"Broken Promise"
Unknown System
MCS Paul Revere
2698, December 2nd
Earlier that day...
"Course plotted. Standby for jump in three, two, one. Mark!"
The white glow from the jump faded away as Igor held onto a brace attached to the holo-board. A second later, the board rematerialized with the new sensory data from the new system. He resisted the urge to nervously scratch his chin. Another moment and the Huntsman materialized onto the board followed by the Explorer II.
"Send out a ping, see if anyone's in range." Igor ordered. The red lights of the battle stations casting an ominous glow over the bridge.
"Aye, one ping out." A Liaison said.
Past the bridge's reinforced window Igor took in the new system. Hopefully, there were no IMC lurking out in the wide expanse. Then slowly as he observed he saw that the planets were awfully close. The coordinates weren't outside the heliosphere, they were within the inner sphere of the system. A really bad place for them to jump in to.
"Ping returned, no ship signatures detected within range." The tension eased inside the room.
Oran made a deep sigh and though Igor wanted to as well, he held his breath. Composed until relieved was how he felt about it. Chatter from the Huntsman began filtering in. All systems were green, status was fine. They had just sent out their ping.
"Steady," Igor said.
"Explorer reports all systems green, beginning instrument scan." The Comm-O relayed.
"Scan? We're in the middle of a unknown system! We haven't even secured the entry point yet! Tell her to stop immediately!" Igor ordered.
"Aye, sir!" The Communications Officer began ordering the Explorer II to halt their scans. A gesture that Igor felt was already too late. Light delay maybe masking the effects of their entry for a little while. The IMC could also have jump detection systems in place too – if – they were here.
"Sir! Huntsman reports unidentified contacts returned on their ping." A Liaison called out.
"Shit!" Igor's worst fears becoming realized. "Report!"
"Verifying!" The Liaison cupped his headphones absorbing the information from the Huntsman. "Identity confirmed! Two, no three IMC super-carriers on approach vectors. Two-point-eight AU's from entry point! Visual scan data transferring to board now!"
Igor turned towards the board, watching the three IMC super-carriers materialize. As soon as he saw their names he swore. "Reverify! Now!"
"Aye, sir!" The Liaison replied.
"The IMC were already here? You don't think..." Oran grabbed the holo-board brace next to him.
"That that radio beacon was a trap? I don't know but these ships here. The Herald, Envious, Resolute. Those are ships from the old Demeter Defense Fleet."
"The Remnant Fleet," Oran said breathlessly. "What should we do?"
"Run." Igor told him then to the helm, "Helm, take us in an escape trajectory away from the enemy. Comms, get the Explorer and Huntsman to form up on us."
"Sir, they're not responding." The Comm-O reported.
"Who? The Huntsman or Explorer?" Igor growled.
"The Explorer! They've activated their jump drive again!" A Liaison called out.
Igor's eyes snapped wide in shock. Aubrey couldn't expect to jump again. He grit his teeth frustrated and gripped the handles on the holo-board tightly.
"Is there anything we can do to stop them?" Igor asked angrily.
"No, sir. Not without destroying their jump drive."
His chest felt tight and full of worry. He came all the way out here just to protect Aubrey and now she was going to kill herself trying not to die? He wanted order his gun crews to disable their drive anyways. Have Aubrey and her crew come aboard, leave Ramirez to go fuck himself. Instead, within moments the muffled reverberations boomed around the hull as the Explorer ripped itself apart speeding towards one of the inner planets.
Shreds of the Explorer trailed as the jump engine tore itself apart trying to push too much distance at a time without the right mixture of fuel. Small fields of debris slowly drifted outward away from where the Explorer would've been, like a comet's tail.
"Spotters? Do we have a location for the Explorer's crash site?" Igor heard himself demand.
"Negative, Captain!" A Spotter replied. "With the light delay from our position it will take about an hour before we'll have any data."
Igor closed his eyes. Of the two most important people on the Frontier to him, one of them had just possibly died. This was war and people died. Academically, he understood that. Personally, he didn't want to accept it. He and Sho'ko had lived through Operation Fracture and MacAllan's Blitz together. Her dying here didn't feel right. It should've been after a tenure at some bustling university lecturing on her discoveries. Not in some unknown part of the Frontier after being sent there by people she didn't even like. The realization put a bad taste in his mouth.
Igor raised his head and barked out new orders. His voice stern and unwavering. "Continue as planned! Get us out of here, full impulse! I want this ship to jump as soon as possible or we're QSF'ed!"
"Aye aye!"
"Fairwyn?" Igor pulled up his wrist-comm.
"Yes, Captain?" She replied.
"Get Mister Preskott out of the brig and back into engineering!"
"Yes, sir!" She said with no hesitation. That was good. They were in a life or death situation and he had throw in every trick to survive.
The Revere flipped 180 degrees away from the incoming IMC carriers. Behind them the Huntsman attempted the same. Even with it's better crew and record, the ship was still much closer to the IMC ships. Igor kept one hand braced as he scrolled the holo-board over the Huntsman's position.
A feeling blossomed in his gut. The kind where his stomach felt like it just descended into the next organ. They had found the Remnant Fleet and Bish, Lansford, and the Council had to be told. At least, that's what he told himself. One last dutiful act for the people who had sent his friend to die.
On the holo-board, the Huntsman had fired ordinance downrange towards the encroaching IMC super-carriers. At it's maximum range for intercept, it gave the carriers a large window to avoid it's fire. It was desperate and Igor hoped it would buy him precious time. With Aubrey lost and the Huntsman soon to be, the newly made Captain didn't have a choice.
As long as we do everything perfect, we'll survive. The grim optimism guiding his decisions. "Preskott?"
"Captain?" the engineering chief replied.
"It's good hear from you again. We're in the middle of an IMC patrol route. I need you to find a solution to decrease our time to jump."
"Sir, I may have a solution already." Preskott's voice interjected.
Igor grinned. "Go ahead, Chief."
"The fuel cells for the Crow jump engines run off the same fuel as we do. If we can rig up a way to dump it into the engines..."
"Do it!" Igor said with no hesitation. "Whatever you need, just get it done pronto."
"Yes, sir. But it'll leave light on transports."
"Noted, Chief. Get me that jump."
"Aye, sir." Preskott said dropping the comm-channel.
"Okay," Oran said with a deep breath, "so we just need to survive long enough to see if it works."
"If it does, it'll shave minutes or hours off our refuel time – it has to work." Igor answered, now refocused on the holo-board.
The situation around the Huntsman wasn't pretty. Despite it's attempt to join up with the Revere it just wasn't enough. The Phantoms had eventually caught up to them and knocked out their gun emplacements, soon after disabling their engines. The Huntsman was now on the mercy of the Remnant Fleet.
"Sir! Incoming IMC signal – wide broadcast." Comms relayed.
"Put it through."
An older man in his 60's appeared over the holo-board in IMC naval whites. His face had become softer in the nine months after Demeter but Igor still recognized the pudgy face of Commander Hood. The IMC commander surveyed the area around him as if he could see them before he spoke.
"This is Captain Hood of the IMS Envious to the Militia vessel MCS Paul Revere. I order you to cut thrust and prepare to be boarded. Failure to comply will result in the destruction of the MCS Jacob Huntsman. You have ten minutes to decide."
There was a very good chance that the IMC would carry out their threat to destroy the Huntsman with or without his surrender. It was standard procedure for the IMC to demand such thing then kill them all anyways. The number one thing everyone knew was that the IMC couldn't be trusted.
"Preskott, how we doing?" Igor asked into his wrist-comm.
"I've got a team unloading the fuel cells now and another working on a siphon device. They're not all happy about it."
He must mean they're not all happy to be working with someone who might've gotten their friends killed. Igor knew the social risk but also of the man's innocence. He'd deal with that later, if there was a later.
"The IMC's given us ten minutes. Where can you be by then?"
The line was quiet as the Martian pondered the question. "Probably at the fuel exchange procedure, Captain."
"Keep going then," then Igor turned to Oran, "Okay, so now what do we do with the IMC?"
"Well, taking surrendering off the table, any indication that we're not will prompt them to detonate the Huntsman."
Igor was glad to see he and Oran were on the same starting position. "Good. So how do we keep the IMC from thinking we're leaving and from scrapping the Huntsman?"
Oran punched a few keys into the holo-board for the whiteboard function and began sketching his ideas into the three dimensional space. He first drew wide blue circles around the Phantoms, explaining that was their weapon's range. Then he did the same around the carriers. Lastly he pulled the holo-board focus all the way out to show the whole system. Then tapped the Revere and drew a couple of lines one towards the gravity well and the other towards the edge of the heliosphere.
"Sir," Lance said when he was done, "considering the wide array of unknown factors within the system, we're really eyeing the needle."
"Noted." Igor folded his arms.
"This path here, towards the sun, makes it look like we're pulling in to negotiate – buy time – while we do the opposite. Maybe, put a round or two towards the IMC carriers but that puts us inside the prowler trap between their fleet and any others lurking sunwards." Lance used both hands focus the holo-board in on the space between the IMC ships and the sun.
"I follow."
"But, if we pull away, I can guarantee that the IMC will kill the Huntsman right away and send their ships after us at full speed. At their operating distance, the Phantoms could track us for a long time. Our impulse speed should be enough to keep us apart until jump."
Igor nodded in agreement. "Losing our ability to maneuver puts us at the greatest disadvantage, hence why they asked us to give it up. Moving away is the most logical and predictable path then. The IMC will come after us hard and try to bring us to heel. We cannot let the IMC get us all, the threat we pose is too great now. Looks like the parameters of S.O. Twenty Three have now changed. I – we, must now get this knowledge to Second Fleet Naval Headquarters on Concord. How and when we get there is yet unknown. But make no mistake, it is our duty to try."
At some point, he'd switched from talking just to Oran and to the entire bridge. He hadn't realized it but now he felt like he was leading them truly. Saving Concord, and by extension, Peter, was now the best he could do. He hoped Aubrey, the crew of the Huntsman would understand. The Coalition, the future of the Frontier, would be decided by their actions right now. We'll come back. I promise you Aubrey. I will come back.
"Aye aye, sir!" Oran saluted then turned to the crew. "You heard the Captain! Move like you got a purpose!"
"Comms," Igor turned to the Comm-O, "no transmissions outgoing or incoming until we clear the system. Radio silence. Oran, get on the comms with Tyrnbolt and have him rearm and reload. There's gonna be a fight before we're done today."
"Copy that." Lance brought up his wrist-comm and began coordinating with Tyrnbolt.
"Preskott whats our sitrep?"
"Siphon in place, working on transfer." Preskott said.
"Good. Carry on."
It was good to see what a motivated crew could do in ten minutes. The IMC hadn't been idle either and their Phantoms remained a set distance away but regrouped into attack formation. Igor instructed his helm to move to full impulse at first sign of approach from the enemy fighters. Tyrnbolt had readied and instructed his teams as best he could. For right now, the divides between former enemies forgotten.
"Three, two, one, mark. Ten minutes are up." A Liaison told the bridge.
"Any –" Igor began but movement on the holo-board grabbed his attention. The Phantoms moved from their starting line prompting his helm to put the revere into full impulse. Next, true to his word, Captain Hood ordered his remaining fighters to detonate the Huntsman. The massive ship breaking and cracking under the barrage. It was going exactly as he expected but that didn't alleviate the guilt Igor felt. He had sacrificed the Huntsman to buy time for his ship to escape and cut comms so that his crew was spared from hearing any rescue attempts. It was the kind of decision Igor thought his mentor Lansford would make but it just made him feel like a coward.
"Huntsman lost! She's been struck by thirty-eight..." but Igor held up his hand for the Liaison to stop. It didn't matter how much the ship had been hit with, it was gone.
"Helm – jump meter, how far can we go at this time?"
"Roughly enough to be halfway to Montana. Approximately four-hundred AU's, sir."
"Damnit."
"Phantoms closing, multiple jump signatures port and starboard!" A Liaison shouted.
"Evasive maneuvers! Keep them out of intercept range!"
On the board, the signatures were plotting on all sides. The number kept climbing, twelve, twenty, thirty-two. Hood must've called in another patrol to jump in. The whole system must be crawling with IMC. They had to do something soon – or they'd be joining the Huntsman.
"Preskott! ETA on that jump?"
"So far, it won't be enough. I need at least eight more cells or an hour to get at least to the edge of the Montana system."
"Get what you need from where ever you can get it!" Igor ordered him. "Have Fairwyn assist."
"Aye, sir."
"Sir," Oran leaned over to talk quietly to him, "if we pull too much from our systems, it might..."
Igor cut him off, "We can worry about that later, Lieutenant."
Lance blinked then nodded. His XO went back to quietly supervising the bridge. It was surprising to Igor how easy it was say. Here he was in a time of crisis acting how he thought he should. He lived if they all lived, so long as his choices were the right ones. As long as we do this perfectly.
A hundred klicks out, a sortie of thirty-two Phantoms stormed towards their path. Missiles launched from their tubes whirling towards several points around the Revere. Igor checked the holo-board. He had never seen this before, there were so many trajectories that he couldn't make out what was happening.
"Get me a bearing! What're the IMC doing?" Igor ordered.
"Sir! The trajectories are going towards where we'll be or go." A Liaison turned and explained.
"We'll be struck if run..." Oran pointed out.
This was it, now or never. "Preskott! We are out of time! Where are we on the jump?"
"If we jump now – it'll be a day before we can jump again."
"Understood. Helm! Jump when ready, plot us towards Fort Custer-By-The-Belt."
"Standby," Helm strained as he quickly moved the ship to a full stop to begin the jump sequence.
"Impact in one minute!" The Liaison called out.
"All hands brace for jump! Seal hatches!" Igor shouted.
"Impact in fifty seconds!" The Liaison continued.
"Coordinates locked in! Firing up cylinders now! Jumping sequence engaged!" Helm shouted in panicked bursted.
"Forty seconds!" The Liaison called out. Igor's grip on the holo-board handles tightened as he watched the missiles streaming towards him on impact.
"Captain! Ordinance identified, they're arc warheads – they're trying to disable us!"
"Helm?" Igor addressed them with a rising tone of concern in his voice.
"... locked in. Jumping in three, two, one. Mark!"
The safety of the encompassing glow surrounded them brought Igor relief as the Revere dropped into speckled blackness. "Report!"
"We're three hundred AU's from the heliosphere of the Montana system!" Helm happily reported. Shouts of joy went up around the bridge as crewman clapped and got out of their seats. The red glow of the battle stations finally switching off.
"By the skin of our teeth, huh?" Oran let out a deep sigh of relief.
No sooner had he spoken, Igor's wrist-comm trilled. "Go ahead, Preskott."
"Coolant burst in hoses one, three, seven, and nine. Impulse seems okay. Recommend we stay on the drift."
"Understood. Do what you can. Comms, get all teams to stand down from combat alert but remain on station. Then see if you can reach Commodore Lansford."
"Aye, aye."
Igor corrected his cover to try and get the sweat from his forehead gracefully. It didn't do much. Oran gave him a small grin then motioned towards the holo-board. "How much time do you think we bought?"
The thought had occurred to him too. "Depends on them. But adrift in interstellar space? I think we've lost them."
Oran nodded and seemed relieved. Igor brought up their position on the holo-board and traced the projected ETA of arriving at Fort-Custer-By-The-Belt. At their current speed it would take about 3 years. Thankfully, FTL communications existed and hopefully they would be able to reach Lansford.
"Captain, I've raised the Wolcott." The Comm-O informed him.
"Good, patch it through to my quarters." Once inside, Igor brought up the call. "Sir, I apologize for breaking radio silence but I have urgent news regarding SO twenty-three."
Lansford looked worse for wear, the normally calm and perceptive Commodore was visibly strained. The wrinkles around his face seemed deeper making him appear even older. "Go ahead, Vabrinski." His voice was raspier too.
"Sir! We came into contact with the Remnant Fleet just where Commander Bish suspected they would be but," Igor cleared his throat, "we took casualties, sir. The Huntsman and... the Explorer."
Lansford blanched. "Tell me we got survivors?"
"No, sir. Shortly after jump we encountered an enemy patrol of three carriers under command by Captain Hood and we were forced to jump to avoid being overwhelmed. The Huntsman attempted a rearguard action but we were too far away to assist. The Explorer, Aubrey, for unknown reasons made a jump towards one of the habitable planets. She may still be alive, sir."
The Commodore released a sigh. "Son... the fact of the matter is the Second Fleet has been sequestered to the defense of Harmony while the First recuperates at Artemis."
Despite his anger, Igor was surprised. "We took it, sir? We captured Artemisium?"
"Correct – though a cost. I can't go into more over this channel but for now, repair and refuel the Revere. Standby for further orders."
"And Aubrey?" Igor quickly asked.
Lansford frowned as he looked away from the camera. "You have your orders, Captain. I'll contact you at oh-eight-hundred."
It wasn't the answer he was looking for but Igor understood the message behind them. "Understood, sir."
"Wolcott out." As Lansford dropped the channel, Igor took off his cover and wiped his forehead properly. It had already been one hell of a day. As much as he would like to, he would have to grieve for Aubrey later. For now, even stuck in interstellar space, Igor had to keep his mind moving forward. It felt wrong, like betraying Aubrey somehow, but if he didn't he would be failing his crew and Igor knew that as Captain staying motivated was critical. With that, he put back on his cover and exited his quarters.