Honor Bound

“Everyone hold on,” Gianeto said, strain evident in his voice, and not just from the one and a half gravity acceleration. “Here we g…”

* * *

Admiral Patel watched with a horrified fascination as the Bradley touched fields with the enemy cruiser. The computer was simulating the two ships, and the enemy ship looked suspiciously like file footage of the Sheridan… but when the field intersection occurred, the simulation was replaced by feeds from the exterior cameras as well as the views from satellites in orbit nearby and Patel saw the globe of light that was the visible manifestation of the burst of raw gravimetic energy that escaped when the fields of warped space-time interacted with each other and the thin ionosphere.

Left behind in the wake of the collision were the two star cruisers, drifting aimlessly in high orbit, their momentum absorbed by the Eysselink field collapse. The enemy ship was looking a bit the worse for the wear: she had taken several hits from the Brad after the Sheridan had knocked her out of warp previously, and now she had experienced two field collisions in a very short span. The thermal scans showed multiple hotspots on the cruiser’s drive pods and significant fluctuations in its fusion reactor, as well as atmosphere leaks from the hangar bay.

If the enemy cruiser looked as if it had been in a fight, though, the Bradley had obviously lost one. Her drive pods had been completely sheered away by the gravito-inertial feedback and their mounts were twisted wreckage, coolant spraying white into the vacuum from severed feed lines. Her reactor was cold and inactive and her hangar bay spewed burning atmosphere, set alight, he guessed, by a shuttle explosion. She was helpless and not much more now than a stationary target.

Her Shipbuster missiles, however, were still active and now burning towards the enemy cruiser behind flares of fusion fire. Patel urged them on with his fervent hopes, running a quick check with what sensors the Sheridan had left to make sure that the lifepods and shuttles from his ship weren’t going to be too close to the blast, but unlike the Bradley, the enemy cruiser wasn’t powerless. From the weapons pods on either side of the ship shot two identical Shipbusters, moving away from the cruiser before their fusion drives ignited, taking them on intercept courses with the Bradley‘s missiles.

Patel swore softly and looked down at the control board beneath his fingers. The holographic displays weren’t working, but the backup physical controls were folded out and operational. He made a decision and touched the button to activate the fusion drives. The Sheridan lurched forward, shaking violently as the fusion drive came to life fitfully, its electromagnetic bottle taking a moment to stabilize. Then Patel felt a full one gravity of acceleration pressing him back into his command couch as his ship lumbered toward the enemy cruiser.

Hundreds of kilometers away from the starships, the two pairs of Shipbuster missiles converged and detonated, and all of the Sheridan‘s external and satellite feeds whited out at once, leaving only the computer simulation: a huge white globe, a second sun that outshone the real one that was emerging from the Earth’s terminator. Patel worried for a moment about radiation, then had to chuckle to himself as he realized what he was about to do.

“Try to do anyway,” he mumbled, correcting himself.

The cameras came back online and he could see the enhanced visual image of the enemy cruiser. They had to have the noticed the Sheridan accelerating by now… As if the captain of the enemy ship were reading Patel’s mind, two more Shipbuster missiles nosed out of the cruiser’s weapons pods and kicked free, their fusion drives igniting.

“Well damn,” Patel said, shoulders sagging. There was no way the Sheridan would reach the enemy ship before the missiles intercepted him. And once he was gone, there would be nothing left to stop that ship.

* * *

Drew Franks had imagined the worst, but somehow it was so much worse than he imagined. It was different both qualitatively and quantitatively than their previous field intersects with the ramships. It seemed like he was hanging forever in a grey limbo where there was no physical sensation and yet he still felt an incredible almost psychic discomfort. He could think, in that he was able to perceive what was happening to him, and yet he was unable to conceive a single coherent thought.

Then, after a subjective eternity, reality crashed down like a twenty foot wave into coral and rocks, with him in-between. The pain-nothing localized, just a general, intense soreness everywhere-was breathtaking and blinding, but in moments it retreated into a dull ache and he was able to open his eyes.

“Medical? Do you read me, medical?” He could hear Captain Minishimi’s voice before he was even able to bring his vision into focus.

How the hell is she back up and moving around so fast? he wondered enviously.

Then he saw what she was doing and he no longer felt any envy for her position. Captain Minishimi was out of her seat and hovering in the zero gravity, anchored to the navigation console, where Lt. Bevins was hanging against his restraints, blood pouring from his nose and trickling steadily from an ear. But even in the flickering shadows from the sputtering holographic displays, Franks could tell that Bevins was still breathing…

“This is Lt. Fields in Medical,” a reply finally came over the intercom.

“We need a team up here immediately,” Minishimi snapped. “We have one crewmember with a possible brain hemorrhage and others that may be injured as well.”

“Aye, ma’am,” Fields said. “We’ll get someone up there as soon as we can. Things are… bad down here.”

“I understand, Lieutenant,” Minishimi said with a resigned sigh. “Commander Infante,” she switched to the line to Engineering. “What’s our situation?”

There was no reply for a moment, and Minishimi glanced around to see that Franks was conscious. “Are you all right, Lt. Franks?”

“As far as I know, Captain,” he told her. A glance around showed that no one else was awake and coherent yet, although Commander Lee was shaking her head, trying to clear it.

“This is Commander Infante,” the Chief Engineer’s voice came over the bridge speakers. “Captain, we all seem to be okay here… no casualties. I am trying to get a look into the Engineering compartment now… oh dear.”

That doesn’t sound good, Franks thought morosely.

“Captain,” Infante reported, “the main trunk lines exploded and the entire compartment is pretty much destroyed. From what I can tell from our remote sensors, the Eysselink drive pods are nonfunctional-to be honest, I’m not even sure they’re there anymore. The antimatter fuel pods have ejected and the fusion reactor has completely flushed. I may be able to get the reactor back up, but it’s going to take hours to re- route the power feeds. Sorry, ma’am, but we’re driftwood.”

Minishimi was silent for a moment, and in that time, Larry Gianeto had managed to reboot the Tactical station and unfold the backup display screen. “Captain,” he spoke up, “I just picked up multiple fusion explosions about 400 kilometers from us, 600 klicks from the enemy ship.” He frowned. “Ma’am, I think he took out our missiles.”

“Damn,” the Captain said softly. “Lt. Reno, send a message to Fleet Headquarters. Tell them that we and the Sheridan are both disabled but the enemy cruiser’s field is down, at least temporarily. Tell them they have to launch everything they have at it, before it can start taking out our cities…”

“Ma’am,” Gianeto interrupted her. “The Sheridan is boosting on her fusion drive.”

Minishimi’s head snapped around, her eyes wide. Franks knew what she was thinking: the ship’s life pods had already evacuated, along with her remaining landers and shuttles. Whoever had stayed behind was doing exactly what she had intended to do: trying to save the crew.

“The enemy ship is launching on the Sheridan!” Gianeto announced. “Two Shipbusters, ma’am.”

“Captain,” Lt. Reno said, “we have an incoming communication.”

“Is it Fleet HQ?” she asked, feeling numb and helpless.