Three Months later. September 24th, 2265. 01:00 CNS Waukesha – Bridge
John was sitting in the captain’s chair quietly reviewing the squadron’s successes. They had been to six systems and effectively ended the larger-scale pirating activities in each. To say that he was proud was an understatement. The ordinance his wing had expended was moderately worrying but the military’s budget could handle that.
The resupply expenses his fleet was running up were a bit terrifying though. Those missile frigates, amazing for what they are, burn credits like nobody’s business. For each engagement they required resupply. As much as he like that force projection he was keen to replace them with an attack frigate and four more destroyers. That is if his superiors give him any guff over their expenses.
“Estimating our exit from slip space in ten minutes, Captain,” Barbara said, “The planned exit is in dead space about a day’s travel to a friendly station in the Delta Eridani system. The nearest planet will be the garden world of Herculean Prime.”
“Barbara, why are you on the bridge this shift again?” John asked semi-seriously.
“Do you want the blunt answer or a more politically correct answer?”
John snorted, “Do I give off the vibe that I care about being politically correct?”
Willy answered that question immediately for Barbara, “That’s a negative, sir.”
“Seaman Harrison informed me of digestive issues that made him incapable of working his shift.”
“Oh, I need more details on that,” John looked up from his report and leaned forward in his chair grinning like an idiot, “Specifically, I want to know the specific issues the poor bastard is having,”
Barbara shook her head and rolled her eyes, “Ugh. He’s having explosive diarrhea. He was insistent on being near a bathroom this morning.”
John shook his head in agreement, “Chef Parker’s menu last night was an interesting one. Unfortunately, not everyone’s gut is capable of processing that amount of heat.”
Monique nodded, “It was so good. It reminded me of some of my aunt’s cooking. None of my friends have ever been prepared for proper Sichuan cooking.”
“I think Parker is going to have to abstain from authentic Sichuan meals from now on. Should he bastardize it by removing the heat that could be acceptable,” John chuckled to himself.
“Captain, do you have any plans for the time off?” Barbara asked desperately wanting to change the subject.
“My wife wants to redo a couple of rooms in our condo. That means it’s the annual redecorating season again,” John shook his head, “I probably won’t be doing much beyond spending a whack ton of money and moving shit around for her. I offered to pay to go to a resort in Manchester, but she shot that down.”
“Not much of a staycation?” Barbara giggled, “That does remind me, it’s about time to redecorate my living room.”
“Why do the rooms have to change?” John asked, “They work just fine as they are.”
“Well, for starters you aren’t home, she is,” Emily said giggling, “Secondly, we like change.”
“It is my personal belief that change is highly overrated,” John proclaimed for all to hear.
The women on the bridge carefully rolled their eyes and shook their heads. They clearly didn’t agree with him. The men, not that their opinion counted on this topic, agreed with John. But like John, they too would lose that argument. Unlike him, they wouldn’t bother trying to start and ultimately lose, that argument.
“Eight minutes to realspace transition,” Barbara said.
“Have we received the system intel yet?” John asked.
Emily shook her head, “The colonial seat on Herculean Prime said it’s still collecting intel.”
“Fuckers, that means they are redacting the shit out of their transactions,” John said, “Why is the Naval base not sending their data to us?”
“They are also reviewing the records,” Emily sighed, “If the rumors are true, there is a bit of an incestuous relationship going on here.”
“Wonderful. Both the militia and the colony are working with or receiving bribes from the local pirates. Emily, reach out to Naval Intelligence and request the unredacted information from them. Also in the future, let’s go to both parties from the start instead of relying solely on the locals. That’s bitten us in the ass every time, they seem to be wholly unreliable in every scenario.”
“Understood.”
“The Lagos and Pasto have asked how you’d like to handle the formation upon entering realspace,” Emily said after reading from her terminal.
“Standard triple pack deployment. Shoot for twenty-five thousand klicks between us.”
“Transmitting.”
“Have you heard how the other squadrons are doing?” Willy asked.
“It’s been successful. We’ve probably got the edge in kill count. The systems we’ve found ourselves in just had more pirate activity. The core worlds are appreciative of the efforts. Which probably will continue for another deployment or two.”
Barbara then asked, “Are we doing the same in the outer rings?”
“Not to the same degree of focus. The intermediate ring of colonies is seeing similar peacekeeping measures. Unless the outer rim colony is rich and a great exporter, whatever methods they were using is what they would be using for the foreseeable future.”
“Sucks to be them, eh?” Monique said.
“If Fleet Command is true to their word, outer rim actions will begin next year,” John answered before feeling an uncomfortable amount of slip turbulence, “What the hell was that chop?”
Barbara was just as surprised, “Just got quite a bit of localized chop. Appears that two waves intercepted one another at the right angle.”
“Time to transition?” John asked.
“Three minutes and counting.”
As if on cue Marty spoke up, “Our main drive and generators are in the green. We can transition whenever y’all want.”
“Chief, do you recommend we transition with shielding activated?”
“Yeah, couldn’t hurt,” Marty’s tone couldn’t hide that he didn’t sound like he cared one way or the other.
“Brian, activate shields. Emily let the others know to do the same,” John shrugged, “Better to be prepared than to catch us with our pants down.”
“Sixty seconds and counting. Chop is going to continue getting worse before it gets better,” Barbara said frustratingly.
Slip space was a fickle thing. Waves were omnipresent in this unusual realm. Most of the time one wave absorbed another resulting in a larger wave. Occasionally waves would strike one another and eradicate one another, certainly a weird fielding for a ship in one but generally not a violent one. When waves met one another and caused a feedback loop of sorts when ships went on a rollercoaster ride.
The task force just happened to come across a feedback loop crash. Civilian ships were loath to jump back into real space in these conditions. Military vessels had additional technologies and developments that their civilian counterparts either couldn’t afford or didn’t know about. It was rare for such feedback to damage ships but not unheard of. The military demanded technology that would protect them, then after receiving it deemed that very technology proprietary and never shared it with the civilians.
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The CNS Waukesha plowed through the slip waves. The ship was no longer was it trying to ride a wave to increase its efficiency. It was following the age-old method of brute forcing its way to the transition point. The missile frigates and corvettes were following closely behind in its excessive wake, making for a substantially more comfortable ride.
“Engaging slip generators in five… four… three…” Barbara said with her hand over a button on her terminal, “Two… one…”
“Once more unto the breach…” John said quietly as he watched the viewscreen.
The generators powered up and a wormhole to realspace appeared in front of them. John was always stunned by the odd beauty of the two-dimensional wormholes. True, getting back to reality was always a welcome sight, but there was something so otherworldly about the wormholes. It was as if they didn’t truly belong in the universe.
The Waukesha’s primary thrusters fired up to full burn to speed the transition up. The bow of the ship crossed the precipice first. The shuddering of the ship began to reduce as more and more of the ship was back in reality. Moments later the rear thrusters had crossed through the wormhole, they were finally in realspace once more.
“CONTACTS, TWO-TWO-EIGHT, UP TWENTY DEGREES!” Brian shouted from his weapon’s console.
“Red alert, all hands to battle stations,” John calmly said as he announced it to the entire ship, “Status report now.”
“Six vessels are attacking a larger vessel. Eighty thousand clicks away. Scanners are having a hell of a time making sense of the bigger ship.”
“Helm, all ahead full,” John said before pressing a button on his chair, “Marty, I need everything and then some that the core can give us.”
Swear words could be heard in the background before Marty spoke, “Aye, Aye captain. We can run at ten percent over our limit. I can only give you that for thirty minutes.”
“That’ll have to do. Emily, let the others know where we are. If I’m not mistaken, they are farther away than we are.”
“On it, Captain.”
Brian then spoke up, “It’s going to be several minutes before we get into gun range, but nearly an hour until we’re in our optimal range.”
Willy then spoke, “Sir, that big ship is kicking ass and taking names, but our scanners are still having a hard time getting any usable data.”
“Ignore the scanners for now,” John said, “Pull up visual cameras and zoom in on the combat.”
Willy went to work at his terminal. The screen on the front terminal split into two. A wireframe view of the ships and how they were maneuvering. On the left side of the screen was a video of what the forward camera was seeing in visible light. It began zooming in on the combat.
John’s jaw dropped to the floor as he jumped from his seat and stood a couple of steps in front of his chair. That reaction was entirely unexpected by the bridge crew. The bridge was silent for several uncomfortable moments before John spoke again.
“Fucking hell, that’s the Icarus!” John exclaimed, “Willy, launch a deep scan probe, maximum burn. Do it now. NOW!”
The bridge crew was shocked at not only the identity of the ship being attacked but their Captain’s reaction. Breaths were held. The impossible mission task was sitting in front of them. Willy continued to work despite his slack-jawed surprise at the situation. A probe was launched in short order and it sped ahead of the Waukesha and toward the battle.
“Use the VIs to scan the images. I want to know everything about that fucking ship.”
“Already on it,” Willy said as he and Monique were furiously working at trying to acquire as much intel on the enemy ship.
“Who are they fighting?” John said as he walked over to a terminal on the left wall of the bridge.
“Pirates, unsure of faction,” Emily answered, “They are using a rotational encryption package to communicate with one another that is making it difficult to translate.”
John then pressed a button to speak to engineering again, “Marty, how much more can you give us?”
“We’re at the limits, Captain.”
“That wasn’t my question. How much more can that engine handle?”
“If we push it any higher, we risk damaging the engine. That includes but is not limited to blowing out plasma conduits to the nacelles and thrusters. Or just exploding us. Either of those scenarios would be bad.”
“Understood, but how much more can you give me without life-ending worries.”
“Five, maybe six percent,” Marty was running the math in his head, “You can get that much more for no more than five minutes. But once that time is up the engine has to be brought down to a lower power setting so we can inspect it.”
“Understood, do it,” John said as he turned to look at Barbara, “Shunt all additional energy to the primary thrusters. Brian, time to engagement range?”
“Railguns will be in outermost range in two minutes. Getting a solid firing pattern at this range is going to be difficult. We’re twenty minutes out until we get to optimal range.”
“How about lances?”
“Six minutes out.”
“Fly baby, fly,” John said as he gripped the armrests.
“Splash another pirate,” Willy said, “Speaking of the pirates the Icarus is fighting aren’t from this system. They primarily operate out of the Beta Viriginis system.”
John looked back at Willy, “That’s what, thirty lightyears away?”
“Give or take.”
“Who did they piss off to go all the way out here? The locals can’t be liking that,” John mused the statement.
“The Icarus has already destroyed three of the pirate ships, sir. Whatever advantage they may have had against them is now gone,” Monique said, “The deep scanning probe has begun transmitting data back to us.
“Lieutenants Cohen and Davis are both reporting issues with their ships and others in their wings. They are slowing down to prevent any damage to their cores,” Emily said.
John nodded as he walked back to his chair and sat down and pressed a button, “Marty, bring the power back to nominal levels. You may have all the time to begin maintenance inspections.”
“I am reducing its output to fifty percent until we finish a deep scan on it and our power management systems,” Marty’s annoyance could be clearly heard in his voice, “You are looking at a two-to-three-hour delay.”
“Very well, do so.”
The ship’s core could be heard immediately powering down. The sound was a bit horrifying, but thankfully not so bad that it sounded like any serious damage was done. Though it was certain that when this deployment ended the core and its power systems would receive an exhaustive scan, delaying any additional deployments.
“Sir, why are we giving up?” Barbara asked.
“I’ve been looking at the range calculations in the lower right corner. Brian is about to tell us that they are moving as quickly as we are. Effectively meaning we’re not going to get into gun range.”
“Yeah, they were about ten percent quicker than our top speed,” Brian said from his terminal, “Splash two more pirate ships. The third one appears to be winged.”
“The Icarus has disengaged from the fighting,” Emily said, “There was a taunting message sent to the remaining ship.”
John nodded, “Adjust course, I want to make contact with that stricken pirate ship,” he paused before changing who he was about to talk to on the tiny display on his chair, “Commander Buckley, how long till we can launch fighter interceptors?”
Some mild crackling was heard on the coms before she answered, “Already have a squad in their fighters. Five minutes out from the ideal launch distance. Each fighting is going to have ten drones slaved to it.”
“Excellent, launch discretion is under your control,” John said.
The Waukesha continued its slow but methodical flight toward the stricken pirate ship. The ship was no longer accelerating. Because of the angles involved its speed hadn’t slowed down a noticeable amount. But with the current engine output, it was no longer capable of increasing or even maintaining its current speed. What they had was what they’d get until this engagement was over.
Five minutes later fighters and drones were launched from the hangars. John watched the tactical wireframe as they crept closer and closer to the pirate vessel. John waited until they were just outside of weapons range before contacting the pirates.
“Pirate vessel. This is Lieutenant Lief of the CNS Waukesha. I couldn’t help but notice y’all got your shit pushed in. Do you need assistance?”
No answer was received.
“Please advise, I have fighters making contact with your busted ass ship in about thirty seconds. You can speak or die. The clock’s ticking.”
The viewscreen then showed a low-resolution and scratchy-looking image. The pirate’s bridge looked like a mess. Wires were hanging from the ceiling. Smoke lingered in the room. Sparks could be seen coming from the terminals and hanging wires behind the captain.
“If we surrender, we go to jail.”
John nodded, “But you won’t be dead. Between you me and the bridge crew, you are more valuable than regular pirates, which works in your favor.”
“And how is that?”
“You fought the Folly of Icarus.”
“Fat lot of good that did,” the man spat back sarcastically.
“True. How many of you survived on your ship?”
The man shrugged, “Twenty, maybe twenty-five.”
John nodded, “Are you willing to surrender?”
The man nodded.
“Commander, please note the pirates have surrendered. Do not attack the ship,” John said as he spoke to his CAG before looking at the pirate, “Do you have lifeboats?”
The man nodded once again.
“Enter them. Our fighters will ferry you back to my ship where we will take you into custody. Then we will begin debriefing you. I can’t guarantee anything but if you provide any actionable intel then I can try and pull in some favors related to your assured punishment.”
The man looked completely defeated. He nodded once more before ordering a general evacuation from the ship. True to John’s word their fighters swooped in and grabbed the lifeboats. The fighters did the pirates a rare kindness by taking wide turns back to the Waukesha and not accelerating too quickly. If they wanted to, they could easily turn the contents of the life pods into a red mush.
The drones stayed behind as they entered the pirate ship. They were to investigate the ship for anything usable but primarily were there to get access to the ship’s navigational computer and its central computing core. Any scan data they had on the Icarus would be welcome. As would any intel on local pirate activities along with the recent activities of this pirate ship.
John would be a busy boy over the coming days. Reams upon reams of data would need to be reviewed. Twenty-three pirates would also need debriefing. He’d also get chewed out by virtually all the engineers onboard the ship for pushing the core as hard as they had. They also needed to dock and restock again.
That last part would be controversial. John was prepared to head home after turning over the pirates. But thanks to their wandering ass-backward into a pirate-on-pirate fight they were able to acquire information about the local pirates. They were much more entrenched in this system than previously thought. A quick resolution here was no longer possible, which now meant their deployment was being extended until the pirate threat was removed.