Alien Shore Chapter Six
GRID Traveler Trinity: Alien Shores
Author: J Carrell Jones
Table of Content
Chapter 6
A hundred shall serve - the best of the brave, and the chief of a thousand shall kneel as thy slave, and thou shalt reign queen, and thy empire shall last Till the black flag by inches, is torn from the mast. So wake, lady wake, I am waiting for thee, oh, this night or never my bride thou shalt be, so wake, lady wake, I am waiting for thee, oh, this night or never my bride thou shalt be.
- (A pirate Song, circa. unknown)
- (A pirate Song, circa. unknown)
Chapter 6
Sean hunted Loggar and the rest down. He asked Loggar to pick one person essential from the six. She picked Maria. When Sean and Maria got to the shuttle he stopped dead in his tracks. It was grossly overfilled. “Um, Kathy, you really need all this stuff?”
She nodded, “You only gave us an hour!”
“Okay. Pile in.” Sean hoped the shuttle could lift. With the eight of them and a silly amount of books, equipment, boxes and stuff he wondered. He juiced the engines to one zero five percent. The shuttle rose slowly. They needed escape velocity. He pushed the engines to one two zero percent and prayed. The shuttle increased speed and zipped toward the upper atmosphere. He tapped on the shuttle CRT.
“Johnson, we are coming in.”
The shuttle vibrated from over taxing the engines. Sean punched them out of the atmosphere at the shuttle’s top speed. He knew the inertia was going to be the make or break of them.
Quock sat co-pilot. She tapped out a few commands on the shuttle’s CRT. “Captain, Webster scanned us.”
Sean nodded. He tapped on the Comm. keypad. “Johnson, we need some company.” He left the comm. channel open.
Molino came through on the speakers. “Captain, enroute now. ETA ten minutes.”
“Captain!” Quock called out. “Webster is ETA ten minutes. Detecting fighters. ETA six minutes.”
“Molino,” Sean said, “did you hear that?”
“Roger that, shuttle. Picking up the pace. Running engines hot.”
Molino left the comm. channel open. He thumbed the fighter-to-fighter channel on. “Wing Group. We got the Captain to save. Run engines hot – one three zero percent. Repeat. Run engines hot. I want a defensive 3d ring around that shuttle. Viper, Puma and Snail – run back guard. The rest will form the ring. Ice maiden, and myself will run loose cannon. Execute.”
Johnson’s Fighter Wing Group leapt forward. In the distance the Webster was dead reckoning toward the shuttle. A half dozen fighter crafts were half way between the Webster and the tiny shuttle.
Behind the Wing Group Johnson was coming up fast.
Quock said, “Captain, ship-to-ship message. Coming from the lead fighter.”
Sean pushed the shuttle engines to one four zero percent. He knew at this rate the main coils and circuitry would burn out in minutes. He sighed. “Put it on the speakers.”
Quock tapped on her CRT.
“Shuttlecraft, this is the Webster’s Fighter Wing Group. Advise you shut engines down and allow to be towed in. Under the GC Rules of engagement, and by Order of Captain Robin Spaarin, you are ordered to hand over materials from Necron.”
Sean tapped the Comm. Reply on the CRT. “This is Captain Sean Blakemore, of the Reginald L. Johnson; said material is enroute to Earth via the Johnson. I order you to stand down. Return to Webster and I’ll forget about you and your captain threatening a senior officer.” Sean knew what the answer would be.
The reply came back definite, no leeway. “Begging pardon, Captain Blakemore, we cannot stand down. Shut down the engines or we will shut them down, by order . . .”
Sean clicked him off. “Johnson, what is your ETA?”
Dawn replied, “Five minutes, shuttle. Opening landing bays to receive you hot. Relative-speed is going to be light two.”
‘Good Goddess!’ Collins thought. Johnson was going to try and capture us head on. She looked over to Loggar, who must have seen the reaction on her face, because she looked worried.
“Dr. Collins, what’s going to happen, exactly?”
Collins cleared her throat and tried to speak in an even tone. “The Johnson has special equipment that can capture and slow down a runaway craft. It should be okay; the Captain is an excellent pilot. And we’ve done this many times.” She neglected to tell Loggar that all the captures happened at less than light one.
Loggar remembered Sean liked Han. He sure did have his piloting skills. That thought made her feel a little better.
Johnson’s Wing Group was seconds from the shuttle. Molino thumbed his comm. channel to broadcast ship-to-ship wide spectrum. The Johnson, the shuttle, the Webster’s Wing Group and the Webster would hear the broadcast. “Webster’s Wing Group, this is Lieutenant Commander Molino Chief Pilot, please stand down. The shuttle is coming aboard the Johnson. Nothing is going to prevent that. Am I understood?”
A few seconds later. “Your position is understood. I am asking you to reconsider. My orders are clear. All materials must be taken aboard the Webster.”
Johnson’s Wing Group reached the shuttle and took up defensive position. Molino tracked the shuttle’s heat signature. He knew the Captain pushed the engines to redline. He thumbed the comm. channel. “Element and Perfect, shuttle’s engines are about to fail. Tracker beam to capture.” He thumbed the comm. channel again. “Wing Group, brace for enemy contact. Engagement in imminent, repeat, engagement is imminent. Make the Johnson proud.” Molino had the comm. channel to wide spectrum.
Robin sat still as she saw the tiny shuttle grow larger. Her fighters fell in behind the Johnson’s Wing Group. She clicked on the channel to the Webster’s fighters. “Engage the enemy. Engage the enemy.” She clicked off
Dawn followed the exchange between the two fighter groups. Then she heard, “Engagement is imminent, repeat, engagement is imminent.” She tapped comm. to landing bay control. “Bay Control. Are you ready? Shuttle and two fighters are coming in hot.”
A voice in the distance said, “Yes, Bay Control ready.”
She tapped ship wide broadcast. “All hands, all hands, Capture maneuver in progress. Damage Control take your position. All guns prepare for enemy contact. Enemy contact. This is not a drill. Repeat this is not a drill. Engagement is imminent.”
Sean saw two fighters pull ahead and in front of the shuttle. He saw the pale blue-white light from their tracker beams touch the shuttle nose. He smelled the shuttle engine coils burn out before he heard the “Slam! Boom!” The engines died. Everyone was pushed back hard in their chairs as the two fighter ships controlled the shuttle now. He tapped on the ship-to-ship comm. channel. He recognized the call sign markings on both fighters. “Element, Perfect. Thanks for the tow.”
A female voice came back. “No problem, Captain. We just wanted to see if towing a shuttle in for capture maneuver was as easy as the text book said.”
A male voice came through, “Not like it’s gonna be hard or anything . . . This is your pilot speaking, ETA in ten seconds. Please sit back and admire the ridiculously fast streaking stars to either side. In the event of an emergency . . .”
If the Universe had been able to compose music for events pivotal in nature then this would be a moment. Johnson’s remaining Wing Group dropped behind the Webster’s fighters. It was a split second and a push of the button. They flared their forward retros and flashed behind the surprised fighter group. Molino and his team engaged the enemy. By any standards of a battle, gunfight, fist-i-cuffs, dirty bar room brawling, whatever, the one that strikes first and hardest with the most deadly intent comes out victorious. It took seconds. Like two seasoned samurai warriors squared off from a long stance, it took a moment of blazing flash, cross and slashes of swords for one to remain standing. Within seconds the Webster’s main Wing Group had been reduced to none.
Robin saw two things happen. The shuttle, in tow by two fighters, entered Johnson’s mid-body landing bay at a speed that would produce no survivors. The second was that the Webster’s Wing Group was gone. Winked out in so much of a flash and pop that it left her and the entire Command deck silent. For nearly five seconds no one moved. Then a proximity alert sounded. A computer voice in the background said, “Collision alert. Collision alert.” Robin blinked several times and snapped. “Hard to starboard!” The view screen banked sharply and the Johnson’s Port Engine cluster shields sparkled static light in all directions as it slid across Webster’s port side shields. The display was like a symphony of dazzling and shimmering webs and fingers of colored lights arcing out into open space. Both the Johnson and the Webster lost some momentum as the energy from both ships bleed out into the ether.
The last thing Sean remembered was, “In the event of an emergency . . .” He felt a pressure on his head from all sides. His vision tunneled into a narrow point of light and it felt as if his heart stopped. He couldn’t breathe and he heard this deep tune in both ears. The shuttle passed through the stasis field, the first field of a hundred that was used to stop runaway crafts. The Johnson used this maneuver dozens of times and everyone walked anyway fit. This was the first time it was used in terrifying speeds passed light one, but lately things seemed to be a first anyway. Everything seemed to have stopped, indeed it had. The stasis field placed all atoms in an almost zero state of motion. The ninety-nine other fields were used to siphon off the inertia and potential kinetic energy from forward velocity. All crafts made a complete stop by the last five fields. The pressure from Sean’s head lifted, his vision returned and he could breathe again. He heard over wide broadcast that the ‘shuttle was safe in Landing Bay and that Wing Group was approaching Starboard Side Bay opening. All hands prepare for hot approach.’ Sean surveyed the compartment. He mostly saw scared faces from his passengers. “Everyone okay?”
He got hesitant nods, but concluded everyone was all right. He walked over to the side door and keyed in the open code. Seals released and the door whooshed out and up.
One of the Landing Bay’s Ensigns approached. Deck apes as they were called. “Captain, everything okay?”
Sean replied, “Yes, Ensign thanks. Please take our passengers and secure them in Quarters on deck two. Make it one of the community rooms. Get someone to secure the equipment. We’ll sort out who sleeps where later.”
The Ensign saluted, stepped into the shuttle. “Please follow me. Your belongings will be safe. I will escort you to temporary quarters.
Once the situation is over we will place you in appropriate locations. Please follow me.”
Sean said, “Quock, Collins, you have duties to perform.”
They nodded and left.
“Kathy, accompany me to the bridge.” He reached out a hand.
Loggar grabbed it. And followed Sean through the beehive of activity. He saw Element and Perfect, Lieutenant Dallas and Lieutenant Fifth, step out of their fighters. He approached. They both snapped to attention.
“As you were.” Sean said. “After all this is over, Wing Group is getting shore leave of choice.” He walked away with Loggar in tow. He headed into a lift. The door hissed closed. “Top Deck.” He said and then, “Stop lift.”
He crushed Loggar into his chest and passionately kissed her. He whispered into her ears after the kiss broke. “Goddess, how I missed you.”
She blushed and whispered, “My warrior, how I missed you.”
Sean smiled, “Resume.”
When Loggar first met Sean, he was a lonely man. He was vulnerable and she played on this. Admittedly, she took advantage of his weakened state and used it to manipulate him into becoming a Most High follower. But while on Necron he showed her that he was a very strong individual. He easily made others like him; he had a presence that one felt comfortable with. He said little but did a lot. He led by example.
In the Most High she never really experienced someone that was a true leader. Most in the High Council were handed the titles by way of political maneuvering – usually short of bribery. Sean was a Hero, a leader and he had integrity. And today, she witnessed individuals willing to die for him. They placed their very existence ahead of his. There was something to be said for the military, a lot really, but today she decided it was ‘bravery,’ ‘courage,’ and ‘duty.’ To follow orders and perform in a professional way that saved their very lives today was beyond anything she had ever experienced. Ever! And this made her rethink many things about GRID Command. She had no idea how this was going to play out, but she felt she was on the right side of the history and that gave her the strength to believe she was doing the right thing.
The lift door opened and the air felt thick with words and sounds. Sean called it ‘Deck chatter’ Loggar remembered. He once told her that GC was a very superstitious lot. Quiet a Top Deck for over a minute and the ship would suffocate and die. She laughed, but he only smiled at her. He kissed her on the forehead and said, “Who wants to tempt those odds?” She remembered nodding. Sean led her over to the Observer’s seat. He walked over to his chair and sat down.
“Dawn, the fighters aboard, yet? The scout ships?”
“Last one hit landing bay. All is secure.”
He nodded and said loudly, “I have the conn.”
Dawn nodded, “Very good, sir. You have the conn.”
The ship shook violently.
Sean said, “Mr. Foster, for each impact, you owe me a credit.”
Foster said, “Aye, sir” and was damned determined to pay the Captain as little as possible.
Sean tapped at his keyboard. “Pulse, I’m gonna need one-three-zero percent.”
Pulse was at his desk when the Captain piped in with the request. He shook his head and thought, ‘What a mad man.’ And chuckled softly. He punched the Comm. Button. “Captain, I’ll give you what I can, that last pass took out some packs. We had to shut down several decks.”
Sean’s voice came through the speakers. “One-three-zero, Pulse. It’s not a suggestion. The Webster is not going to let us walk away from this.”
Pulse frowned, but nodded. “Yes, Captain. Engineering out.” He clicked off. “Hey!” He yelled. “Smithy! Give me one three zero percentage on the engines. No back talk. The Captain is gonna try one of those impossible maneuvers that made him famous! Ten seconds Man, ten seconds!”
Robin tapped into Engineering. “Chief, I’m gonna need more power to the shields. Johnson may be making a stand.” She called out to her Tact Officer. “Target Johnson’s weapons. I need that ship defenseless.” She tapped out a message to Sean via her Command Screen.
The Johnson shook from an impact.
Sean said, “Two credits, Mr. Foster!” He closed his eyes and listened to Top Deck chatter. It was a splendid thing. The Johnson was running like a fine tuned instrument soloing for all it was worth. He moved his head to tactical. The weapon’s chief, Mr. Kelley, had just instructed Weapon’s control to target the Webster’s Main weapons. He heard him say, ‘The Captain is going to do it. Be ready.’ Sean turned his head slightly right and heard Kirkland on the Comm. Channels. He was instructing Damage Control to prepare for situations on aft and bottom decks. Sean turned his head to the left. He heard a whisper from two crewman, ‘Cap’n’s gonna do it. Bet the bitch gets surprised.’ Then he heard Dawn. ‘Medical, prepare for possible incoming. This is make or break.’ Sean opened his eyes and smiled. He loved his crew. He could wish for none finer. He looked over to Loggar. She was in the Observer’s chair watching him. He winked at her and turned his attention to the main view screen. “Mr. Foster.”
“Yes, sir?”
The ship shook from a phase torpedo impact.
“Three credits. How far is the Webster?”
Foster tapped out a command on his terminal. “Webster is one-zero-zero kilometers, mean distance.”
Sean tapped on his keyboard. Calculations streamed on his CRT. He punched in a few more commands. Nodded at the results. “Mr. Foster, change shield harmonics. Data is on your CRT.
Mr. Foster tapped at his CRT. “Changing shield harmonics to 1.23 attoseconds.”
“On my mark, let the Webster close to within five-nine kilometers and decrease shields to one-third power to radius 5.8.”
The Johnson shook again.
“Sir, four credits, on your mark let the Webster close to within five-nine kilometers and decrease shields to one-third power then increase shield diameter to radius 5.8, understood.”
“Once shields surround both ships, pivot and come about across the Webster’s forward weather deck and surge to light seven.”
Foster repeated the command.
Sean saw an incoming message on his CRT. It was an urgent ship to ship from the Webster. The message read, “Sean, please stop. We don’t have to fight. You are leaving me no choice.” He typed in a reply and sent it.
Sean called out to Gunnery, “Gunnery! Stern guns, fire!”
Robin sent her message and waited a few seconds. She knew Sean well enough that he wouldn’t surrender. She had to try; she owed that much to him. Then a reply came back. It read, “Sorry, Robin, you also leave me with no choice. Remember the Way of the Warrior – Bushido.” She looked up to see the Johnson’s stern guns open up with full force. Her helmsperson said, “Shields at eight-seven percent, Captain! Johnson is pivoting and distance dropped to five-eight point seven kilometers.”
Even as Robin shouted out the words she knew it was pointless. “Increase distance and shields!”
The Johnson accelerated across the Webster’s forward weather deck electrostatically snatching the Webster’s shield emitters. Nearly every emitter from bow top to stern port and starboard gone. Then the Johnson banked hard starboard and fired hull guns on the Webster’s weapons. After it passed, the Johnson pivoted rear and took out Webster’s main engines – crippling the ship. The Johnson pivoted forward and streaked off leaving the Webster near dead in space.
Sean sat back and watched the Webster list. He checked his Inbox and saw a message from Robin. He clicked on it and read it. “Damn you! Damn you to hell!” He laughed – the Captain’s burst. “Mr. Foster, get us away from here. Random setting.”
“Aye, aye, sir. Heading is coordinates 10, 22, 100.”
“Execute.” Sean said. He then got up and walked over to Loggar. “Care for a snack? I’m hungry.”
Loggar was dumbfounded. Sean had just made space debris of a far more superior ship. He had an outburst of the tickles and was now hungry. When she first sat in the observation chair Robin had been in command. She knew Sean was originally the “Captain” of the Johnson but she never saw him perform. Personally she had never “seen” real combat - just the vid files tight beamed to GC. Of course, she had that dichotic state of wanting and not wanting to see combat. When the search for a compatible DNA to the Necronians was found, she was surprised the match was an Officer in GRID Command. She actually had two surprises. Robin was also a descendant. She retrieved his bio and studied it. It read like Sean was a Heinleinian character – he just had so much knowledge. Now she witnessed him first hand and was simply awed. He piloted a shuttle like a pro. He so much as shrugged off a near death situation like it happened every day. He sat in that chair and calmly formulated a plan that took out one of GC’s best ships with an experienced Captain behind it. And now the man was hungry. Incredible! She understood why he was the only commander in GRID Command who could command a Battlecruiser. “Yes, please, and tell me what in the world just happened. I must’ve blinked and missed an entire moment in time.”
Sean laughed lightly, smiling. “You didn’t miss anything, Johnson has a good crew.” He helped Loggar out of the chair and they walked to the lift.
Dawn said over her shoulder, “Dr. Loggar, don’t let the Captain off lightly. Make him explain everything!”
“You have the conn, Dawn.” The elevator door opened.
“I have the conn, sir, but begging the Captain’s pardon, are we really headed to Earth?”
“Nope. I just want some distance between the Webster and us. She’ll be ineffectual for at least twelve hours. That’ll buy us some time.”
The lift door closed.
Dawn tapped on her CRT. She checked the pools results. McCoy in Medical got first for when the Webster would be disabled. Landers got first for the Landing Bay approach. Delvin got first on when and who would win the fighter battle and Rico, in Damage Control, got first for when the Captain decided to go to Mess. She was so close on all of them!