The Landfall Campaign (The Nameless War) (71 page)


Every time you

ve had something to report I

ve generally been scared shitless,

Driscoll grunted.

So where next for you?


Home for a couple of weeks

holiday
…”
Jeff trailed off looking embarrassed.


Alright for some.


Well then the network thinks they can get me embedded on a cruiser in the Home Fleet. Apparently I come across as sympathetic.


Still milking your big hit are they?

Driscoll had very calmly taken the news that following Jeff

s first frontline report, there was now a Lieutenant Driscoll fan club on the Internet.


Oh if they can manage it, they

ll be milking that long after we both become old and grey.


Well it won

t be the same without you,

Driscoll commented.

More peaceful maybe, but not the same.

On the flight deck there was a sudden alarm from one of the panels.


Radiation alarm!

shouted one of the sensor operators as his fingers danced across the controls.

It

s a solar flare plume! Impact in forty seconds!


Spooling in the towed array,

called out another rating.


Radshield to full. Helm. Hard turn. Bring the stern quarter to bear,

Driscoll ordered.


Roger,

replied the helmsman as he jerked the nose around to put the bulk of the engines between them and the radiation. Abruptly light poured through the bridge viewing ports and outside the radiation shield glowed as charged particles impacted.


Is the shield holding?

Driscoll demanded. There was a pause as the rating worked his system.


Negative, sir. That

s a negative. Internal radiation levels are climbing out of the green.


Right,

Driscoll snapped as he popped his seat restraint.

All hands, this is the Skipper. All hands to the shelter! All hands to the shelter!

Jeff hadn

t waited for the order. As soon as he heard the radiation was too much for the shield he knew what was going to follow. A proper starship had radiation protection for most of the crew areas. Little
K7
though couldn

t afford the penalties such a mass would entail, so instead there was one radiation shelter, or as the crew not so fondly referred to it

the lead coffin

. Jeff was the first in, with the engineering crew hard on his heels. He shoved himself into a corner as the crew all piled in and started to activate the emergency controls.


Well?

Driscoll asked after a few minutes.


A direct hit from a class four solar ejection,

came the reply.

We

re going to be going through this for anything up to the next several hours. We

re going to miss our look behind the gas giant.


That won

t matter,

said the ship

s chief petty officer before looking at Driscoll.

Sorry, sir. We didn

t get it back in soon enough. The towed array is completely fried. Not even the self-destruct is responding.

Driscoll let out a long irritated sigh before looking up at Jeff.


And this is the other reason no one in their right mind would want to spend time around this fucking star. The bloody thing is unstable.

 

As was the way of these things there had been no warning of the solar ejection, a fact that was irrelevant to the two new constructions shadowing the alien scout ship. They had no radiation shields to power up and even if they had, they would not have exposed themselves by doing so. While the new constructions might be recoverable, their crews were undoubtedly lost.

The question of recovery was not immediately important but their loss did however complicate an already difficult tactical situation. The scouts had been among the enemy

s greatest assets. Roaming behind the immediate frontline, they made it so difficult to build up the stockpiles required to break through the alien front. Experience had shown that these small vessels, while fragile, were elusive targets and quick to retreat when faced by armed opposition. If the first attack failed then it would be unlikely that a second chance could be gained before it jumped away. It was a problem the fleet had perhaps only now come up with a satisfactory solution to. Even if destruction was achieved, the aliens always sent either a second scout or armed force to investigate.

The analysis section suggested that the crew of the scout might have been disabled by the radiation surge in the same way the crews of the new constructions were. While the idea of recovering an alien ship in working order was an attractive one, it appeared an

optimistic appraisal. While it was true the aliens had on occasion demonstrated the expected willingness to accept casualties, largely they appeared to attempt to avoid them. The question was what to do now? By its very presence the scout was inflicting losses. With an enemy ship in system the ships orbiting the gas giant had been forced to power down to conceal themselves. The crews were already being exposed to dangerous levels of radiation and several ships are orbiting out from behind the gas giant. Against a star of this power, direct exposure would burn through a hull in minutes. Already a cargo ship and a cruiser had been lost. With the scout inside the solar ejection mass the ability to take action against it was limited. They must await developments.

 

In the shelter it felt like it was getting warmer. According to the temperature gauge it wasn

t, but Jeff had decided that if it came down to a question of trust, he

d trust himself over some bloody bit of machinery. Of course it might just be the atmosphere in the shelter. Nearly a dozen people, stuffed into a space about the size of his bathroom back home, was never likely to be comfortable. It didn

t help that they were nearly blind as to what was happening outside. One after another
K7

s systems were shutting down to protect themselves from the radiation. Its integrated passives had been overwhelmed before they even managed to get into the shelter. Driscoll had ordered the radar be brought up. It lasted thirty seconds before it started to suffer radiation related short circuits and the Lieutenant had to order it to be switched off. So now they were down to a few external cameras, but even if they did spot something it wouldn

t matter. The helm wasn

t responding to the remote link.

A couple of the crew were looking at pictures of loved ones. Jeff sort of wished he could do that. Suzie had dumped him weeks ago, which at the time had been a relief.


You okay?

Jeff started and nearly managed to head butt Driscoll as he detached from the bit of the wall he

d been floating against.


Sorry, sorry.


It

s okay,

Driscoll responded as he pushed Jeff back until his boot magnets locked on again.

You holding together?


That depends. How are we doing?

Driscoll grimaced slightly.


We could be worse. It

s become a class five but this shelter is rated up to a class seven.


Yeah but what happens if we

re spotted.

Jeff lowered his voice to a whisper when he saw several of the crew frown at him,

I mean we can

t do anything in here and no one can go out side the shelter.


Yeah. But it cuts both ways,

Driscoll replied speaking normally.

Any missile would have to come through the same radiation and a missile can

t afford to spend mass on radshields or physical shielding. Its systems would be cooked long before it got to us - might be different if they used rail guns or lasers. But lucky for us they don

t.

Driscoll gave him a firm pat on the shoulder before he moved onto the next faint heart.

For want of anything else to do Jeff dozed for a while before waking when the chief petty officer called out.


Skipper, the rads have dropped back into the green and they

re continuing to fall.


The ejection is over?


It was a pretty sharp drop off. I think we

ve gone out the side of the plume.


Alright, everybody out!

Driscoll ordered.

On the bridge there was a distinct smell of burnt insulation and several of the screens flickered madly. Driscoll looked around, his expression grim.


Suit up everyone. Something burning in here and I want to decompress and make damn sure it

s out. I want a complete systems check.

As he pulled on his survival suit Jeff mentally drafted a news report.

In time of war it is easy to forget that space is the most fundamentally hostile environment human beings have ever ventured into. The Nameless or any other alien species do not make space dangerous, they merely add to the danger. Even here, where there are no Nameless, the crew of
K7
face danger as they maintain their diligent watch over the stars.

Not bad, he thought to himself. Maybe a little too mawkish but it could be worked on. Now where the hell had he put his pencil?

 

As expected the scout showed signs of activity as soon as it exited the solar ejection mass so unquestionably the crew had at least in part survived. The question now was whether it continued its sweep of the system. Fortunately its drift had taken it within range of a powered down cruiser. Estimates on the probability of a first shot kill were high. This was fortunate. The situation around the gas giant was nearing crisis point. Balance had to be sought. They were all aware of their duty but a willingness to make sacrifice could not become eagerness or reluctance. The next moments would decide what course of action to take.

 


Sorry skipper, but we are talking major burn outs down here,

said the engineer across the intercom.

It

s only the Lazarus systems that are keeping us going at all.

There were crackles on the link, which suggested to Jeff that the engines weren

t the only things that had been damaged. Once rebooted, some systems had started up again, but others remained dead.


Thanks Chief,

Driscoll replied.

Bridge out. Any luck with the towed array?

The petty officer shook her head.

No. Either the array didn

t fold up before it got cooked and has jammed or the winch is damaged. Either way nothing is moving.

Driscoll let out a long, aggravated sigh.


Alright, jettison it. Helm hose it with the engine. Navigation. Make calculations to jump back to Junction.

 

Jettisoning of the towed detection equipment was the scouts

standard response to detecting a threat! The cruiser prepared to enga

No! Wait!

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