The 11 th Squadron had been on station for almost two months, running silent in the far reaches of the Gamma Trianguli Australis system. That was a long time to endure zero gravity, minimal life support, and cold food. Jarvis was particularly concerned about keeping her people busy and focused. Her crew was mostly green…new recruits fresh from training. All of her officers except for the XO were on their initial postings out of the Academy. Even she was on her first command mission, plucked from her berth as tactical officer on a cruiser to captain Broadsword. Fast attack ships were very different from cruisers and capital ships, and she was still going through an adjustment period. The suicide boat commanders usually came up organically through that branch of the service. But Admiral Garret had been able to get new attack ships off the production line a lot faster than larger vessels, and there weren’t enough experienced crews to go around.
Gamma, as the crew had taken to abbreviating the system’s name, was a fairly worthless piece of real estate. It had three planets…two gas giants and a single rocky world so devoid of useful resources it had been bypassed by every colonization expedition in the fifty years since it was discovered.
What Gamma did possess, however, was a particularly dense cloud of dust, gasses, and small asteroids, coincidentally located very close to one of its two warp gates…the one leading deeper into the Rim. The one Admiral West expected the enemy to burst through on their way to Farpoint.
Jarvis didn’t know when – or if – the enemy would arrive, but she was determined that her people would be ready. Their mission was a simple one, at least on paper - ambush the enemy warships right after they transited. With luck they might catch them with antimatter weapons deployed on their external mounts…and if they did they might be able to pick off a ship or two and wear down the forces headed for Farpoint.
After the attack they would head out into deep space, trying to escape before the enemy could hit them back. They wouldn’t have any velocity to start, but they’d be heading in a vector opposite the enemy’s. Any ships detached to pursue her vessel would have to decelerate first and then re-accelerate in the right direction. It gave her a chance, at least, to get away. And if she didn’t, any ships that split off to chase her tiny craft would be pulled away from the Farpoint attack force. That wasn’t a particularly attractive option for Broadsword’s crew, but she could see the tactical effectiveness of the overall plan.
She was just about to climb into the shower when Broadsword’s klaxon sounded. Damn, she thought…that couldn’t have waited ten minutes? She pulled herself back to the changing area and slid back into her combat suit. The new naval suits were fairly comfortable and snug-fitting, very unlike the bulkier things in use when she’d served on her first ship. But with the helmet on, the suit could keep a person alive, even in deep space…at least until the batteries wore down.
Jarvis sealed up the suit, all except for the helmet. She felt grimy and uncomfortable – she’d worked up quite a sweat during her workout, and the cold air of the ship had just made things worse…clammy and uncomfortable. If this was the enemy coming in-system she could be in this suit for weeks, and this was no way to start that kind of marathon.
It was always difficult to get around in zero gravity, but she had enough experience to make her way quickly to the bridge. Most of her crew were having a tougher time navigating the mag-boots and handholds. They’d all manage, but she didn’t kid herself – working at zero-gee degraded the crew’s performance.
She made her way slowly forward – the bridge was just down the main corridor from Broadsword’s tiny gym. She still wasn’t used to the cramped quarters on the fast attack ship. It’s not that cruisers were spacious – no spaceships were – but Broadsword was a tenth the size of her last posting. The suicide boat crews were typically subjected to psych screening to cull out those least suited to working in such close proximity, but since the rebellion Admiral Garret had been without the luxury of such considerations. He was strapped enough getting his ships crewed, and some of the old luxuries fell by the wayside. Jarvis felt a touch claustrophobic herself – she suspected she’d never have passed the old screening.
She pulled herself through the hatch onto Broadsword’s small bridge. “Ensign Garravick, report.” The control center of the ship consisted of her command chair and four small workstations. The ceiling of the tiny room was crisscrossed with conduits and other obstructions, giving it a jumbled, unfinished look.
“Energy emissions from the warp gate, captain.” Garravick was fresh out of the Academy, but he sounded sharp.
This would be his first time in battle…it would be the first time for most of Jarvis’ people, and she was watching them all closely. She’d tried to get her best read on them, but she knew she couldn’t be sure how they’d perform under fire until they faced the enemy. Most captains would put their most experienced officers on the bridge, but Jarvis had four fresh grads manning her workstations. She could keep an eye on them here…she wanted the few seasoned people she had keeping watch over the rest of her green crew.
“Very well. Monitor the scanning net.” The squadron had deployed a web of scanner buoys around the warp gate. “All crew to the couches.” They should all be in their positions already – she’d had a standing order for crew members to report to their acceleration couches when the klaxon sounded. But they were inexperienced, and she wanted to make sure. She didn’t want to lose anyone because they were slow getting set for acceleration.
“Yes, captain.” A brief pause. “All crew members report they are in their couches.
Good, Jarvis thought. So far they’re all on the ball. “Advise Engineer Hinkle to prepare for crash reactor startup. They’d been keeping the reactor offline, only starting it up every three or four days to charge the batteries. Fusion reactors had multiple levels of safeguards, but a crash start was risky…it had to be done just right or the reactor could be damaged. Or worse.
“Yes, captain. Engineer Hinkle reports he is read…” Garravick turned his head quickly from his screen to face Jarvis. “Enemy vessels entering the system!” He was still under control, but she could feel his tension amp up. “Two Gargoyles…no, three.” The designation Colonel Sparks and his team had given the larger enemy vessels had stuck.
Jarvis could feel her own stomach clench. She was always tense in combat, of course, but this was worse. There was something different about this enemy…something haunting. “Have Broadsword Control plot an intercept vector.” The ship’s primary AI would handle the calculations and execute the engine burn to build the necessary velocity. Jarvis and her crew would be cocooned in their couches getting squeezed half to death.
“The enemy is coming in hot…velocity 0.7c.” Garravick had turned back to his workstation, and his eyes were fixed on the screen. “More vessels transiting now, captain.”
Good, she thought. Broadsword was positioned back from the warp gate, which gave her enough room to maneuver in for a shot. The enemy ships would have a hard time reacting…even with their higher general thrust capacity. Seven percent of lightspeed was fast…and it would take a long time to meaningfully alter that vector. Broadsword would have her chance…as long as the ECM let her get close enough. “Launch ECM missiles. Crash start reactor.”
Broadsword lurched as her six multi-section ECM devices launched. They would spread out and divide into ten components, each broadcasting electronic signals comparable to a ship of Broadsword’s class. Instead of one target, the enemy would have to find Jarvis’ ship among 60 fakes.