0558 Hours, February 21, 2551 (Military Calendar) \ UNSC vessel Boomerang, Gunnhild System, 24 Hours from Laxardal.
Blast doors lowered over the windows of the Boomerang's bridge, locking into place with a firm thud. The light of space, of myriad stars, vanished. Only artificial red remained, casting dull shadows across the hard edges of bridge machinery. Monitors set into walls and thick consoles emitted the faintest of greens, barely visible beyond a metre and illuminating only beleaguered men and women.
The crew sat quietly, hunched over in their chairs, eyes dark and drooping with fatigue. Fingers clacked against keyboards, whispers parted lips as officers exchanged information to one another. Nobody paid attention to the darkening of the room. Their eyes were fixed on their screens. Their Captain walked amongst them, squeezing through the narrow gaps between stations, leaning over shoulders to inspect work or pass his comment. The top of his head barely skimmed under the low ceiling.
He came to a stop behind the overworked navigation officer and rested a hand on the man's shoulder. The officer jerked in surprise, then gazed expectantly up at the Captain. Receiving only a strong nod in reply, he returned to his eyes to his station, wearily but tirelessly adjusting course and watching for updates from the systems officer. The Captain watched too, with grim intensity.
Numbers, calculations, coordinates, maps and grids were all strewn around the screen in an organised madness which only a trained operator could understand. Having once been in the same position as the young man before him, the Captain understood the chaos, though some software had changed in the decade since he gained his own command. But it was not the system itself which interested the Captain. It was what it described.
Two kilometres directly ahead of the Boomerang a much larger ship lazily sailed through space. Two kilometres - a dangerous distance in such a situation. The unknown vessel possessed massive engines which washed the smaller ship in waste heat and propellant. The Boomerang could take it, of course, but only just. Any closer and delicates would begin to suffer.
It was a risky tactic. Any sudden decelerations could catch the Boomerang off guard and risk an impact. And although no weapon systems could be detected, its size must have warranted at least some defensive measures. But the advantages of the position were undeniable. By placing herself directly at the ship's aft, the Boomerang could hide like an ancient submarine, despite not being designed for stealth. There was too much interference from the charged particles behind the unknown ship, and no cameras or windows which would be able to spot them.
A week earlier, having found the mystery ship, intercepted, and reported inactivity, the Captain had received orders directing him to send regular reports to Sector HQ and quietly skulk until reinforcements arrived from Reach. The order had unnerved the crew. They were dealing with an unknown factor, a high-tonnage starship of unknown intent and capability. The only thing staving off worse worries were the double shifts every sailor pulled on their undermanned destroyer. When the mystery ship had finally powered up and began moving, SHQ ordered them to stalk it, persistent and silent.
Whereas intent was clouded, destination was as clear as day. The unknown was on a flat course for high orbit over the system's only colony world, Laxardal. Moving at low speed, with no reconnaissance pickets or escorts, nor with any active scanning, it had been easily hoodwinked by the Boomerang, and could have been by all but the biggest of UNSC ships.
But now, the deception was to be revealed.
The Captain laid his left hand on the systems officer's shoulder, and squeezed on both her's and the navigation officer's. "Lieutenants. You see the shutters?"
Both looked up from their consoles and then back to their Captain, standing tall in the space between them. "Aye Captain."
"Good. We have new orders: battlestations. We engage in twelve hours."
The entire crew complement was awake. Cryopods had been busted open, security details assigned in case of boarding action. Spare Archer missiles were seen to by mechanics after a long haul in storage, the MAC system all the while undergoing torturous calibration and testing. Snacks were given out to keep up crew strength, with orders to eat whenever possible. The tiny, dark bridge had come to life, junior officers taking the extra stations and aiding with every possible function. The reactor, though not needed at full power yet, was kept hot and running at 95%. The Captain wanted it warmed up and ready for use at full power and, if necessary, at the redline.
Though twelve hours was a long time to wait, adrenaline ran high. The sheer anticipation of an engagement after months spent on routine patrol (or in the freezer) kept every sailor on their toes, if nervous. Even the Captain was keen to see action, though he had wished he had some hours more to prepare. Neither human nor dumb AI had managed to find a way into the other ship's electronic systems, though they had, as far as anyone could tell, managed to mask their attempts to any hostile intelligences.
Finally, the timer struck t+11.50. The Captain pushed himself away from the bridge's main display, from the overviews, images and reports which had held his attention all day.
He squeezed past the two lieutenants and sat behind and between them, in his own chair. The hot seat, as it was called by most UNSC captains. It had its own command module, screen, and holographic projector held within the armrests, but at such expense that apparently the UNSC skimped on any padding. Utility over comfort, as usual.
The Captain nodded to a middle-aged blonde woman, the ship's 2IC, who had watched him since he made his way to the chair. She approached and stood at his side. She saluted, and he nodded. "Commander."
"Captain."
"Anything to report?"
"Nothing Captain. The Boomerang is as ready as we can get her. I wish HQ had sent the orders sooner though." Consternation panged across her face.
"As do I. We must make do though." The Captain looked around the bridge one last time, taking in the sight of a healthy crew, albeit tired. With so many ships, including the Boomerang, being run on skeleton crews, they were lucky to have had any time at all to prepare in advance and maximise use of their manpower.
"Commander," the Captain continued. "I think it's time. Eight minutes to go. Lock down the bridge. Put the rest of the ship on redlight and alert the crew that we are taking up final battlestations. They are to get to brace areas. Ready unoccupied compartments for emergency depressurisation. And the crew - they have already stowed excess munitions, correct?"
The Commander briefly checked her tablet, being fed reports directly from the system officer. "Aye Captain."
"Good. Then you may give the orders."
As she did so on the PA system, the Captain swivelled on his chair to the right, looking at the back of his weapons officer. "Weapons station."
The haggard man turned to his Captain. Though his mouth was already agape to say something, he was cut off with rapid fire orders. "I need three separate firing solutions Lieutenant. Solution one will be a warning shot: fire a single missile from Archer pod A to the port side of the unknown vessel, guide it to and past the sensor array on their nose. Fire when the timer reaches twelve hours. Solution two: the remaining missiles from Archer pod A, and then pods B to F, will fire and impact on the closest of the four extended arms. Slave the execute command to the hot seat"
The Captain turned to his left and caught the attention of his navigation officer. "You two will need to make the final firing solution together. In case we cannot disable the ship and they do not surrender, or they already have their shields up, then we will need to destroy it outright. In case that happens, I want the nose of the Boomerang opposite theirs, while matching speed. I want our ship also doing a full 360-degree roll every 20 seconds. We will be fighting backwards. You will then fire a four-round MAC salvo down the spine of their ship. Use M160KG, 100% charge. That should give five seconds between each round. Prepare a single H600KG, to at least 70% charge, in case the first four do not finish the job. Simultaneously arm and fire Archer pods G to L, aiming…"
He pointed to the rudimentary schematic on the bridge viewscreen.
"At the spherical section marked R5. If none of that can destroy the target, we'll consider fighting on or fleeing. Get to it gentlemen. Six minutes. I want the MACs charged by then." He had left it late, but of course with a MAC gun that was required. Holding a charge too long would have both risked damaging the coil machinery, and robbed the crew of precious preparation time on the double-barrel cannon.
The Lieutenants gave their aye ayes and furiously typed and talked. The Captain trusted that despite their fatigue these men could properly do what was required. If not, the dumb AI would be watching and correcting any glaring errors. That solution two, only a minute later, was ready and waiting for the execute command was promising.
Solution three made the Captain nervous, however. It was intended to stop the enemy from kicking their engines into overdrive once they realised they were being tracked from the rear, and thus would prevent them from doing major damage to the Boomerang. However, if there were hidden weapons systems on the nose or flanks of the ship, the Boomerang could well be easily destroyed. Hence the spinning, to dissipate as much damage as possible around the relatively thick armour. Armour, after all, could be replaced easily and quickly. What was underneath could not.
But the Captain saw no other way of attacking the ship from such proximity while giving the option for surrender, as he had been ordered. Had he simply been told to engage and destroy, he could have fired everything directly into the engine block in a single surprise attack. Though he did not know the origin or make of this vessel, that any known Covenant warship of similar tonnage would be destroyed by the planned salvo would have encouraged him.
The Captain gripped the edges of his armrests. Two minutes remaining.
"Systems officer." She turned to him. "We are engaging momentarily. Prepare a demand to surrender, hail it after the first firing solution executes. Warn them they will be fired upon if they refuse. Now patch me into the PA system. Shipwide."
"Aye Captain." She hit some keys and then began prerecording the Captain's demand.
Reaching back to the top of the hot seat, the Captain pulled a headset with one earpiece and a microphone off it. He held it to his mouth, cleared his throat, then keyed a switch on the hot seat. "Attention crew, this is the Captain. We are engaging the enemy in t-minus 80 seconds. We will give them the opportunity to surrender, so prepare to stick around the area longer if they accept. Damage control stand by. Over." He looked back at the system officer. "Lieutenant, put the fore camera feed on screen, start an active scan of the vessel once we're out of their baffles."
The reports he had so thoroughly read vanished, replaced by the blue of their target's engines, dimmed so as not to flood the dark bridge with light.
He let the headset fall around his neck. The bridge stilled, the crew sat silent. Men and women throughout the ship ran to their final stations and waited nervously, those who could switching through camera feeds on their nearest monitors. For a moment, there was little to do but wait. Some had experienced similar moments before - the uncommon engagement where there was no terrible rush or frenzy as enemy ships materialised in front of their eyes, but merely the surreal stillness of knowing that battle was to commence at the exact second, on their own terms.
Twelve hours had passed.
The Captain briefly worried that they may have been known this whole time, the target merely playing with them. Too late to do anything about it though.
Missile One automatically fired, going portside and then beyond view for a moment until it streaked past the starboard side of the enemy vessel.
"Systems, send the hail. Navigation, begin the manoeuvre for solution three. Weapons, recheck solution two and arm pods B through F."
The bridge remained quiet, other than the usual aye ayes. Fingers, however, returned to furiously clacking. The weapons officer confirmed solution two. The Boomerang drifted port and alongside the larger vessel, following the same path as the missile but both turning and spinning on its axis.
"No response to the hail sir."
"Roger. Executing solution two." The Captain tapped a command on his armrest, and a series of thumps sounded as the missiles, some located close to the bridge, blasted clear of their pods and raced to the nearest of the four outstretched arms on the enemy vessel. The viewscreen changed to a portside camera feed and watched 155 missiles race to their target in almost the blink of an eye. The rear half detonated just before impact while the fore half continued on a split-second more and detonated successfully. "Systems?" the Captain demanded.
She responded instantly. "Captain, active scans registered an energy spike as the missiles failed. They must have activated energy shields."
"Too late though," interjected the weapons officer. "Successful Archers have effectively disabled the arm. Jesus, nearly shorn it clean off."
"He's correct Captain, arm has totally powered down. There's significant damage to the surrounding superstructure on the main body of the vessel. Shall I hail again?"
The Captain watched as the enemy vessel started to sporadically lose power in some of the sections connected to the now defunct limb. "Yes. Hail again, warn them the next shots will be with intent to destroy. They will have 10 seconds to signal compliance from time of receival. Switch to fore camera feed." He turned to the weapons officer. "Lieutenant, exactly ten seconds from that time, execute solution three. Arm pods."
More aye ayes. Systems recorded the new demand, and simultaneously wrote a text variant, just in case they were dealing with aliens. "Navigation, are we in position?"
"Three seconds to manoeuvre completion Captain, currently decelerating."
"Good." They were taking a risk, leaving seven seconds between reaching firing position and actually unleashing. Damn the orders, the Captain thought. But he would follow them.
On the camera feed they saw the Boomerang's nose moving only slightly, while they felt with their whole bodies the aft section of the vessel swinging into position, so that the two ships would be spine to spine. Inertial dampeners did not remove all sensation of movement.
A disorienting rotation also made some avert their eyes from the camera feed lest they feel sick. The Captain did not begrudge them. Space was not, by any means, a place which the human brain had evolved to understand like it could the sea, or solid ground.
The thrum of the charged dual-MAC was audible under their feet. Systems spoke again. "Captain, we have received a response. Plain English, unencrypted: they are complying."
The message surprised the Captain. When he had seen energy shields activating he had assumed it was an alien vessel, and alien vessels never, ever surrendered to the UNSC. Either he had got lucky and found the only one to ever do so, or he had just found human beings who had mastered a technology that the Navy could only dream of possessing. Either way, the realisation came across him that with this single, quick, almost pedestrian encounter, the Boomerang may have just made a noticeable impact on the war effort.
"Understood…"
"Captain?"
"One moment systems…"
Notes: This is the first piece of fiction I have written since school, four score and many more moons ago. Please leave constructive criticism if you enjoyed it, think there is somewhere I could improve, or any reason otherwise. I am already aware that my dialogue could use work.