Starhold by J. Alan Field Read Free Book Online Page B

launch.”
    “Aye, Captain.” Swoboda programmed his missiles, factoring in the minor delay caused by the speed of light. The enemy would actually hit the mines just slightly before the Tempest saw it happen, but of course that worked both ways—the Sarissan missiles would be launched just a beat before Bandit Alpha’s contact with the minefield. In space combat, every millisecond was important and accounted for.
    Adams looked around at the CO from her console. “Sir, if we slow down a little, the missiles will have less time to target after they’re launched.”
    “Negative,” Pettigrew replied. “If we do anything different, their captain’s going to wonder why and then they’ll start thinking. I don’t want them to think, I want them doing exactly what they’re doing right now—heading toward my minefield. Helm, maintain course and speed.”
    “Thirty seconds until enemy engages minefield,” Ensign Paruzzi announced. Those thirty seconds seemed like three hundred as Pettigrew fervently hoped his opponent wouldn’t detect the stealth explosives. Thirty seconds became fifteen, then ten, then five.
    “Four, three, two, one.”
    Nothing happened for twenty more seconds. Pettigrew’s mind raced. Perhaps they had somehow disarmed the mines, or perhaps his opponent just got lucky. Of course, there was the light delay, but that wouldn’t explain—
    The viewscreen flared as explosions happened all around the enemy craft. It seemed as if the enemy had hit all two hundred mines at once, even though that wasn’t possible. Cheers erupted on the bridge, quickly extinguished by Commander Knox’s reprimand that things were far from over. Indeed, Adams spotted it first.
    “Captain, notice the flickering effect around the enemy vessel. Let me check… Sensors confirm it, sir. They’re employing some sort of force field or energy shielding,” she reported. Human science had still not perfected the kind of ‘shields’ that science fiction writers had been using for centuries. Whoever the strangers were, they seemed to have figured it out.
    The enemy ship was slowing down, but continuing right through the minefield as each mine explosion produced a greenish glow near the foe’s hull. The crew was so engrossed that they were startled by Swoboda’s announcement of “missile contact in ten seconds.”
    Chaz Pettigrew’s voice asserted command. “Ms. Nyondo, increase speed to fifty percent I-drive and bring us to course one-eight-zero mark six.”
    Tempest’s ion engines responded and the ship lumbered back around in the direction of its antagonist. As the Union ship maneuvered, missiles were slamming into the enemy’s shields. After a few minutes, the two vessels were headed toward each other and Tempest’s sensors were reporting damage to the enemy warship.
    “By all rights, that ship should have been blown into a million pieces,” Commander Adams observed as she sent the data to Pettigrew and Knox’s stations. “However, it’s still coming at us. It seems that their shields, or whatever that is, absorbed most of the energy. We did manage to hurt them, however. They’re moving slower and they’re venting a variety of gases, including oxygen. You can make out some structural damage as well.”
    “Enemy firing!” called Swoboda. Two groups of warheads were sprinting in the direction of Tempest , but were going to miss wide of the mark, with one group going off to starboard, the other wide to port.
    “These guys have really lousy aim,” Knox remarked. “Enemy missiles are too distant for point-defense to get a lock, sir.”
    Adams cursed under her breath as Pettigrew yelled at the helm.
    “Nyondo! Fire emergency thrusters and dive thirty degrees! Now!”
    Afterward, Captain Pettigrew remembered thinking that he would be forever grateful that Sephora Nyondo was at the helm that day. Her quick response jerked the heavy cruiser forward and down as the two groups of enemy weapons simultaneously exploded,