Snippet 12

Chapter:  Distress Call


    “The Chief Engineer reports the ship is ready to point transfer whenever you are, Admiral,” Lieutenant Tremblay reported, then bit his lip.   “He’s calling it a miracle of engineering, but it should get the job done.  I have to say I’ve never seen or heard of a successful point transfer involving two ships of the same weight within one hyperspace bubble, Admiral.  As far as I know, not even the Imperials have tried something like this.  As the ship’s XO  I’d like to go on record and point out that this could be a very serious mistake, sir.”

    “Of course.  Thank you for your advice, First Officer.  However, I have the utmost confidence in our Chief Engineer.  If he says this configuration will work, then I’m sure it will turn out fine.”  I was anything but 'fine' with it, but we had to get moving.

    Lieutenant Tremblay looked worried but didn’t say anything further.

    I suppose the battle armor I had once again donned might have had something to do with my first officer’s lack of continued debate.  I wasn’t a  trained officer, but even I knew that this bastard abortion the chief engineer had created by hooking up two different parts of two different star drives couldn’t be the best idea in the world.  But it was too late to back out now.  I was committed.

    I had promised the crew their prize money.  I had diverted the ship’s course away the direction advised by trained ship’s officers.  I had to succeed and be seen to succeed or I was as good as dead.  That’s why I had put back on the power armor for this point transfer and locked down the bulkheads with my command crystal.  Nothing was going to stop me or this ship.  I would return home victorious with two heavy cruisers in hand or not at all.  It was all down to this moment, victory or death.

    The only thing left to do was wait for the count down.  I sighed as the ship’s Star Drive charged past the point of no return.  Everything was set, the Navigator was present and the point transfer calculated hours ago, long before they had even activated the star drive.  A few minor calculations after that and there had been nothing to do but wait until they transferred.  I was about to return to my quarters and change back into the old Confederate  Admiral’s uniform when one of the crew stationed in the communications section spoke up.

    “I have an external transmission from the FTL communications network.  Its an emergency signal, Sir!”  called out the communications tech.  He paused.  “Its a settlement ship based out of Capria, sir.  She says her escort is under attack by Pirates!”

    “What?!”  I realized both First Officer Tremblay and myself had exclaimed at the same time.

    “How far away is she,” I demanded.

    While Tremblay muttered, “I’ll go check on the Settler Manifest,” before heading over to the communications officer for help retrieving the information.

    “She’s within our official range, according to the spec’s in the Navigation Computer,” the Navigator said doubtfully.  “But with the non-standard configuration of our hyper-bubble and the extra load we’re carrying, I’m not sure…”

    It sounded like the communications officer was reporting to Tremblay that they must have lost the manifest on the settlement ship when the Imperials purged the distributed computer system of Imperial software and upgrades.  There was too much commotion to hear their conversation clearly, but the First Officer didn’t look pleased.

    “Why does the colonial manifest matter?” I asked, looking at Tremblay.  I hoped I wasn’t missing something critical because of my lack of naval training.

    “To find out whether or not the colonists are from Capria,” Tremblay said simply.

    “Why would that matter?  Thousands of helpless colonists are under attack.  They could be slaughtered, their ship captured or even taken as slaves by the pirates!”  I realized I had spoken before thinking.  It wasn't as though I was ashamed of the sentiment I had just expressed.  As someone who dreamed of shipping out to a new colony, I could identify with the plight of anyone stuck onboard a helpless settlement ship at the mercy of pirates.  Escort, or no escort.

    Tremblay’s face was stiff.  “This is a Caprian system defense ship.  It’s our duty to defend the people of Capria, not the various populations of the universe at large.  Right now we desperately need to get home, not go sticking our noses into every little brush fire out on the edge of known space.”

    I couldn't help but stare at him wide-eyed.  I was unable to believe I had just heard those words come out of the former intelligence officer’s mouth.

    Looking a little defensive for perhaps the first time, the First Officer added, “They said they have an escort, its not like this settlement ship is completely defenseless.”

    I came to a sudden decision and deliberately hardened my face.  I didn’t care what it took or what I had to say, that settlement ship needed help.   “Mr. Tremblay, and anyone else on this bridge who feels the same way, listen well.  I’m only going to say this once,” I raised my voice so everyone could hear clearly.

    “This is the flag ship of a multi-sector patrol fleet, one sponsored and organized by the Confederation.  We are no longer simply a Caprian SDF ship.   If we won’t go to the aid of an unarmed starship carrying upwards of a hundred thousand settlers and colonist, then who in the whole sector will?”  I paused  to let the words sink in, then finished, “As long as I am Admiral, this ship will do its duty.”

    I refused to look around and poll the bridge crew.  This was the right thing to do and any lingering doubts I might have had about forcing the crew to make a dangerous hyper transfer in the name of prize money were gone.  This was no longer about prize money.  This was about saving lives.  “Navigator, set a new course.  We’re going to rescue those settlers.”  Suddenly, a tension I hadn’t even known I was carrying melted away.

    The Navigator dragged his heels and Officer Tremblay still tried to argue me out of this sudden course change.  But I could tell their hearts weren’t in it.  They were mostly concerned for the safety of the ship, not avoiding the pirates, so I tried not to lose my temper.  My mind was made up and I was deaf to their pleas.

    After ordering the two medium cruisers to follow us to the new coordinates sent by the settlement ship, all I could do was watch his bridge crew as they made a new set of calculations.

    “Sir,” reminded Officer Tremblay, “our Navigator already ran over to the converted pirate freighter once, to calculate their point transfer.  He won’t have time to both plot a new course for us and then shuttle on over there again before we jump.”

    "Tell one of the medium cruisers to send over a Navigator to plot the course," I answered with a wave of my hand.  It was frustrating that the Lucky Clover didn’t have the trained personnel to deal with it ourselves but at least we’d still have a small Caprain away crew on the converted pirate ship to keep an eye on the Promethean navigator.

    Navigator Shepherd was sweating profusely by the time he declared the coordinates locked in for the new point transfer.  I was thankful for the extended recharge time of the old ship’s Star Drive.  It gave us lots of time to make changes to their course, even after we had passed the point of no return and were committed to making a point transfer.

    When I was certain we were actually locked to go save the colonists from pirates, it occurred to me to ask about our missing weaponry.

    Rearming the ship had been a top priority up until I had learned that the pirate cruiser was having trouble with its Star Drive.  After that, I had stopped worrying about everything else and suspected engineering had done the same.

    Lieutenant Tremblay looked appalled at the question and immediately ordered a direct line to the Chief Engineer.  He had just got the Chief Engineer on the line and was still at a com-console with Lieutenant Spalding when the ship broke through hyperspace.


The Deposed King