He glanced around the control center, watching the acceleration couches activate. Each of the chairs reclined, and heavy padding expanded, almost totally covering the seat’s occupant. Calloway knew how it worked; it was a chemical reaction taking place, vastly increasing the volume of the material in the chairs. It was an ingenious system, which saved a lot of space over dedicated couches or convertible seats with storage areas for retractable cushioning.
He felt the pinch in his arm followed by the familiar bloated feeling as the drug increased his internal pressure and strengthened his cell walls. One day someone would figure a way for men to go into battle without feeling sick and half crushed to death, but for now this was the best they could do.
The ship’s AI would fight most of this battle. Once Raptor’s engines opened into a full burn, none of his crew would be able even to lift an arm to press a button or turn a lever. They’d be able to speak, barely, but that was all.
“Engage countermeasures.” Calloway’s voice was wheezy and forced, the side effect of the drugs that would keep him alive during the coming high g maneuvers.
“Engaged, captain.” The voice of the AI was calm, unaffected by the drugs now making the crew of the Raptor feel like they had the flu and a hangover at the same time. “Launching ECM buoys now.”
The ship shuddered slightly as the ECM devices were launched with considerable force. Calloway probably would have noticed if he hadn’t been cocooned in his couch, but swaddled as he was he had to rely on the AI’s announcement. The ECM buoys were small missiles that broadcast a variety of transmissions, all designed to confuse and delay the incoming missiles. Calloway had no idea if the enemy ordnance would be susceptible or not, but he’d find out soon enough.
“Launching interceptor mines now.” The AI was following the plan Calloway had programmed in previously. The ship shuddered again, harder this time, as it launched its full spread of mines into the path of the incoming missiles. A variant of the DOMB system, the mines would explode when any missiles entered range, blasting out a cloud of small metallic chunks, presumably across the path of an enemy missile. It didn’t take much mass to seriously damage a target moving at 5 or 10 percent of lightspeed. Even a projectile a few centimeters across could destroy a missile that impacted it.
Calloway gritted his teeth; he knew what was coming. When the ship’s engines fired, Raptor would accelerate at maximum, heading off in a random direction, trying to confuse the missiles’ targeting. It was hard to build enough velocity to escape, especially beginning at a standing start, but Raptor was going to do her best.
“Initiating thrust plan Gamma.” The AI made the announcement a few seconds before the engines burned, giving the human crew an instant’s warning.
Raptor shook wildly as its engines, which consumed almost 40% of its hull space, roared to life. Calloway felt the breath forced out of his lungs despite the protection of his couch and the relief provided by the drugs. It took most of his strength to breathe in and out. It was hard to think at all, and almost impossible to concentrate on anything. He was wondering, in a moderately confused state, just how much acceleration the ship’s engines were generating.
“Now accelerating at 32.7 g.” The AI’s announcement answered his question. The computer was untroubled by the massive forces torturing the crew, and its voice was calm and even as always. Raptor was now accelerating at a far higher thrust than it was designed to endure. Its reactor was running at 125%, an overage so severe there was a real chance its containment could fail, with catastrophic results. Reactors were designed to scrag and terminate the reaction if a problem developed, but at this level of output, anything was possible. The engines were blasting well past their design specs, and Calloway knew they could also fail in a number of ways, most of which would vaporize his ship in an instant. The vessel’s frame rattled and shook, enduring pressures far beyond what it was built to withstand.
Calloway lay in his couch, nearly crushed to death despite the padding all around his body. His thoughts were slow and hazy, but he tried to stay as focused as he could. He knew he was asking a lot of his ship, but it was the only way he could think of to try and survive…at least against this initial barrage.
The ship took off at an angle from the incoming volley, quickly building velocity. A number of the enemy missiles locked on to the ECM buoys, revectoring at 200g thrust to target the decoys. But almost half began to swing around and pursue Raptor. Stingray and Hornet were still powered down, hiding behind the planet and its moon. It looked like neither had been discovered yet…and that was how Calloway wanted it.
Raptor blasted toward Adelaide, as the pursuing missiles steadily closed the distance. Calloway still had a few tricks up his sleeve, but he needed to get closer to the planet, and he wasn’t sure they were going to make it. It was going to be close…very close.
“Raptor Control…” He addressed the AI by its formal designation. “Go to 130% on the reactor and increase thrust level.” That should get them there ahead of the missiles…that is unless one of the overtaxed systems failed and they briefly added a second sun to this system.
Chapter 9
“I would like to thank you all for coming on such short notice. The information I wish to share with you is far too sensitive for the normal communications networks.” It was a small Asian woman speaking. She was stylish and impeccably dressed, though age was finally catching her, and she walked with a cane now. Her already small frame was frail and bony, but her eyes blazed with undiminished intelligence. She looked completely harmless, but such an assumption would have been extraordinarily erroneous. Li An was as harmless as a viper in a pile of leaves. A member of the CAC Central Committee, she had been the head of C1, the CAC’s external intelligence agency, for forty years, and she was one of the most feared people on Earth, at least among those who knew who she was.
“Minister Li, I believe I speak for all present when I thank you for inviting us here and convening this meeting.” Mahmoud Al’Karesh was Li An’s counterpart in the Caliphate. The Chairman of State Security had less blood on his hands than Li An, but only because he was twenty years younger. “At the risk of speculating on the nature of your news, I believe we have all noticed some rather…shall we say…unorthodox activities on the part of the Alliance military.”
Li An maintained her emotionless smile despite her annoyance at Al’Karesh’s audacity. The Caliphate official was a guest, and in the CAC there was a code of conduct that was rigidly followed, at least on the surface. She could have written his boorishness off to ignorance, but she knew it had been deliberate. Al’Karesh was perfectly aware of CAC customs, and his speculation on the likely reason for the meeting was a clumsy effort to achieve a sort of dominance over the aged CAC spymaster. But Li An had dealt with rivals far more intelligent than Al’Karesh, and she simply ignored his rudeness. For the moment.
The CAC and the Caliphate had been bitter enemies during the Unification Wars, but a shared rivalry with the Alliance had ultimately pushed them together for almost a century of uninterrupted cooperation. The relationship had been beneficial for both powers. The Caliphate had arguably achieved at least a fleeting position as the strongest Superpower, and the CAC had gained a solid hold on third place. There was a considerable gap between the top three and the remaining Powers, and the interstellar struggle had largely become a dance between the Alliance and the Caliphate-CAC bloc. The other Powers tended to ally with either side as their interests dictated. Except for the CEL and Europa Federalis, which continued to fight their own century-long battle with only brief pauses along the way.