Wing Commander Junior Novelization Chapter 15
| Chapter 15 | |
|---|---|
| |
| Book | Wing Commander Junior Novelization |
| Parts | 5 |
| Previous | Chapter 13 |
| Next | Chapter 16 |
| Pages | 73-78 |
| Source | Wing Commander Chapter 15 |
Dramatis Personae
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| POV | |||||
| Speaking |
Jeanette "Angel" Deveraux |
Jeanette "Angel" Deveraux | |||
| Non-Speaking |
Unnamed Marine Corpse |
Corey Obutu | |||
| Mentioned |
Unnamed Tactical Officer |
Text
| PEGASUS STATION WRECKAGE |
| ULYSSES CORRIDOR |
| MARCH 17, 2654 0400 HOURS ZULU TIME |
| 9 HOURS FROM CHARYBDIS QUASAR JUMP POINT |
Part One
"Go on," Deveraux whispered to herself. "There's nothing in this mouse hole. Beat it."
The Kilrathi ship continued probing, its beam throwing a green halo over the asteroid.
A thump from the port side caught her attention. She shuddered as a figure dressed in Confederation Marine Corps armor floated near her wing. She looked away before the face rolled into view, but her stomach dropped anyway--and not from nausea. The Rapier had begun drifting.
Unable to fire retros that would reveal her location, she watched as the starboard wing brushed against an uneven valley of ice and rock with a sickening creak. She shushed her fighter and looked up. "You didn't read that," she told the Kilrathi. "And if you did, it was just two rocks colliding."
She waited. Waited some more. Became an authority on waiting. Knew the details. The frustration. Could tell you all you wanted to know about it. Could tell you that in the end there was, of course, nothing to do but wait.
And react.
The asteroid's halo grew brighter.
Part Two
Far to port, past clusters of rubble, something glimmered. Was it just more durasteel from the Pegasus Station? A second look proved Blair's suspicions. The Kilrathi ConCom ship had paused near Deveraux's position. "What do they see, Merlin?"
"They don't see anything. Switch on your thermal scanner. They're out of range to detect it."
He slid the HUD viewer over his eye and tapped on the scanner. Not much of a view: the glimmer once more, the asteroids among twinkling shards of metal ...
There. A fading red glow shown through the massive rock shielding Deveraux. "They've spotted Angel's heat corona."
"Two more Kilrathi closing fast," Merlin said anxiously. "Probably fighters."
Blair's gloved fingers traveled quickly over his instrument panels. Displays rose from darkness. Scanners flashed data to him. Engines hummed in their warming sequence. The communications system gave a readiness beep. "Angel. They've spotted us. Two more bogies coming in hot. Six o'clock." He stole a glance at his radar display. No, the Kilrathi weren't changing their minds.
Deveraux's wide eyes filled his display. "Can't spot them, Blair. Call it."
The blips moved closer.
"Jack in the box," Blair instructed. "On three. One ... two ..."
The Rapier's engines ignited with a thundering roar. Jagged stone wiped past him as he skimmed along the asteroid's surface. Once clear of the rock, he corkscrewed straight up, out of the field and into a starry sky.
"Form on my wing," Deveraux ordered.
"Yes, ma'am!" Wheeling around, Blair rocketed toward her fighter, strangling more thrust from his Rapier. As he neared her position, he spotted two Dralthi fighters escorting the ConCom ship.
Without giving the enemy pilots time to blink, he and Deveraux squeezed off dumb-fire missiles. Her rocket tore past the left Dralthi's shields to swallow the fighter in a fireball. His missile caught the other Dralthi as it began veering off. The explosion tore away the ship's engine housing and sent it spiraling out of control. It glanced several times off the asteroid Deveraux had used for cover, shedding plastisteel like a cybernetic snake.
Charging through the still-lingering blast waves, he and Deveraux targeted the ConCom ship. Even as his sensors indicated that she had ignited her missile, Blair jammed down his trigger. Their projectiles trailed ribbons of exhaust as they traveled the thousand-meter gap. But they stopped short, detonating in useless ringlets of energy as the ConCom's powerful shields absorbed them.
"Well, they're awake now," Blair said. He checked his radar display. "I've got two more bogies coming up from the brown dwarf. Engaging."
"Negative! I count fourteen unfriendlies inbound. Looks like two destroyers. We are out of here!" Her exhaust ports flared as afterburners engaged.
Blair lit his own burners and banked suddenly, following her back toward the Tiger Claw. He switched his left VDU to the rear turret display. A swarm of glowing specs descended upon the asteroid field.
Part Three
Standing in the center of the Grist'Ar'roc's bridge, Captain Thiraka nar Kiranka thought about the report from his tactical officer. Then he moved cautiously toward the rear of the bridge, where Kalralahr Bokoth crouched on bent knee below a meterhigh statue of Sivar. Waiting at the proper distance, Thiraka hoped the admiral would notice him soon.
As though emerging dizzy froma vision, the admiral craned his pale, oblong head toward Thiraka. "Kal Shintahr?"
"Sir, our lead ConCom ship has engaged a Confederation reconnaissance flight in sector seven. Fighters from two of our destroyers were dispatched to intercept."
"And the reconnaissance patrol escaped." With a slight growl, Bokoth forced himself to his feet. "So the Tiger Claw is here."
"Yes. The merchantman we tracked earlier jumped into this sector by using a gravity well. And the carrier jumped here through a pulsar."
"Do we have a fix on her signal?"
"We do."
The admiral turned to the command chair, where, cloaked in shadows and nutrient haze, a figure stirred. "Your friend is dedicated," Bokoth said, his words translated into the hoots and squeaks made by humans.
Stepping forward, the hairless ape in the atmospheric suit raised one of its stubby fingers and replied, "My friend is a Pilgrim. This is what he trained for. Prepare the ambush."
"In time," Bokoth said, raising his paw.
"That ship is the only thing that stands between us and the success of this mission. It's yours for the taking."
Bokoth absently tugged on his whiskers, purring into a thought. "That ship is insignificant. That hate of your kind blinds you. All things pass. Let it go."
The ape took a step closer. "You're wrong. Most things pass: love, passion, anger, life. One is eternal: hate."
Part Four
"We read your After Action Report," Commander Gerald said, staring angrily at Blair as he and Deveraux stood on the Tiger Claw's bridge. "You knew what the orders were. No contact with the enemy. Now you've compromised the mission and this ship."
"Sir. I had no choice. The enemy had spotted Lieutenant Commander Deveraux's heat signature, sir."
"Really," Gerald said, half-singing the word. His gaze shifted radically. "Angel, how sure are you that the Kilrathi had you targeted? Given the lieutenant's background ..."
"Excuse me?" Blair's face grew hot.
"It's well documented that Pilgrim saboteurs have been responsible for much of the Confed's problems in this war. I'll be sure to download that information to your account, Lieutenant."
"Did they have me targeted?" Deveraux demanded, turning to face Blair. "Or did you just get trigger-happy?"
"Trigger-happy? What kind of an operator do you--"
"Enough," Sansky said. "The Kilrathi are aware that Rapiers are short-range fighting craft assigned to cap ships. They know we're close by." He focused on Blair. "Tell me again about this communication you claim to have heard."
"It was a ULF signal coming from the vicinity of the Tiger Claw, sir."
Sansky swung toward the navigation station. "What about it, NAVCOM? Were any communications sent from this ship?"
"Negative, Captain," the computer said. "There were no communications sent by the Tiger Claw."
Gerald smirked and gave a nod.
"Sir, I tell you--"
"You tell me nothing, Lieutenant," Sansky said. "Nor does your flight recorder. A Rapier's scanners are not equipped to detect ULF transmissions. Your reliance on your PPC--unauthorized equipment, I might add--does not convince me that the signal exists. PPCs are not standard military issue and are vulnerable to a number of viruses. What you thought you heard--"
"But sir--"
"--could've come from any number of natural sources."
"This was not a natural--"
"Dismissed, Lieutenant."
Captain Sansky took a moment to recover from his argument with the young lieutenant. He admired Blair's courage to hold his ground, even on the bridge. He turned to Gerald. "Your assessment?"
"That ConCom's running point for the battle group. Their fleet won't be far behind. As you said, they know we're here, so I say we send them a message. I can have my fighters up in thirty minutes."
"Twenty," Deveraux corrected, her self-confidence revving even higher than Gerald's.
"That would be a mistake," Taggart said, lifting his head from the helmsman's screen. "Without her fighters, this ship's vulnerable."
Pursing his lips, Sansky thought about the pros and cons of a first strike.
"You're a civilian scout," Gerald reminded Taggart, "not a naval officer. Tactical operations are our concern."
Taggart's face grew rigid, and his tone plunged to warning depths. "There's a great deal more at stake here than you seem to understand, Commander."
Sansky threw up a hand. "The XO is right. I'm sorry, Mr. Taggart. Destroying that ConCom and its escorts will slow the Kilrathi. Deveraux will lead a strike force. You will accompany her." He crossed back to Lieutenant Commander Obutu, who kept vigil over his screens. "Con, plot a course for the rings of Planet Four-fifteen. We'll find good cover there."
