Rise of Nimrod Fleet (The Contingency War Book 3) Page 15

  “Collision with Mining Freighter Alpha in sixty seconds,” came the droning voice of the secondary pilot simulant.

  Whether it was the relative difference in pain levels or the effect of the volatile concoction of medications she had pumped into her system, Adra was starting to feel strong again. She stepped down from the command platform and marched towards the front of the bridge, pushing the primary pilot simulant from its chair and sitting down in its place. She assumed manual control and carefully adjusted the trajectory of the frigate as well as the angle and position of its hawk-like wings, but she did not reduce her rate of approach.

  “Collision imminent,” said the secondary pilot simulant with a detached aloofness that made what should have been a dire warning sound like a routine status update.

  Adra knew they were still on a collision course; she intended to collide with the racketeer ship. But this was no suicide run. Adra sat back in the stark metal-framed chair and peered up at the viewport as the frigate’s wing sliced between the racketeer ship and the freighter with the precision of a samurai decapitating a defeated general. The sudden, explosive decompression pushed the freighter and racketeer ships apart, sending the latter into a frenzied spin, while the freighter lurched off, spilling its remaining cargo of metal ore into space like blood from an opened vein. Seconds later the damaged racketeer ship exploded, casting a bright orange glow across the bridge and stinging Adra’s eyes, but she did not blink, or even squint.

  Taking the controls again, Adra initiated a hard deceleration, spinning the War Frigate around to face the escort ship, whose pursuit had carried it towards the collision site and exactly where she wanted it to be. The smaller ship had also turned and was desperately trying to alter course to escape, but it was like a race between a single-engine turboprop and a jet fighter. The smaller ship simply did not have the power to save itself.

  Adra always enjoyed trying to imagine what was going through the minds of her enemies at the moment the inevitability of their defeat and death became clear. By now the crew of this little racketeer ship would know they could not escape, and would be panicking, and maybe even fighting amongst themselves. The captain would be aware that Warfare Command would offer the chance to surrender, because it preferred to parade criminals and traitors as examples to others who would consider defying their authority. It would soon send a message of surrender to the frigate and then its captain – as other racketeer scum had done before – would arrogantly demand a trial, believing that it would at least save their skins. But Adra had wasted enough time on these parasites already.

  She pushed herself out of the pilot’s chair and marched back to the command platform, twisting the screen she had lowered earlier to face her. The communications station chimed and the simulant stationed there read out the message from the racketeer ship, exactly as she had expected. Predictable… Pathetic… Adra thought as she locked the main plasma cannons on to the vessel. The communications console chimed again, but Adra was not interested in talking. She tapped the screen and fired, before watching on the viewport as the jagged shards of plasma ripped through the racketeer vessel, reducing it to atoms and molten fragments of metal in seconds.

  Adra waved the screen away and then picked up her armored jacket and coat from the deck and put them both back on. “Clear up this mess,” she said out loud, not directing the command to any simulant in particular, but soon the severed arms of the medical simulant along with its crippled body were being removed from the bridge.

  With the Priority One dealt with, Adra was now free to continue her search for the rogue Hunter Corvette and simulants. And though the trail had gone cold, if she was correct about their desire to rescue a Satomi Rose unit, then she knew where to pick up the search.

  “Access the CoreNet and map the locations of any remaining Satomi Rose simulants,” Adra called out. “Monitor each location for signs of the signal anomaly and alert me at once if any incursion is detected.” There was a monosyllabic reply from one of the simulant stations, but Adra paid it no attention and turned to leave, intending to get some rest to allow her battered body to heal. Even she knew there were limits to how much punishment her brain and nervous system could endure. But she could not wait too long before continuing her search, because she also knew that, sooner or later, Warfare Command would order her back to the home world to explain her actions.

  She reached the edge of the command platform, before another alert sounded on the bridge, this time from the tactical station. Adra stopped and then stared up at the halo of screens. “Report!” she bellowed.

  “Three vessels have entered the system,” droned the tactical simulant.

  “Racketeers?”

  “Negative. All are Warfare Command vessels. Transceiver signals identify two Corvus-class cruisers and one War Carrier.”

  “A War Carrier?” said Adra, with a sudden sense of foreboding. “Show me.”

  The image on the viewport switched to show the three approaching ships. The Corvus cruisers were powerful, despite their age, and one of the mainstays of the empire’s battle armada, but they were still less than half the size of Adra’s frigate. The War Carrier, however, was something else entirely. Four times the size of even Adra’s goliath vessel, it was Warfare Command’s flagship. There was only one War Carrier in operation, and only one with the rank of high provost could command such as vessel. Adra knew immediately that its presence in the system meant only one thing – that her hunt had come to an end.

  The communications console chimed and the simulant stationed there read the message out loud. “Message received from War Carrier,” the simulant intoned dully. “Message reads: by order of High Provost Kagan, power down and prepare to be boarded.”

  TWENTY-SIX

  Sonner swung open the door and sauntered into the room without knocking. The office that Collins had commandeered would have belonged to the Group Commander of the Contingency base, should he have survived stasis, but the new Colonel already appeared quite at home. He was busy unpacking two storage containers that he’d had shipped across from the transport. Many of the items were personal in nature, such as framed photographs of himself and someone Sonner assumed to be his wife, and others of teenaged children – a boy and a girl. She hadn’t even considered that Collins might have had a family, and she felt a sudden sadness and sympathy for the man, knowing that they were all now long-dead.

  “Nice photos,” said Sonner, standing just inside the door. This appeared to startle Colonel Collins and he jerked around to look at her, before picking up one of the photos that was lying face up and turning it over so that Sonner couldn’t see it anymore.

  “It’s protocol to knock before entering,” grumbled Colonel Collins, hurriedly arranging some of the items on the desk, before closing the lid of the container and facing Sonner. “Protocol is clearly something you’ve had no need for recently, but if we’re to fight this campaign, we need to start operating like a military unit again.”

  The response immediately put Sonner on edge and any sympathy she’d felt melted away. She’d attempted an ice-breaker, something to perhaps begin their meeting on a more personal level, but Collins had just shut her down and shut her out. It seemed clear that he wasn’t interested in her as an advisor or as an equal. He saw her as a threat, and any commander that was unwilling to listen to advise was a danger.

  “When you arrived on the Contingency base, what did you see, Colonel?” asked Sonner, keeping her voice level.

  Collins frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Were the docking procedures in operation? Was your ship guided to its correct pad? Were your crew met on arrival and the correct safety and unloading procedures applied?”

  “Well, yes, everything appeared to be as expected,” said Collins, becoming flustered.

  “And the fleet of Nimrods, have you managed to inspect them?” Sonner went on.

  “Not every one of them, of course,” Collins replied, crabbily, “but I spoke to the deck chi
ef who said they have all been made space-worthy and ready for combat.”

  “And have you reviewed the flight crew rosters and simulator training plans?” Sonner went on, but Collins had already grown tired and frustrated with her questions.

  “Do you have a point, Commander?” he snapped.

  “My point, Colonel, is that this base is already operating as a unit,” Sonner hit back, unable to keep a lid on her own frustrations, “and it was long before you arrived. Yet here you are talking to me like I’m some damn rookie and that everything is a shambles.”

  Collins straightened and lifted his chin a little, while keeping his narrowed eyes focused on Sonner. She silently cursed herself, knowing she’d again pushed him too hard.

  “I understand it must be difficult for you to accept my command,” Collins began, though the formal delivery conveyed no suggestion of any emotional empathy for Sonner’s position, “and I appreciate all that you have done to get us to this point.”

  Here’s comes the but... Sonner thought.

  “But this operation is now under my command,” Collins continued. “You can either accept my authority or not, but if you do not I will have you relieved.” Then he stepped around the deck and stood directly in front of Sonner. “To choose that course of action would, however, show extreme selfishness. There are so few of us left, and we cannot afford to lose an officer with your skillset.”

  Sonner held her ground, but bit her tongue. Of all the things he could accuse her of, selfishness was one of the more absurd and insulting. She pressed her hands behind her back, which was all she could do to stop herself from strangling him.

  “Follow my orders and, against my better judgement, I will permit the simulants you have supposedly awakened…” Collins made the inverted commas gesture with his fingers as he said ‘awakened, “…to continue operating the captured enemy Corvette.” Sonner was now really struggling to fight the urge to throttle the Colonel. “But you are responsible for them. Any suggestion that they could compromise this operation and they will be destroyed, and you will be held accountable.”

  “You would be dead if it weren’t for Captain Ray and the others, Colonel,” seethed Sonner, “I would strongly urge you to bear that in mind.” Then before Collins could come back at her, she added, “That being said, I will accept your command, Colonel.” This took Collins by surprise, and the suggestion of a smile curled his whiskery lips, but Sonner hadn’t finished, “But I will do what needs to be done to ensure the success of the Contingency. This isn’t about petty squabbles over rank. This isn’t about me or you. It’s about life and death and ensuring the human race has both a future and a home.”

  “I am aware of that, Commander,” replied Collins, pressing his shoulders back slightly to puff out his chest, “But so long as we follow the plans that were laid out by the Contingency Council then we will be victorious. Of that I have no doubt whatsoever.”

  Sonner folded her arms and shook her head. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, “You can’t be serious? Your plan is to execute a strategy that was devised over three hundred years ago?”

  Sonner’s confrontational stance and delivery made Collins bristle again. She might as well have asked, ‘Are you a complete moron?’ The Colonel backed away behind his desk, as if placing it between them helped to reinforce his superiority and solidify the barrier of understanding that already separated them. “These plans were drawn up by better strategic minds than mine, and certainly far better than yours...” Sonner’s eyes widened and her fists clenched, though Collins couldn’t see as they were still tucked tightly under her arms, “It would be foolish to think that we could do any better. This is our best chance.”

  “Those plans are centuries out of date, Colonel,” said Sonner, utterly exasperated at the need to explain this to him, “and so are you.”

  “Commander, I will not warn you again…” Collins began, but Sonner wasn’t finished.

  “That wasn’t meant as an insult, Colonel, merely a fact. In the time that you and I have been in stasis the Hedalt Empire has grown even stronger. Their ships are bigger and more powerful – I know, because I have fought them and barely escaped with my life.” Sonner unfolded her arms and held up a clenched fist to Collins, which initially made him flinch. But instead of trying to punch him, Sonner simply began counting off reasons why following a centuries-old battle plan was a terrible idea. “One, we don’t know their numbers; two, we don’t know the fleet strength at Earth; three, we don’t know how many of these frigates they have, or if they have more powerful vessels that we’ve not yet seen; four, we don’t know what orbital defenses they may have...”

  “Enough, Commander!” snapped Collins. “We don’t have the luxury of time. Having read your reports, it’s obvious the enemy knows we are out here. They will be expecting an attack against Earth and will be preparing their defenses. If we wait, we lose any hope of taking them by surprise and surprise is our best weapon.”

  “We’ve already lost the element of surprise…” Sonner argued, trying to interrupt, but Collins was no longer listening.

  “We go in fast and hard and take out their defenses before they have a chance to react. We will cripple their forces at Earth and then blockade the planet against further attack. We leave them without the capability to respond. That was and still is the plan.”

  “It’s a bad plan, Colonel,” Sonner answered. She was more despondent than angry. “And it will get us all killed.”

  “Another word, Commander Sonner and you will be relieved!” roared Collins. His shouts drew concerned looks from crew members who were moving through the base – Sonner had left the door open – and both of them seemed to notice. Collins drew up his chair and sat down, breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed pink, while Sonner tried to adopt a more relaxed and unconcerned stance. Neither spoke again until the many curious and anxious eyes turned away from the glass walls of the office and the bodies began moving again.

  During the pause, Sonner’s mind raced out of control. Of all the obstacles they had faced and overcome, she couldn’t believe that the greatest threat to the Contingency was from within their own ranks. Collins was proving himself to be every bit the bureaucrat that Taylor had believed him to be. Before the war was lost, they’d managed to get six Admirals and Generals onto the Contingency base, along with dozens of officers with front-line command and strategic planning experience. That chance had determined a pen pusher like Collins to end up in command beggared belief.

  “Make your choice, Commander Sonner,” said Collins, keeping his voice low, though it was still heavy with resentment. “My original offer stands, but this will be the last time I ask. Accept my command, or I will have these simulants arrested and confined, and the enemy Corvette stripped for parts. Do your duty, or sit out the war in disgrace and face a court martial on Earth. Because I will win this war, Commander, with or without your help.”

  Sonner knew it was pointless to argue, and she also believed that Collins would follow through with his threat. As much as it pained her to admit it, she had no choice but to do as Collins said. “I accept your conditions, Colonel Collins,” said Sonner, smartly. “Will that be all, sir?”

  Collins observed her closely for a few seconds, studying her face and looking for any suggestion of deception, but Sonner’s eyes remained fixed dead ahead, her lips pressed together and arms firmly by her side. She was giving nothing away. “For now, yes,” he said. “You are dismissed.”

  Sonner turned and marched out of the office, more afraid than she’d been at any moment since coming out of stasis on the Contingency base, completely alone. She knew that a time would come when a hard choice would need to be made. It was a choice she did not want to contemplate, but if it became necessary, she resolved in that moment to act. If it came down to the survival of the human race, or following the orders of an officer who was so far out of his depth that he was already condemned to drown, she would do what had to be done, no matter how terrible the c
hoice, and no matter the personal cost.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  The door to the bridge of the War Frigate slid open and Adra stood tall as the party from Warfare Command’s flagship entered. First in was High Provost Kagan, the Commandant of Warfare Command, followed by an adjutant Adra did not know. Behind him were four simulant combat guards in an amber-colored armor that shrouded them from head to toe. The simulants advanced and surrounded the command platform, before standing to attention, plasma rifles held ready. If Adra needed any more of an indication that this visit was not a personal call, the surrounding of her command platform by these specialist combat units was all the confirmation she required.

  Adra knew better than most the capabilities of the combat simulants, because she had engineered them to serve as Kagan’s personal guard. They were not nearly as sophisticated as the high-functioning Hunter simulants, and had no independent thought, but more of their brains had been left intact compared to the regular simulant crews, who were little more than automatons. Adra and Kagan had spent some time together during the creation and field testing of the guard simulants, so they were familiar with one another, but she expected no special dispensation on account of this. If she was to receive any leniency it would be on account of her broader, pivotal role in the creation of human-simulant hybrids. This act alone had allowed Warfare Command to expand its reach across the galaxy. Adra respected Kagan, despite him ultimately being responsible for decommissioning the Hunter Corvette fleet, but she also knew that he was not sentimental or merciful, and not to be crossed.

  Adra bowed her head as High Provost Kagan stepped on to the command platform, while his unnamed adjutant remained respectfully on the main deck. “High Provost Kagan, I am honored by this unexpected visit.”