Wing Commander #07 False Color by William Forstchen (novels for students TXT) 📗

from the engines. We will ram the apes if that is the only way to ensure they don't see home again. Engineering, coordinate with the helm. I want self-destruct systems rigged to explode the ship as we reach the cruiser. Full destruct-reactors, ordnance, auxiliary generators, munitions and fuel stores . . . everything rigged to the computer destruct program."

"Yes, my Lord." The engineering officer looked shaken, but raised no word of protest.

"Communications, I will record a message." "Ready, Lord Admiral."

Largka paused for moment in contemplation before speaking into the microphone at his side. "This is Admiral Largka Cakg dai Nokhtak. Karga is the last ship of the squadron, and we have lost shields while passing close to an anomalous brown dwarf in the Vaku system. As a result, lethal dosages of radiation will soon render the ship's crew dead, something the apes who have attacked us could not do themselves."

He paused, seeing the orange jungles of Kilrah again in his mind's eye. One last hunt would have been pleasant, but the God of Was demanded otherwise. "Even in death we have a last chance to grasp the enemy in our claws. Our last surviving opponent appears incapable of maneuver, and I have ordered an intercept course. We will destroy the ship once it is close alongside the Terran cruiser, so we will not go to the afterlife without a proper escort of our dead and defeated foes. Weapons stations should continue to fire as they are able, until the end. We die for the glory of the Empire, and to honor the hero whose name our vessel bears. Remember the words of the Tenth Codex: Even in Death the can be Victory!"

He signaled to the communications officer that he was finished. "Have that announcement broadcast on all internal comm channels," he ordered. "And send it by hypercast with the appropriate codes inserted, so that Governor Ragark knows Karga has carried out his final duty to the Empire."

"Yes, my Lord."

Largka contemplated his tactical monitor, content in the knowledge that his death, and the deaths of these valiant warriors, would not be in vain.

Bridge, TCS Juneau Near Vaku VII, Vaku System 1400 hours (CST)

"God damn it, that bastard's changing course and powering up his maneuver drives!"

Tereshkova called up the tactical plot and quickly confirmed Lindstrom's report The Kilrathi supercarrier was changing vector, all right . . . and the projected course would bring them straight in to an intercept with the Juneau. "You don't suppose the Cats are coming alongside so we can extend our shields around them, do you?" someone said behind her. "Maybe their comm system's down and they can't accept the surrender offer."

As if in response energy pulsed from the carrier's forward turret. "If that's a surrender, I'm a Cat pacifist," Lindstrom said. The cruiser's screens handled the incoming fire, but Tereshkova could see that the shield reserves were getting weaker by the minute.

"What about the maneuver drives?" she asked. "Any progress getting them back?"

"Negative, skipper," Lindstrom told her. "Graham says half the section's fused together back there. We're not stepping out of the way on this one."

"Estimated time to course intersect?"

"Five minutes, Captain," the helmsman reported crisply. He might have been commenting on the weather back home.

"We can't blow them up . . . we can't get the hell out of the way." Tereshkova met Lindstrom's eyes. "Ever see any statistics on the survival prospects of a cruiser getting rammed by a supercarrier?"

He shrugged. "Not that I remember," he said with a sour, gallows humor smile. "And I doubt it would matter much if we could survive a collision. If that Cat over there realizes that his people are going to cop it from this weird brown dwarf's radiation anyway, he's liable to order the destruct systems armed. That way he gets us even if we don't collide. Probably takes out any last-minute lifepods we dump, too."

"Options?" Tereshkova knew what they were, but she had to hear Lindstrom confirm them. When the safety of her crew was at stake, she wouldn't overlook any possibilities.

"We sit here and fry," he said. "Or we pray for a miracle with the weapons or the drives . . . and fry if we don't happen to get it." He paused. "Or we sound Abandon Ship. Lifepods can handle the radiation for a little while, and if we deploy our shuttles now they should be able to round up most of the crew and get them to a safe distance before the dosages become critical. There'll be casualties. A lot of them. And long-term survival's another thing entirely."

"There's a habitable moon in this system. That's something."

"And a flock of Kilrathi, too. The fighters that were cut off from their hangar deck, and that escort that withdrew. They could still be a threat."

"They're a possible problem." She jabbed a finger at the tactical display. "That's a threat." She sighed.

"Sound Abandon Ship, Mr. Lindstrom. And download the navigation data on that moon to all the shuttle computers. Better make it fast—that Cat's not going to juggle his schedule just to let us finish the job."

"Aye aye, skipper," Lindstrom said. "Permission to take the bridge during the evacuation?"

"Denied," she said harshly. "You get to your lifepod. The captain's supposed to go down with the ship. I'll ride herd on the old girl while the crew gets clear."

She turned away from Lindstrom and studied the monitor again, unwilling to let him see the emotion in her eyes.

Slowly, ponderously, the two blips on the screen that represented the Terran cruiser and the Kilrathi carrier began to move toward one another, and there was nothing Captain Tereshkova could do to stop it

Flag Bridge, KIS Karga Orbiting Vaku System 1413 hours (CST)

"Lifepods. The apes are escaping in lifepods."

Largka heard the anger in Khirgh's voice and wondered at the intelligence officer's blind hatred. Why did so many Kilrathi -- Thrakhath's followers in particular -- nurse such enmity for the Terrans? They were brave