Rear Admiral Edward groaned as he wiped his sleep deprived blue eyes. He was deeply regretting his decision to have them make a hyperspace jump at 8AM, just as he woke up. The sensation had been enough to make him dry heave despite the smoother than usual transit. Well, smoother transit than the first time.

But it was time to get to the bridge and there wasn’t any extra time allotted this morning for feeling wretched.

So, he continued to put on his tie, around the neck, get the lengths right, cross, flip around, up, thread it down, then tighten. A quick check in the tiny bathroom’s mirror and a little fiddling with his messy and curly brown hair made the pale man in front of him almost presentable and officer like. Elliot would always tell him that he looked good out of bed, but Edward was fairly sure that was just pillow talk.

Pouring in hot water into his flask filled with milk and instant coffee was then all he needed to do. A quick mix with a spare, dirtied with teaspoon mixing the stray grounds into the drink.

A wrench of the bulkhead door and he was out. Then, closing it behind him, he started walking, only to stop as another door opened in front of him.

Out from it stepped Alex, their deeply tanned face also a little haggard but their black hair was in a better state than Edward’s.

“Morning!” He called over, waving a lazy arm.

They turned groaning, “Good morning to you to…” in return.

“Need any coffee? I’ve got more than I could drink here.”

“No…” they waved their hand, “I’ve gotten someone to run down and get some for me when I get to the CIC.”

Edward’s nostrils puffed, “Using your rank to push some grunts around now?”

“No, they’re just returning a favour to me…”

“I don’t think I could ever get David to return any of the ones he owes to me.”

“I think getting anything like that out of him is like blood from a stone.”

Edward grunted in agreement, taking a large swig from his flask, “Cheers to that…”

They both sighed, their feet clanking against the metal floors as the two of them made their sluggish way to the CIC. Their practised salutes and barks of “At ease” following as they entered into the dimly lit space, the two of them slinking to their respective stations.

“Aw mate, did you throw up then?” David chuckled, sipping a mug of his tea as he leaned against the central command console.

The ever-reliable brick was something Edward was really starting to like and prefer over the old configuration for commanders. The console had everything you needed, your own computer terminal, a large desk space with integrated LCD, two phones for both the IC and the 2IC with one being a conventional one and the other a sound powered one. And then above it all was a display currently showing the RADAR screen.

Edward sighed, ignoring David’s jibe, “Did we make it to where we actually intended to end up?”

“Of course we did! We are currently approaching Pluto with the rest of the fleet and are currently receiving telemetry from the beacon and calculating our next jump to high earth orbit.”

“And the ETA?”

“About an hour and a half.”

Edward took another swig from his flask, “So this afternoon we’ll to have kippers while we cruise towards a dock in low earth orbit then.” He clapped his hands, raising his voice as he turned around to the various officers crewing the CIC, “So if everyone keeps up the good work and we get to earth orbit safely I’ll make sure everyone gets a pint tonight then!”

A cheer rose up from the rest of the crew along with a few rumbles from them banging their desks and consoles.

“You sure know to improve moral.”

“It’s called being a good commander.”

David sniffed, “I keep the men in line too…”

“Through fear and cigarette deals.”

“How did you-“

“We’ll talk about it later.”

The room started to die down again, the sounds lowering into the regular mumbled between stations and the clack of keyboards.

A blip appeared on the RADAR, a small contact on the edge of detection range.

“Sensors? You picking something up?” Edward called.

“Afirm! Contact classified as master one! Bearing X-1-2-7, Y-0-8-3, 190 meters per second, 448 kilometres, approaching!”

The contact flashed for a moment, a box appearing around with the abbreviation “M1” and it’s distance listed by it, which was quickly closing.

“Alex, try to hail it…”

They nodded, flicking a few switches on their console as they cleared their throat, “Unidentified vessel, this is the IFC second expeditionary fleet, identify yourself immediately.”

No response.

“Unidentified vessel, this is your first warning, identify yourself now! If you do not do so you will be classed as a suspicious vessel and more concrete warnings will follow.”

No response.

By now the range had closed to 400 kilometres and continued to lower, all the while Edward’s mind was starting to race.

“Sensors!” He barked, “Have you got any identification for the vessel?”

“Uhh-“ The chief sensor officer stuttered, “RADAR signature suggests a large cargo vessel and probably a older design style. We’re looking through data base to see if we have anything but they’re a bit far to get some good precision thermal readings and it hasn’t fired it’s engines, so we can’t check what sort of one it has from the exhaust.”

Edward grunted, biting his lips before finally giving another order, “Alert the fleet and put us all on yellow alert. Gunnery, get the point defence grid warmed up, I don’t want to be surprised and defenceless.”

“Yes sir!”

And like clockwork the beeps of the yellow alert filled the CIC, warning everyone onboard to get out of bed and get prepared in case the situation started to get warmer. Soon enough a few more members of the CIC crew should be filing in if they’ve remembered their drills…

“Alex, have you still not got any response?”

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

“Not at all.”

“Shit…”

The distance now read 360 kilometres, every few seconds knocking off another.

“Sir!” Alex called, “The fleet wants to know if we are going to engage.”

“We’re not going to yet, we’re sticking to the peacetime ROE.”

“Afirm.”

David’s eyes narrowed, “Edward, there isn’t any good reason for a freighter to be around Pluto orbit without it’s transponder or it’s SOS on when we haven’t gotten any reports of stranded civies. This ship is probably some sort of smuggler or pirate vessel and we such henceforth engage it!”

“And that would break the ROE lieutenant commander. We’re not firing on it unless it becomes hostile, or we need to. Sensors, have you actually got any sort of match yet!?”

The sensor division’s chief officer looked up again, “The closest match we have is to a Marco class heavy multi-role deep space freighter, it’s an older design. Though the signature of those vessels are rather variable depending on the cargo selection. However, we’re fairly certain it is one and one was reported stolen a month ago after it was fitted with a short-ranged hyperspace drive.”

“I told it wouldn’t be slinking around for any good reason-“

“We’ve detected a short signature spike and we have received a RADAR ping!”

Edward whipped around, “What sort!?”

“Signature change suggests some kind of ejection. Could be cargo, could be some sort of munitions, but we are not detecting and exhaust signatures on thermals.”

“It could be a cold launched missile!” David barked, his body tensing.

“And where on earth would pirates get a missile from!?”

“They could have salvaged one from a Ruski or Chinese vessel, there are a lot of wreaks out there of them.”

“Fucking hell!” Edward cursed, “Three decades after regular deep space flight and there are already space war profiteers and pirates!”

“The ejected object is moving ahead of the vessel! Signature suggests PS-750 ASMs! No-“

A claxon sounded around the room, the familiar sound of the RADAR lock warning.

“We’re detecting multiple RADAR locks on us, and thermals are picking up its engines! Vampire, ripple bearing X-1-2-7, Y-0-8-3, 300 meters per second, 240 kilometres, approaching and accelerating! Vampire, Vampire!”

“Fire the fucking CIWS! LOCK THEM! SET THE FLEET TO RED ALERT” Edward screamed, his panicked gaze boring a hole into the gunner officer’s faces. Just as they became bathed in red light for a moment, the familiar siren and calm voice blasting through the ship.

“Action stations, Action stations, all crew to action stations. Red alert has been set. This is not a drill, all crew to action stations.”

“Aye! We’re trying out best but they’re just out of range-“

“So get the fucking locks for WHEN IT DOES! Coms! Get the fleet to disperse!”

Alex nodded, their eyes filled with panic like their admiral’s, “Yes sir!”

“Helm! Evasive manoeuvres! I don’t care in what direction, just get us moving, but keep us under 1G until one of them gets within 100 kilometres, then you can thrash it!”

“Aye!”

Edward’s mind continued to race, his eyes locked onto the RADAR screen as the fleet and the accompanying cargo ships started to burn, their relative speeds tagged next to their contacts slowly starting to rise. The Sheffield’s frame then rumbled slightly as the engines warmed up, the turbopumps filling the fuel lines. Then his body was buffeted by a sudden burst of acceleration as the main engine lit, the gravity systems soon countering it.

But still the blot of missiles continued to grow closer and closer, their acceleration outpacing the fleet’s.

“Locks acquired! Firing!”

The screen filled with boxes indicating the splurge of coilgun rounds ripping out of the CIWS guns. All of them streaking towards the missiles that were now within 200 kilometres and still accelerating. Most of the rounds would not meet their targets at this ranged but given how close the missiles were together, there may be a lucky hit.

Though now, the rest of the CIC crew were rushing in, pushing their way through the door and scrambling to their stations.

“How long until they are in LASER range?”

“Forty seconds admiral!”

Edward gritted his teeth, “Load tube one with a Rottweiler and tube two with a decoy! Sensors, what’s the state of the pirate vessel!?”

“Sensors indicate it’s turning!”

“Helm, make turns for X-1-3-2, Y-0-8-2, we’re chasing after it!”

A moment passed before the inevitable, “Aye! Turning for X-1-3-2, Y-0-8-2!” followed.

“Sir!” The gunnery officer called, “Should we get locks for the missiles?”

“Negative, we’re going for a disabling it rather than blowing it for bits. We’re not losing a potential lead for the admiralty on a potential pirate problem.”

“Aye sir.”

His hands gripped the console harder that it ever did, his mind ever conscious of the closing distance between them and the missiles, “Helm, maintain course, don’t make any extra manoeuvres! We need to stay on course to that pirate vessel!”

“Aye!”

He felt his body lurch to one side as the main engine cut, the RCS system spinning them around with the dampening systems struggled to keep up. Then the ship cut it’s rotation before lighting the main engine up again, throwing all of them forward for a moment before the dampeners finally settled.

Quickly they started to pull away from the rest of the force burning towards Pluto, but at the same time they would be facing the missiles sooner, their relative speeds increasing.

“Sir! LASERs are in range and firing! Only one missile is down so far.”

“Shit…” Edward could only hope that the spray of PDW and CIWS fire would destroy them. From experience in the war, he knew those ASMs were large and were made to kill generation 2.5 battleships. So, if she got hit, the Sheffield would be making a call back to the 80s. A very deadly call back.

The CIC was now alight with activity now though, with everything starting to spin into motion. The distance closing faster than ever. He’d never been able to appreciate the range on the cruise ASMs and he didn’t like the position he was admiring them from now.

“Sir! Three more missiles down! Two are still incoming!”

“Distance!?”

“Its bellow 150 kilometres now!”

Every muscle in his body was screaming at him to make moves towards the pressure suits under the console and to tell everyone to do the same. But doing so would do nothing if one of those missiles hit them amidships and tore it along with the CIC open, surely killing them with the blast or leaving them to vent into space without anyway to hook themselves down.

He saw the looks in everyone’s eyes in the CIC and they all read the same, their thoughts the same as his.

“One missile left!” The gunnery officer yelled, loosening the tension but not removing it as that one missile still streaked across the RADAR.

But one thing was missing as Edward glared at the screen, “Lieutenant! Why aren’t we shooting at it!?”

“The LASERs need to recharge and the heatsinks for the guns need to vent for a moment sir!”

“Focus on getting those LASERs to fire!”

“Sir!” David barked, his eyes boring into the admiral, “We need to order everyone to get the pressure suits on no-“

He was cut off as another alarm joined the medley of others. A haunting electronic beeping, low and metallic accompanied by the pre-recorded order of, “Brace, Brace, Brace! Brace, Brace, Brace!” All in a far too calm voice.

“30 seconds to impact!”

Edward’s mind was becoming a blur of emotions and thoughts, with every functional part of his brain running through all of the possibilities even as his mouth started to speak without it, “Suits on! Evasive-“

“Sir! Missile down! Missile down!”

His heart stopped for a moment before fluttering with joy, the impact alarm cutting as the missile contact disintegrated, the point defence proving it’s worth as the LASER detonated the missile. Leaving the ship finally safe from the barrage.

David’s face curled almost into a smile, a few shaky laughs exiting his lips, “Well! This one isn’t going to be fucked over by a missile like the other one then! Permission to fire back sir!”

Edward’s grip started to loosen slightly on the table, his eyes looking around the CIC before his mind finally settled, “Sensors, what’s our distance from the enemy vessel and what’s their acceleration?”

“250 kilometres and we have over double the acceleration they have sir, they seem to be taking it quite slow. So, we’re starting to gain on them, though they’re trying their best to run!”

“Right then! Gunnery, get a lock on for the railguns and get ready to fire one of the 15cms right at their engine assembly. If I’m correct they have the direct fusion drives, so their engines are both their power source and propulsion.”

“That class are fitted with them, yes sir and their emissions confirm it.” The sensor officer replied curtly.

David just huffed, “That’s a bit of a weakness then.”

“It’s a commercial vessel,” Edward responded, “It’s cheaper since they don’t need a lot of power on them and are fine taking it slow if it saves on fuel. That and they don’t have to worry so much about the sort of redundancy you have in military ships.”

“Well then, I guess that means we could be on them in a few moments if we actually fired up our engines to full power.”

“And we don’t need to. Gunnery! Have you got that lock yet!?”

The officer nodded their head, “It’s got quite a low probability of hitting, but we have a lock and a firing solution sir.”

“Fire when you’re ready. Alex!”

Alex shook their head, their eyes still cloudy with their nerves not yet recovered, “Sir?”

“Get ready to give offer them the chance to surrender.”

“Right…”

“Firing sir!” The gunner officer barked, their face locked to their screen.

The contact for the round streaked across the screen, taking only seconds to cross the gulf before merging.

“Sir!” The sensors officer barked, “We’ve registered a hit to their aft section! Their engines are powering down but they’re rolling a little.”

Edward could feel the elation that spread around the room at those words, but still everyone was quiet as Alex sent the message over, more time passing.

Before finally, “They’ve accepted our offer of surrender and are powering down all of their engines.”

And with that, Edward could finally let a smile spread across his face, “Everyone, you’re all getting two pints now! Alex! Call in a clean-up team and tell the marines to prepare a boarding party!”