With Our Dying Breath Page 4

  Oswald smiled and floated above his couch, flipping through the status reports from each of the Roland's departments. Software defined operations allowed the flight commander to physically position his crew as they desired; Oswald liked having all the flight crew with him.

  Everything was looking ready, but he knew that even though a station or section might mark their checklist as complete something was always being finished up. He put on his headset.

  " Roland," Oswald announced into the intercom. "Be sure all departments are ready for main burn within the hour."

  "Ranger, this is flight. Are you plugged in, Major?"

  "Roger that," Luskin's response was quick. "Just sitting here in the lander with the guys."

  "Just sitting is what we do best. We'll be ready for departure soon. We'll set up an operations net, please join in and make sure your guys are ready."

  "Roger that, Colonel."

  The hour passed quickly and the Roland started to belong to the crew once again. It was always like catching up with an old friend. They had run simulations planetside to maintain operational familiarity, but seeing her from the inside, rubbing against the rough interiors, and smelling that old rocket smell really brought it back to the real world. "Think it's about time, Hashi?"

  "Sir, yes I do," Hashi answered from the Auxiliary Control pod in his usual prim and proper French accent. Oswald had heard it joked that Hashi was the commander's unflappable butler. He would never slight his Aux that way, but it was true in a sense. They had worked together for years and Hashi was a very calming presence. McFarran attributed it to his appreciation of culture and civilization, which always soothed the savage breast.

  "Shall I establish operations net one, sir?"

  "Let's," Oswald answered.

  "All department heads join operations net," Hashi announced over the intercom a second later.

  Oswald connected to the net and waited for the display to indicate all the departments had joined. He looked a final time at the pre-flight check lists and saw that each department still showed green.

  "Sir, operations net number one, NBR-57, Roland, established flight commander. Time has been noted and logged."

  "Very good, Aux," Oswald said. "MCC hasn't called for burn yet but it sure has been long enough. All departments declare status."

  "Life support?"

  "Go."

  "Engineering?"

  "Go."

  "Tactical?"

  "Go for flight."

  "Comms and Data?"

  "Go."

  "Astrogation?"

  "Good to go."

  "Rangers?"

  "Ready to go, Colonel."

  "Flight?"

  "We are go, sir!"

  "Command?"

  "Command is go, sir," Hashi answered calmly.

  "Flight Commander shows good for burn," Oswald intoned back. "MCC this is Roland. All departments are ready for flight. Please relay status, MCC."

  "Roland this is MCC. All telemetry is up and up." Anahita answered. "Standby, Triumph is having some difficulty with her weapons payload. Your status is logged as ready, standby to initiate departure burn."

  The Roland stood by for two more hours until Anahita tersely ordered Baker to make his rocket ready for departure at once.

  Oswald had already downloaded the flight package and checked the plotted vector. The squadron would feign a Hohmann transfer orbit and jet out to the edge of Earth's gravity limit and jump. He knew well that no plan survives contact with the enemy.

  "Command, this is astrogation." Lieutenant Major Breen spoke over the net.

  "Go, Astro."

  "Sir, I've been trying to run this jump tunnel plot—"

  "Breen!" McFarran interrupted sternly. "Your department has reported ready for over an hour."

  "Yes, sir. The jump computer is programmed and verifies the checksum. I just can't place these coordinates." Breen sounded more curious than confused. "These coordinates have never been logged by Roland. Nor are they in the most recent astrogation update."

  "True enough, Astro," Oswald said apologetically. "Need to know. I'll tell you when we get there. I will say," he added with a low whistle, "that you will be amazed."

  "So you weren't kidding about this being a special trip?"

  "Not in the least."

  They sat in silence for about ten minutes when Anahita's voice came over the net. "MCC to Roland, make ready for departure burn in one minute. Once things get started, I probably won't be talking much to you guys personally. I'll be a bit busy." Oswald could imagine her easy smile. "Godspeed, Roland. Make sure you make it home safely. No stops at the pub on the way home."

  "Roger that MCC. Time, Terrain, and Trajectory logged for mission start." Oswald announced to the crew over the intercom and via IC chat, "Roland is ready for burn."

  "Here we go, sir." Aux announced. Oswald could feel the g's pressing him into his couch as the tug rockets fired. The control station's gimbals slowly rolled so that each crewman felt the acceleration on their backs.

  "Now we sit back like monkeys in a missile," tactical officer Lieutenant Major Asher Mathesse commented wryly. The man had a Lucky Star with two diamonds in it and had little care over what his tongue said, regardless of who might be listening.

  "Roger that, Tactical." There was nothing else for the flight commander to say.

  +++ At mission start plus two hours the tug rockets detached from Roland and assumed a recovery orbit. At mission plus three hours the tugs docked with orbital maintenance station OMS-12 for repair and refuel. At mission plus five hours, MCC formed the squadron into an inverted V formation with the Roland at the rear. At mission plus six hours the promised squadron of warheads and drones from Earth Force orbital defense batteries took up an intercept formation ahead of and around the squadron. At mission plus eight hours MCC verified multiple jump signatures and an enemy force just outside of Earth's gravity limit, directly in the path of Oswald's squadron.

  Chapter 5

  "Command, this is Flight." It was Norris speaking into his ear. Oswald pressed the small transmit button on his headset; he hadn't even taken it off when he tried unsuccessfully to catch a few winks before crossing the jump threshold—and a likely Centauri ambush. "Go, Flight."

  "Sir, MCC reports multiple jump indications and a cluster of heat signatures at our plotted jump threshold. Sensors verify." Nerves crept into her usually jovial voice. Oswald took a deep breath to keep them out of his.

  "Understood, Flight. How close, Hashi?"

  "Sir, very close. As usual." There was a hint of admiration in the Aux's voice. "Right on the threshold and right in our way."

  "Someday we'll figure out how to do that." Oswald hoped so

  anyway. "Issue alert status, Roland to hazard stations."

  "Yes, sir."

  As Oswald pulled himself from his sleep tube and snatched his tablet

  from its sleeve the alert sounded.

  "Roland to hazard stations, Roland to hazard stations. All crew don

  vacc-suits. All crew don vacc-suits." A klaxon sounded twice and the

  message repeated over speakers, headsets, and tablets.

  A handful of crewmen slid out of the hive and hurriedly pulled

  themselves into the main passage and towards their hazard stations.

  The last was about to leave the compartment when he noticed Oswald

  floating nearby.

  "Sir? Is it a drill?"

  "I'm afraid not, Lieutenant Stungart." Oswald tried to sound

  nonchalant. "It looks like someone in the Centauri high command has

  taken issue with our little outing."

  Oswald's smile was not returned; the color immediately drained

  from Stungart's face. The man was bright with high evaluations from EF

  academy, but this was his first tour on in space.

  "Get to your station, Lieutenant, and do your job. You do your job

  and we'll pull through." Oswald's manner
was not severe but serious.

  "If you can't help Roland get back in bed."

  "Yes, sir!" Stungart was halfway out the hatch when he suddenly

  bent double to look at Oswald. "I mean yes, sir that I'll do my job. Not

  going to bed."

  Oswald smiled. "I know you will. Go." Stungart struggled to get

  himself unbent and popped into the passage. Oswald quickly surveyed

  the beehive to make sure no one had missed the alert. His smiling

  façade fell away seeing that he was alone; he put their chance of being

  spaced in the next two hours at somewhere between likely and pretty

  high. But he believed his old friend in MCC when she said she'd see him

  through.

  By the time Oswald made it into the flight pod, everyone else was in

  their vacc-suits. They were not the slim, flexible vacc-suits used for EVA

  but bulky armored suits designed to protect against the effects of highpowered spacecraft weaponry and other violent space phenomena.

  They certainly wouldn't save anyone from a direct hit but they could

  help with the secondary effects of weapon strikes such as heat flashes,

  high-velocity debris, atmospheric evacuation, and radiation. The names

  of the crewmen had been stenciled in large phosphorescent letters on

  the front and back.

  "Flight Commander on station," Lieutenant Chun announced. There

  was no chatter when Oswald entered this time. He pulled his own vaccsuit on; legs, torso, then helmet. Once he was secured in the flight

  couch, Oswald brought the displays up on his visor. He swiped his

  fingers across the couch's flat panel and the suit translated the motions

  to his visor.

  "Aux, let’s get a net up."

  "Right away, sir." McFarran announced the net and immediately all

  department heads showed connected. Oswald called for readiness

  status and each answered, Go.

  "MCC this is Roland. Flight Commander reporting all departments

  are ready for action. Please relay status, MCC." He was looking at the

  display from the Roland's sensors but they were limited compared to

  everything the MCC could pull together.

  "Roland this is MCC Sensor." It wasn't Anahita, it was another

  professional-sounding woman with a hint of a Hispanic accent. "At this

  time we have detected six unregistered jump tunnel entries into Sol

  system. The presence of six Centauri craft has been confirmed by

  thermal and optical scan on intercept course with Roland squadron." "Roland, this is MCC Flight," a man's voice this time. His tone

  sounded professional to the point of disinterest. "Telemetry indicates

  your engine is ready for burn. We are lighting your LANTRn to begin

  maneuvers. Vector plot should now be available to you." The engine

  status flared to indicate that LANTRn burn had been initiated and

  Oswald's backside agreed.

  The navigation display updated with the new tracks from MCC and

  Oswald swiped his finger to rotate the display on all axes. He had no

  authority to deviate from the MCC flight plan but Oswald always liked

  to know his options. The flight computer gave new projection tracks as

  he adjusted Roland's possible flight parameters. After a few minutes

  Oswald had a visual representation of the likely vectors Anahita had

  given the squadron and the Roland in particular.

  Oswald noted a small vector track near the estimated jump point

  and zoomed in. The Augmented Information Display showed it to be a

  slow moving craft and then pulled information from EF databases

  including a photographic overlay and list of operators.

  "Looks like we have some sort of ion powered transport near the

  jump." The data track showed that it had changed course away from

  the invading squadron. "Looks like an unmanned put-put. My AID isn't

  showing any manifest or operator info. Tactical, see if you can fill in the

  blanks."

  "Pretty much as you said, Command." Mathesse had obviously

  already been looking into it, as his reply was quick as ever. Just enough of a delay for him to double-check what he'd already found out. "Unmanned ion transport. Designation ITU-46. MCC says the flight plan is registered and they have the vector plot since it left orbit. They were unconcerned about providing any manifest but scans show its pods are

  hauling some major cryo."

  "Sir, perhaps volatiles?" McFarran offered. "I hope it isn't hauling

  any EF supplies. I don't suspect it will make its final destination." "Roger that, Tactical." Oswald was already looking for other target

  tracks. "Let's just make sure we keep it in mind for our firing solutions." "Obviously."

  Oswald could hear McFarran inhale, loading himself up to

  reprimand Mathesse. Thinking of the upcoming battle, an important

  detail popped into his mind just in time to keep calm on his net.

  "Command to Rangers."

  "Go, Colonel," Luskin answered.

  "Are your guys in vacc-suits?" Oswald couldn't remember any

  manifest for extra suits.

  "We have our battle-suits for the mission, Colonel. Special Service

  decided they'd do."

  "Roger that, Rangers." He hoped SS was right about that. Oswald

  couldn't believe he'd missed that detail. He didn't like being caught offguard due to poor planning or memory. "Hopefully we won't have to

  test their theory."

  "And now here are our contestants for the Waiting Game!"

  Mathesse sang over the net. He then launched into the intro song to

  the popular game show, Dikki's Dozenz, which was decidedly not about

  waiting but did have a very catchy jingle.

  "Sir. Might I say that the only thing more deplorable than waiting as

  hapless passengers on a battle rocket," McFarran said stuffily, obviously

  a bit annoyed at having his righteous rant stifled by his commanding

  officer, "is having to do so while being subjected to a bad song sung

  badly."

  Oswald held his laughter, but not everyone did. Mathesse made a

  derisive snort. "I guess having so-called class doesn't mean you know

  what's good." His tone dripped with mock offense. "Being as you don't

  want to listen to me, I guess I won't point out that the Centauri

  intercept tracks are getting longer—they've started their burn." Oswald noticed, and he suspected most others had too. "And there

  go the first half of the remotes." The tracks for part of the drones

  suddenly jumped in length as MCC fired off their rockets.

  "And the Triumph," McFarran noted.

  The track display for the Triumph was growing and it pulled out in

  front, leaving the three ships in a staggered formation with Roland still

  in the rear. The escort rocket was fast and well-armed; Oswald believed

  Anahita was using her as the point of the knife. Four remote tracks

  separated from each of the two other spacecraft, speeding towards the

  Centauri. Twenty-three new tracks blossomed from the Centauri fleet. "Time to first engagement, Tactical?" Oswald asked.

  "Estimated pass for remotes is one hour, fifteen minutes," Mathesse

  answered immediately; the man knew his job despite his sometime

  disagreeable tongue. "Second pass for the reserves to still be in the

  firing window will be right at two hours. Anything that makes it through

  will be in threat range ten minutes later." He paused as MCC updated

  the target tracks. "A
nd we'll be in knife fighting range in two hours,

  forty-five minutes, Command."

  "Right at the jump threshold, sir." McFarran noted. "The Centauri

  definitely know how to add and subtract it seems."

  "And it seems they know when we're launching missions," Luskin

  added. "Must be watching us pretty close."

  "Roger that." Oswald knew Luskin was referring to Will's suspicions.

  "Now we wait some more. All departments cycle your crew through the

  wasters. Life Support, get some chow to anyone who feels like they can

  hold it down." Oswald declined for himself.

  Chapter 6 Space battles were nothing like the vids Oswald had grown up watching. Every spacecraft radiated easily detectable heat signatures and targeting computers were very accurate. At great distances light lag affected accuracy and power of directed energy weapons but within the combat range of such lasers evasive maneuvers were not very effective.

  Oswald had been in many space battles in his two decades of service. With experience came the ability to put forth a visage of calm. But his secret was the acceptance that for most battles the outcome had been determined before the first shots were fired. His was not a nihilistic or fatalistic view, simply a realistic one. Battle plans of course had to sometimes be changed on short notice but once the deltaV had been spent and the vectors set, all possible outcomes and flight paths were quickly determined by powerful computers and targeting solutions were generated. The crew became passengers on a great space coaster, essentially unable to change their tracks. They had even less of an illusion of input when MCC was flying the rocket.

  If you could hit them with a laser array, they could hit you. If a spacecraft had limited deltaV, it had limited tactical maneuvers available, making it easy to target. Even if a ship had spare deltaV (a rare occurrence) inertia was not overcome easily nor was momentum forgiving after the battle.

  Oswald watched as the first wave of remotes engaged. The tactical display indicated spikes in photonic refraction, nuclear detonations, hard x-rays, and EMP generators. He waited to see if Anahita had any plans to use the exchange to hide anything.