Battleship Trafalgar

Hostile Supply Depot

There was a bright flash, and the outpost filled the shuttle bay’s external door. He reached for the bag and passed it back as one of the Marines lost their lunch.

The Trafalgar jumped. The view out of the shuttle bay from where Chase sat in the cockpit shifted, and he could now see the outpost in the distance.

“Should we disembark?” asked Wokoma.

“Wait for clearance,” he replied, reaching up to the switch above him to impatiently call the bridge. He waited a moment, and Harding came over the intercom.

“Abort mission,” she said sternly. “There are too many ships between here and there.”

“Shit,” said Chase, standing up.

“What happens now?” asked Wokoma.

“I’m going to find out,” he replied.

He walked out of the shuttle and through the bay. The alarm sirens were sounding loudly as he made his way to the bridge, which was a hive of activity. The ship shook as he stepped out of the express elevator. Chase grabbed onto the open door frame to brace himself. On the forward viewport, he saw fighters circling them.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Harding stared back at him from the command chair. “Commander, we can’t get close enough. These ships are faster and more manoeuvrable than us. Are you ready, Mr Dryden?” She turned to look at the engineer.

“Yes, Captain,” he said.

“Jump.”

Chase held his grip as the bridge both expanded and contracted and a split second later, they were far from the enemy fleet at the edge of the said system and, for the moment, safe.

“Any sign they’ve detected us?” Harding asked.

“None yet,” said Wokoma, from the helm.

Harding confirmed, before getting to her feet and approaching Chase. “We can’t pull off a long-range missile strike, and I can’t get the ship close enough to land a shuttle. We are going to have to abort.” Harding ran her hand through her grey hair, the tension showing on her face.

“There must be another way,” said Chase.

Harding turned and looked back at the engineering station. “Mr Dryden, how many short-range jumps can we still use?” she asked.

The engineer took a moment to confirm some calculations with the ship’s computer before responding. “You’ve got one more jump, Captain. That’s all I’m prepared to guarantee at this time. You see, Commander, we can only jump one set—has to be to withdraw back to Mellotte.”

The tactical hologram showed the enemy fleet holding position by the outpost. They weren’t currently searching for them. Chase didn’t know how long that would be in the situation.

“If we pull this off, we can use the hyperdrive to get back,” he said.

“And if we can’t pull this off, we’ll have lost our greatest weapon in this fight,” said Harding. “This ship stands alone; we can’t lose it.”

“I understand that, but there’s too much at stake. They’re using this outpost as a stage to fight against us.” He turned to Dryden. “Have you any alternate jumps calculated?”

Dryden looked from Chase to Harding. He took a moment before he answered.

“I know you, Dryden; there’s no way you haven’t got at least three plans that you wouldn’t bring to the captain because you know they’re too risky. Two of them, you probably wouldn’t even suggest to me.”

“We jump inside the station,” said Dryden.

Half the officers on the bridge turned to stare at him. He might as well have suggested they drive up to the outpost in a town car.

“What do you mean?” said Chase.

Dryden hit a button on his console, and the hologram expanded to show the station. “There’s a docking bay. It’s large. The Trafalgar couldn’t fit through its space doors, but we could jump in there.”

“The precision required under the best circumstances would be near impossible,” said Harding.

“There’s a reason he didn’t bring it to you before,” said Chase. “How confident are you that you can pull it off?” he asked.

Dryden thought about this for a moment. He walked around the hologram projector, staring at the display from every angle. “Sixty-eight per cent,” he said honestly.

Chase was used to him showing a lot more bravado; he found this sudden lack of it somehow reassuring.

“It would require two jumps,” said Harding. “In and out.”

“One and a half,” said Dryden. “We still have enough shielding that we could withdraw if we could jump into the station.” He pointed at the hologram. “And then jump to the system’s midpoint, say five A.U. It should make us disappear from their senses long enough that we can jump to hyperspace and rendezvous with the shuttle.”

“You’re assuming the blast takes out most of the fleet,” said Chase.

“It should do,” said Dryden. “You’ve seen how much explosive you’re taking with you.”

“What?” asked Chase.

Harding turned to Chase. “Shuttle bay now,” she ordered.

Chase made his way to the express elevator. The intercom chimed, and he heard the order go to the rest of his team, most of whom were still waiting by their craft. They wasted no time following him back on board and strapping in.

Chase tapped the shuttle’s controls and brought up a display over the cockpit’s window, behind which the black night flashed brightly for a moment as the ship jumped back to the hostile outpost. Chase suddenly felt very concerned—it was not there.

The Trafalgar rocked as weapons’ fire suddenly rained down on it.

“Bridge, sitrep?” Chase asked.

The ship shook again, and he held onto the control surface to steady himself.

“Stand by,” came the reply from Wokoma.

He looked to his right, where Winter was staring back at him. This was not good.

“Where the hell are they?”

He replied, “The Starfield out the bay’s star door is moving. Trafalgar must be firing manoeuvring thrusters.”

A moment later, the hostile outpost came into view. Chase was relieved.

“Assault team, you are cleared to disembark,” came Wokoma over the comm.

Chase acknowledged and activated the shuttle’s engines, accelerating out of the bay.

“Trafalgar, Shuttle One. We are clear.”

“Acknowledged, Shuttle One,” replied Wokoma.

Chase saw the grand old dame jump away on the rear sensors.

“We’re on our own,” he told Winter.

“Just how we like it,” she said.

“You all right back there?” he called to Sutherland.

“I’ll let you know in twenty minutes,” he replied.

“Can’t say fairer than that,” Chase acknowledged.

They set down on the outpost’s exterior hull, activating a mag lock to hold them in place. Chase sealed the helmet over his EVA suit and depressurised the shuttle. The team disembarked through the rear hatch.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Coming about, Chase used the suit’s manoeuvring jets to make his way down towards the airlock. On his left wrist, a display screen overlaid the technical readouts and relayed them to the helmet’s HUD. The airlock was on the starboard side of the outpost, about halfway down the side of the structure.

“Hold it,” Winter said in his ear.

Chase fired reverse thrusters to hold position.

“What’s up?” he asked.

A red blast of light ran across his HUD, invisible to the naked eye, but the suit recognised it.

“It’s a sensor sweep.”

“Surely that would pick us up, anyway?” asked Chase.

“They’re using much more intense radiation,” said Winter. “You don’t wanna be caught in it.”

“Acknowledged,” said Chase.

He watched as the sweep finished and then started a timer, waiting for it to come round again.

“It seems to be once every two minutes,” Winter reported.

“Is that enough time to get across?” asked Chase.

“It’ll be tight, but it’s not impossible,” Winter replied.

“Go on, my signal.”

Chase waited.

“Go,” she said.

He fired the suit’s manoeuvring jets and made his way across the hull of the outpost, coming down to the airlock.

“Get this open,” he instructed.

“Acknowledged,” said Winter.

He studied the airlock design. It wasn’t completely foreign, despite being of alien construction. The doorway was rectangular, tall, and narrow, slightly higher than cluster standard—not unrecognisable. There was a digital interface on the left-hand side; not the standard on the right.

He tapped at it with his suit’s glove, and the interface lit up. He did not know what the characters said, of course, but ran his hand across the dial, hoping that any system would recognise the life-saving potential of opening just because someone asked.

“Any luck?” said Winter.

“Not yet,” Chase replied. “Hold position,”

He turned and looked away from the station. In the distance, he could see several of the large ships that had engaged Trafalgar, still out there, holding position. He knew they shouldn’t be picked up by their sensors at this range, but he still felt very vulnerable out here.

There was only one thing left to try. Chase reached down to the back of his suit and unhooked a small strip of explosives. He pulled off the thin strip, revealing an adhesive, and placed it up against the side of the airlock before activating it.

He immediately kicked in his suit thrusters, withdrawing back to the rest of the squad, and alerted them that an explosion was imminent. His HUD displayed the timer counting down, and he watched as an explosion silently ripped out from the station in a sphere. He waited a few moments and then returned, swinging around to get a good look at the airlock.

“What’s the situation?” Winter asked over the comms.

As it came into view, the outer hull was covered in dark scorch marks from the blast, but the airlock itself remained perfectly intact.

“Negative impact,” Chase replied.

“How?” Winter asked. “Those things contain enough—”

“I know,” Chase cut her off, “but it didn’t work. We’re just going to pull back and try something else.”

He knew there was nothing else they could try. This would probably be it. The station would remain operational, serving as a command post for the hostiles in this sector, giving them an unopposed position to strike at Mellotte II and the other populated worlds of the cluster. But they’d fired their best shot. The best they could hope for now was to withdraw and try again later.

“I want everyone to proceed back to the shuttle,” Chase said.

He saw the Sutherland already making his way back with reverse thrust, followed by the others. Winter held on for a moment, distracted by something.

“Commander, I’m detecting something,” she reported.

Chase was now close enough to make eye contact with her.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Stand by,” she replied.

She looked as if she was staring blankly into space, but Chase knew she was actually reading something on her visor’s readout.

“The airlock’s activating,” she said.

Chase wasted no time moving back into position. The lights on the exterior bulkhead had cycled from blue to orange. He had no idea of the significance, but a moment later, the exterior airlock opened.

“Is this a remarkable piece of luck?” Chase asked.

“No,” said Winter. “Hostiles incoming.”

“Everyone, ready weapons and prepare for hostile contact!” said Chase.

Obviously, someone had detected the explosion and was coming to investigate. It might be their only chance of getting in. Chase pulled out his gun and aimed at the door as he floated, descending towards it.

The first hostile out didn’t stand a chance. A spray of bodily fluids—whatever these things used as blood—spurted from the wound, with globules floating in all directions. The two creatures behind it were prepared and came out shooting. Chase fired his jets, withdrawing as the rest of the squad caught up with him and covered him.

The suits had armour and could withstand a direct hit, but it was still fighting in vacuum—not something to be taken lightly. Davies came around (reference Davies earlier) and took out one hostile before taking a few hits himself. Chase could pinpoint the other and take it out.

“That’s three down,” he reported.

“I’m picking up two more,” said Winter, “but I can’t see where they went.”

“Let’s get in the airlock,” said Chase.

He manoeuvred in towards it carefully, referring to his HUD for any signs of the hostiles. He came in and looked around. Winter was only moments behind him. Sparks flew as they came under fire.

“Nice work, Chase. Now we’re pinned down in here,” said Winter, taking aim and firing back.

“We’re taking fire in here. Watch yourself!” Chase told the others.

A moment later, one hostile exploded in a cloud of sparks as Sutherland and the rest of the squad closed in on the airlock, taking it out with a burst of fire.

Chase looked around. They would just be able to fit everyone inside. He looked at the panel on the interior door and hit it with his fist.

“What’re you doing?” asked Sutherland. “You don’t know what that does!”

“That’s true,” Chase replied, “but there weren’t any clear directions.”

The exterior door began to close, and a moment later, there was a steady flow of oxygen as the station pressurised.