Merkiaari Wars: 01 - Hard Duty (23 page)

James shook his head. “That’s not a problem. Bindar, that’s Professor Singh, has a program that runs on
Canada’s
computer just fine. What we need is something that can hear voices and speak back in the right language.”

“That’s okay then. If his program runs all right now, it will run okay on what I have in mind.”

James watched as Williams ran a diagnostic and wondered what he had started. “What
have
you in mind… if you don’t mind me asking that is?”

“Don’t learn if you don’t ask questions.” Williams straightened and waved a hand at the unit. “This crap is too damn bulky… heavy too.” He eyed James as he stretched his back. “The new one… remember I told you about the new one that costs ten times as much?”

“Yeah, I mean yes of course.”

“Well that one is tiny compared to this one. It’s still too big for what you want, but it’s small enough to make mobile. I have an idea how we can link into that compad idea of yours.”

James realised he was staring. “You want to take out the new one and put that piece of…
you want to put that junk back in?
” he cried incredulously.

“Yup!”

Oh God, Colgan wasn’t going to like this! He had to explain the situation before Williams said something and brought the wrath of God… well the wrath of the Captain down on him.

* * *

Aboard ASN Canada, Shan Inner Belt

“Easy,
eeeeasy
,” Captain Colgan said as his ship navigated the clutter of the asteroid belt. He realised he was on the edge of his seat ready to pounce on the helm controls, and forced himself to sit back. Janice,
Canada’s
helmsman, took no notice of his hovering presence at her back. “Steady as she goes, helm.”

“Steady as she goes, aye,” Janice verified automatically. She remained hunched over her controls and didn’t look up.

Colgan glanced around his horseshoe shaped bridge. In front of him, on Janice’s left, Anya Ivanova sat at tactical and monitored the feed piped to her station from Scan. Her job was to keep a wary eye on the Shan heavies, and update her targeting solutions. Colgan was determined they would never be used. The Shan heavies were waiting for
Chakra
to flush him out, but that wouldn’t happen. He would never let himself be forced into the open.

Along his left side were two empty observer stations, while to his right, Commander Groves sat at Scan studying the data
Canada’s
sensors provided her. She was tracking
Chakra
, and looking for a suitable hiding place. The plot table’s colourful display hid her face behind shadowy patterns, and painted her uniform with scrolling alphanumeric lists of data. Colgan could almost read the current situation just by glancing at her uniform.

Behind Colgan’s right shoulder, next to the unused holotank, was the comm shack. Lieutenant Ricks was monitoring Shan comm chatter. Opposite him on the other side of the bridge was engineering. Ensign Steve Carstens, their youngest crew member at nineteen, was manning the station. He had a direct link to central damage control. He monitored
Canada’s
systems and despatched maintenance teams if required. A thankless task, but necessary. Computers were by no means infallible.

Colgan surveyed the faces of his crew one last time. Everyone was busy at their stations trying not to look at the tactical overlay currently displayed on the main viewer. It showed
Canada
trying to put distance between herself and the Shan ship they believed was named
Chakra
. They were sneaking away using the clutter of the belt to hide their movements. Although most of its stations were manned, the bridge was unnaturally quiet.

Lieutenant Ricks finished receiving a report and turned to relay it. “Stealth mode is still inactive, Skipper.”

“
Chakra
is closing,” Groves said a moment later.

Colgan nodded. The asteroid belt was like a maze, a perfect place to lose
Chakra
, but the Shan captain would not give up.
Chakra
would lose them one day and reacquire them the next.
Chakra’s
skipper was learning his moves, but there wasn’t a hell of a lot he could do about it. Not with three heavies lurking just beyond the belt.

Their game of cat and mouse had become serious.
Invincible
had jumped outsystem over three months ago, three months of silence spent hiding from the Shan hunters, but now
Canada
was in serious trouble. A minor collision yesterday with a piece of rock disturbed by the game they were playing, had since blossomed into a full scale disaster. The hit had been amidships, and had seemed of little consequence at first, but when the damage report came in, it revealed a more serious problem than scratched nanocoat.

The rock had damaged
Canada’s
emitters, without which she was visible to
Chakra’s
sensors. When active, stealth mode made
Canada
electronically invisible. She could still be seen with the naked eye of course, but one tiny ship in the vastness of space was almost impossible to spot. A ship hemmed inside an asteroid field without stealth, had few options but to hide behind a lump of rock and hope no one was watching from that side.

“Get me an update on repairs, Mark,” Colgan said.

“Aye, sir.” Ricks turned back to his station and contacted damage control.

“There’s one,” Commander Groves said looking up from the navigational plot her station was displaying. “Transferring to main viewer, sir.”

The image on the forward viewscreen changed to display a section of the inner asteroid belt. 
Canada’s
friendly blue icon blinked on and off with her heading and velocity appended to it.
Chakra’s
baleful red icon was closing on their previous position, like a hound on the scent of a fox. Groves circled an asteroid on the plot table, and the main viewer updated itself.

Colgan pointed his control wand at the circled asteroid, and copied it onto his number two monitor. Data denoting the asteroid’s size and composition began scrolling down the right side of the screen. The computer analysed the data and highlighted the important points in red. The asteroid was big enough to conceal two ships the size of
Canada
with room to spare, but more to the point, it was of the right composition.

He highlighted the asteroid on the viewer with his control wand, and it began flashing. “Put us in the shadow of that one, Janice.”

“Aye, sir. Manoeuvring… two percent only.”

Two percent was nothing, but more thrust would disturb the smaller particles of the belt. With
Chakra
stalking them, Colgan had ordered that two percent was to be used until further orders. So far it had worked.

“I have that update, Skipper,” Lieutenant Ricks said.

“Let’s have it.”

“Five hours… minimum.”

Hisses of shock went around the bridge. Groves looked at Colgan sharply. She would have made some comment, but his quick headshake silenced her. Everyone had assumed the damage to be minor and easily fixed, but now they knew that wasn’t so. They were beginning to feel like the prey
Chakra
so obviously thought they were. They didn’t need to hear their XO agreeing with them.

“Tell them that’s unacceptable.” Colgan’s stomach began to seethe. “I want every swinging dick in damage control up to their elbows in circuitry right now.”

“They already are, sir.”

At the press of a button, his station turned to face the comm shack and Lieutenant Ricks. “Explain.”

“The Chief says the rock we hit punched a hole right through the secondary control runs, Skipper. The entire thing fused solid when the overload hit the chips. They’re having to make new emitters from scratch, not repair the old ones.”

Colgan frowned. “I see.” He should have known that already, but with
Chakra
bearing down on him, he hadn’t taken the trouble to ask. He glanced at Francis and beckoned her over. She would have to sort this mess out. “Get down there and see what can be done to expedite repairs, XO. If we don’t get those emitters back soon, I’m going to run out of hiding places.”

“On my way.” Groves entered the lift at the rear of the bridge.

Colgan turned his station to face the main viewer. “Display tactical overlay,” he ordered. His eyes narrowed as the schematic appeared. “Remove all ships more than twenty minutes flight time from us.”

He watched all ship codes disappear except
Canada
,
Chakra
, and the three heavies that they had no name for. They were skulking about just waiting to pounce on anyone foolish enough to stick his nose outside of the belt.

“Centre overlay on
Canada’s
current position and display previous hiding places.”

The display was cluttered with the known positions of thousands of asteroids, but a dozen icons were blinking—his hideouts, each discovered and abandoned when
Chakra
bore in. They were widely scattered, but now that he looked at them all at once, he could see a pattern forming. That wasn’t good. If he could see it, he knew damn well the Shan could.

It took a certain composition of metal asteroids to hide
Canada
effectively. Iron core, with enough nickel and molybdenum to camouflage her sensors and beam weapons. For the millionth time Colgan wished
Canada
was a light or heavy cruiser, almost any proper warship would do.
Canada’s
beam weapons were mounted externally to save space for her labs. Her missile tubes obviously had to be internal for access to the magazines, but a warship had
all
of its weapons mounted internally. Only the muzzle of beam weapons truly needed to be exposed, and of course warships had sealable gun ports.

Not so
Canada
.

She had been converted from an
Exeter
class light cruiser into the survey vessel she was now. Most of her weaponry had been gutted to make room for her labs, her remote sampler storage bays, and her drone storage bays, which were oversized. Carrying extra drones gave
Canada
a greater range. Survey missions tended to be long ones. Sending back regular reports was part of that. Beam weapon and sensor grid construction both relied on alloys with heavy concentrations of certain metals, which would give the Shan a good way to find
Canada
if they knew what to look for.

Chakra
knew what to look for, Colgan was sure of it.

All of his asteroid hideouts were of similar size and composition. It didn’t take a genius to realise that all the Shan had to do was survey the belt for the correct type. When they did, they would have every possible hiding place he could use. Knowing his time was running out gave him a sharp twinge in his stomach. His damn ulcer was acting up again.

“Someone send for a glass of milk,” he said grimacing at the pain in his gut.

“It’s on the way, sir,” Ricks said sounding concerned.

“Asteroid approaching, sir. Two thousand metres… passing fifteen hundred, sir. Twelve hundred… one thousand metres, sir.”

“Knock it off, Janice. Just park us will you?” Colgan said holding his guts. Where was the damn milk?

“Aye, sir. Sorry.”

He relented a little, no sense displaying his worry to his crew. It was important they believe he knew what to do even when he didn’t.

“Sorry, Janice, but my guts are acting up.”

“That’s all right, Skip.” Janice eased her charge closer and closer to the mountainous looking asteroid. “All stop. Grapples deploying… good catch, sir.”

“Well done.”

They had done this a good many times now, but grappling an asteroid wasn’t easy. More than once they had grabbed one only to have the damn grapples wriggle loose. Asteroids might look solid, but they weren’t always reliable. They sometimes shattered or separated when stressed. This time all went well.
Canada
pulled herself in close to the asteroid until it looked like a gigantic cliff on the bridge displays.

“One metre separation, Skip.”

“Can’t you get us in tighter than that?” Colgan said with a small smile.

Janice spun to look at him in outrage, and everyone laughed. She realised he was joking and smiled sheepishly. She turned back to her consol and went through her usual routine of shutting down all nonessential systems.

“Your milk, sir,” crewman first class Riley said.

Colgan started. He hadn’t heard Baz approach. He took the offered glass and drank the milk straight down. He felt the effect almost instantly. Excess acid, that’s all it was. He had never had trouble with stress before this mission, but the constant threat of being destroyed, or worse, initiating hostilities with the Shan, was taking its toll on everyone. Doctor Ambrai wanted to adjust his IMS (Integrated Medical System), but the procedure would mean being laid up in bed for days. He didn’t have time for that. Ambrai would have to wait until after the mission to reprogramme his bots. The milk would have to do.

“Thanks, Baz.”

“You’re welcome, sir.” Riley took the empty glass and left the bridge as silently as he had entered.