Petersburg made its last run. The destroyer traveled at high velocity. It would reach the Laumer-Point at almost the same instant as the comet.

“Sir,” Valerie said. “We’re being hailed.”

Maddox massaged his chest, taking his seat. He debated with himself for all of three seconds. Decision made, he clicked on the comm equipment, letting his features appear to the other side. What did it matter now?

His screen showed the inflexible face of a New Man. The eyes were like swirling black ink, the skin like golden ivory. Gigantic haughtiness faced him.

“I know you,” Maddox said, thinking to recognize the face. He’d had a momentary glimpse on the prison planet’s surface and would never forget the man.

Despite the words, the enemy’s masklike features never changed.

“I beat you on Loki Prime,” Maddox said. “I shot you to the ground and took your weapon. I’ve kept it as a memento in my trophy case.”

“You have failed,” the New Man said.

The deep voice shocked Maddox. It was so utterly controlled and confident. He envied the New Man that.

The other cocked his head and seemed to peer through the screen with greater interest. “I detect an anomaly. You are not like them.”

“What’s he mean?” Keith whispered.

Lieutenant Noonan shushed the pilot, tapping her index finger against her lips.

Maddox sat frozen in his chair. He yearned for the New Man to elaborate. Was he a failed experiment? Had they used his mother as a breeder, putting their exalted seed into her womb?

Am I like them? Maddox wondered.

“Surrender,” the New Man said. “There is no need for you to die.”

“Why would you care?” Maddox asked.

“You have information I would like to confirm.”

Maddox mulled that over. The New Man hadn’t said, “You have information I need.” Instead, the haughty New Man wished to confirm a thing.

“What’s your name?” Maddox asked.

The New Man frowned. “You young presumptuous pup of the Star Watch, you have insulted me for the last time.”

“What insult? I just asked you your name.”

The New Man stiffened before he said, “Know that your mission will die with you, Captain Maddox.”

Maddox’s eyes widened with surprise.

“We always know more about our targets than we need to understand. Thus, I know you and your inefficient crew.” The New Man leaned closer. The black eyes seemed to burn with passion. “You were always doomed to fail, Captain. It was inevitable. We have arrived to halt the madness of your species’ chaotic inconsistencies. You should surrender to us as gods coming in judgment. Homo Sapiens’ era of rutting and ugliness will finally cease.”