The Landfall Campaign (The Nameless War) (32 page)


The computer is estimating the diameter of the object to be about three-hundred metres. Not a perfect ring though, it’s wider than it is tall,

reported Headey.


What do you think it is?

Jeff quietly inquired.


Don’t know,

Driscoll replied distractedly.

Might be the basic framing of a space station. No sign of work in progress though. Odd.


Sir,

the helmsman called out,

we’ve reached the point of our closest approach. Range is starting to open again.


Are we going to come around again to take another look?

Jeff asked.


No,

Driscoll said continuing to stare at the display, before turning and pushing himself towards his seat.

No,

he repeated more decisively.

We’ve got as much as we’re going to get here. We’ll now make a quiet exit. We’ll head out well beyond the Red Line and make our jump out tomorrow evening. Headquarters might choose to send another scout to take a second look at whatever that framework is, or they might send a cruiser squadron to flatten it.


So that’s the excitement done?

Jeff replied. It was almost a disappointment. Almost.


If we’re smart. The only other thing is those three approaching ships. We’ll see what they

re up to before we get out of range. That’s about thirty minutes away.


Do you mind if I go below to write up my notes and come back for that?


Go right ahead. I’ll call you.

 

Driscoll was as good as his word. Jeff had managed to use the time productively but the ending was still pretty weak, so hopefully the approaching ships would give him some material. Three starships were already visible on the visual display when he came back to the Bridge. They looked to be another two Nameless escorts plus a ship that looked different.


How come we can see these ones?

he asked.


Their engines are firing,

Driscoll replied.

That gives the cameras enough light to work with. The third one looks to be a hydrogen skimmer, probably harvesting fuel from the atmosphere of the planet. Although why are their engines still firing?

the last part Driscoll was clearly asking himself.


They’re decelerating, sir but unless they break hard in the next few minutes, they’re going to overshoot or collide with the framework,

Headey said.


Weird.

Driscoll muttered.


Sir,

said one of the other operators,

I’m getting some new readings from the framework.


What kind?


Magnetic anomalies plus some radiation. The computer doesn’t have any idea what it is.


Record it. Maybe Headquarters will have a better idea.

Silence returned to the bridge. Jeff was starting to consider going back to his note writing when suddenly Headey let out a gasp of surprise. On the visual display the three approaching ships were now brightly lit up. The picture swiftly panned to the left, onto the empty framework - except it wasn’t empty anymore. The space inside the ring was filled with a bright blue and white light which formed into a funnel.


What in the name of God!

Driscoll muttered.

Headey, any ideas?


Energy field of some description, sir.


I figured that bit out myself!

Driscoll practically snarled back at him.

Jeff’s pencil was working madly. This was just the big ending his newscast would need: previously unseen alien tech. This was gold, absolute gold. Then it got better. The harvester and its escort passed through the ring and the energy field, and one by one they faded out and vanished.


Well, well,

Driscoll commented calmly, with a slight smile.

Was that what it looked like?


Confirmed, profile matched jump out.


It

s some kind of fixed jump gate system,

Driscoll said.


Didn’t think that was possible, sir.

Headey replied.

You need to have a jump drive to keep the conduit open.


Their jump drives must be more different than we thought,

Driscoll replied with a shake of his head.

That

s going to blow holes in a few theories.


Skipper! That thing emitted a burst of protons as each ship went through. We’re getting reflections off our hull!

Headey suddenly exclaimed.

Jeff felt the mood on the bridge shift abruptly, from one of wonder to

not quite anxiety but something close. 


Oh hell,

Driscoll replied as he pushed himself back into his seat.

Bridge, Engineering. Prepare to spin up the reactor. Helm, prepare to lay in direct course for the Red Line.


What! What!

Jeff blurted out.


If we’ve had bounce back they might have spotted us and if they have then we might be screwed,

Driscoll replied tightly, his eyes locked on the main display.

Sensors keep a sharp eye on those ships.


Heading change! One of the escorts has just lit off its drive! They’ve seen us!

Headey shouted.


Bridge, Engineering. Full power, now! Helm, go full burn. Headey cut loose the array. Radar. Go active. Visors down gentlemen.

Driscoll unleashed a stream of orders.

As soon as he heard the magic words Jeff grabbed for his camera.

Built into the towed array’s winch was a pair explosive shaped charges. These were now pressed up against the cable and fired with a sharp crack. As the cable parted, at the other end, the array reacted to the loss of contact with
K7’s
computer by self-destructing. A security procedure, in this case probably not necessary since a second or two later the main engine fired and hosed the fragments with plasma.

On the bridge Jeff heard the sharp crack and a growing rumble, which recognised as the engines. The crack of the explosives might have unnerved him but now he had his camera he was too busy to pay much attention to that kind of thing. Around the bridge there was a series of sharp clicks as the crew closed the visors of their survival suits. Jeff panned his camera around them.


We have just observed previously unknown alien technology in operation,

he told his future audience breathlessly.

But a side effect of this has seen our position compromised.


Compromised

- that was a good military word, made people feel included.

At this point discretion is the better part of valour and Lieutenant Driscoll must use his ship’s great speed to escape.

With the engine firing there was a growing gravity effect and abruptly Jeff found his boot magnets losing traction as he slid backwards. The bridge bulkhead brought him to a halt with a bump.


Contact separation! We have incoming!

Headey called out.


Bridge to Engineering, lose the engine safeties. I want full power,

Driscoll ordered. In response the roar of the engines grew louder and Jeff found himself being pushed uncomfortably hard into the bulkhead. On the main radar display he could see four small contacts approaching them, chasing directly after
K7
and slowly overhauling. Driscoll watched the display intently, then suddenly barked out.


Countermeasures, full spread! Helm, right! Right

. Right

Right.. Right! RIGHT! RIGHT!

Jeff clung to a handle with one hand and his camera with the other as the ship corkscrewed madly. The courier’s hull keened and groaned at the mistreatment.  Through the forward view port he caught a brief glimpse of a missile burn past them.


We

ve just dodged four missiles the Nameless have fired at us!

he exclaimed for the camera. He spoke too soon.

It wasn’t a direct hit.
K7
wouldn’t have survived that. One missile did burst frighteningly close and sent out a spray of shrapnel, some of which hit the courier. The thin hull plating provided no real resistance as the missile fragments went clean through. On the bridge there were a pair of bangs as a thumb sized hole appeared in the left wall of the bridge, with a matching one on the right. Air started to rush noisily out. When his ears popped Jeff belatedly remembered to close the visor of his survival suit.

This bit Jeff remembered from his basic training. Snatching up a can of sealant, he pushed himself over to the hole and sprayed it in. The hole sealed up with a noisy gurgle.


Are they chasing us?

asked Driscoll.


One is holding position sir, the other is moving towards the gate, must be to raise the alarm.


No. No, it can do that with a transmission. It’s going to use the gate to jump out and it’s own drive to jump back in ahead of us. Watch for its distortion pattern,

Driscoll snapped back.

All three of the sensor operators watched their displays intently. Ten tense minutes later the Nameless ship passed through the gateway and disappeared. 


Got it!

Headey shouted back.

Distortion pattern bearing zero, zero, two dash zero, zero, zero.


Helm, take us right at him,

Driscoll called.


Sir?

There was alarm in the helmsman’s voice.


That’s an order! Cut engine and radar, countermeasures to standby.

When the engine cut out, microgravity suddenly returned and Jeff was forced to abruptly steady himself again. Ahead the visual distortion was now so close Jeff could see it with his naked eye. It got steadily more violent as the Nameless ship forced its way back into real space, ghost-like at first, it became steadily more solid.


Counter measures, full spread, pop the decoys!

Driscoll ordered.

From within recesses in the hull four cylinders the size of a diver

s air tank launched. Short lived but powerful rockets pushed them away from
K7
. Ten kilometres clear of the courier the cylinders activated. A tiny amount of air was all that was needed to instantly inflate a large foil balloon, one carefully tailored to match both the shape, size and radar profile of a K Class. Instead of the single fleeing ship it expected, the newly arrived Nameless found itself confronted by five separate contacts.

Jeff desperately wanted to explain what was happening, but his heart seemed to have jumped into his mouth and he found himself mumbling incoherently.

The escort spat missiles, ripping through two of the decoys, it still had two more missiles but the opportunity had gone.
K7
flashed beneath the Nameless ship, her engines firing once again, leaving the alien floundering.


Wherever it went sir, it didn’t pick up much velocity,

Headey reported.

It’s pretty much at rest relative to the planet. They’re never going to catch us.

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