The Honour of the Knights - Stephen J. Sweeney (mobi reader android .txt) 📗

class="western5"> “Following the previous operation, we prepared to make the jump back to Spirit.”

A dotted line made its way across the galactic map, from Aster back towards the Temper system, illustrating his point.

“As we witnessed, the jump point became unstable and we were unable to prevent our descent within. The 'jump' we experienced threw Griffin's navicoms out of sync and it took them quite sometime before they were able to establish a link with the nearest navigation buoy. If we assume the data it has transmitted is accurate, then it appears we arrived not back at Temper, but...”

He tapped at the device in hand. The galactic map zoomed out a long way, revealing yet more star systems. The dotted line traced its way, not towards Temper, but to a star system in the opposite direction to that which the carrier had intended to travel.

“... here,” Liu concluded.

The section heads gathered around the table gaped at the holographic display and the highlighted star system that the line had traced itself toward. The system was named Phylent.

“Phylent?” Parks asked in total surprise.

“Yes, sir,” Liu said.

“We're in Imperial space?!”

“I'm afraid so, sir.”

Parks' gaze shot to the many windows of the conference room and to the space outside that, thankfully, remained calm and uneventful. Even so, there were mutterings and mumblings from the others at the table as they stared in disbelief at the map. Parks' mind raced. At this very moment in time, he and his ship were in the one place that they did not want to be. He looked around those seated at the table knowing that, whilst they were aware of the danger that they faced, being in a part of space that was said to be embroiled in civil war, none could confess to appreciating the danger more than he. The failed operation to retake Dragon had merely hinted at what the Confederacy and her allies were up against, and had it not been for the ATAFs no-one would have returned home after the battle. They had to get away from Imperial space as soon as possible.

After a moment, Parks regained his composure and turned his attention back to the meeting. At this time, more than ever, he must maintain a cool, calm and collected conduct.

He called for silence. “How is that possible, Mr Liu?”

“I think that perhaps Mr Marsh could explain in more detail?” Liu said.

Heads turned to a rather thickset man seated next to Liu, who straightened up. As Griffin's chief engineer, Matthew Marsh was in a far better position to answer Parks' question.

“It seems that there was a malfunction in the jump engines, most likely caused by the damage we sustained during the battle,” Marsh began. “Unfortunately, due to the nature of the issue it was not something that we could have pinpointed until we attempted to use them.”

Parks scowled. It sounded like a very weak excuse for such a serious issue.

Marsh added, “Our pre-jump safety checks and individual unit tests reported no faults and everything seemed to be working as expected.”

“But it didn't work, did it, Mr Marsh?” Parks said, irritably.

“No, sir.”

“When we get back to Spirit, I want a full review of all jump safety checks. This could have destroyed the ship and killed everyone aboard.” This was directed at everyone within the room, though Marsh fidgeted as Parks' eyes fell upon him. “How is it that we managed to get from here to here so easily?” Parks asked after studying the galactic map for a few moments, pointing from Aster to the Phylent system, that lay close to the Imperial-Independent border.

“Well, that is actually quite interesting,” Marsh started, before back-pedalling upon seeing Parks' stony face. “Er... I think that the malfunction in the jump engines must have thrown some of the astral calculations out. However, owing to some other factors we have successfully compensated for those miscalculations. The jump computers selected a cached version of one of Phylent's navigation buoys as their destination and dropped us in a random part of the system.”

“That actually fits in with what I was thinking,” Liu said. “Phylent and Aster are more or less equidistant from Spirit. Basically, we just went the wrong way; albeit exceptionally fast.”

Parks considered the explanation for a moment. “Fine,” he said.

“A shame we don't know what the secret speed ingredient is,” Marsh started to babble. “I have to say that I am actually amazed at the distance we managed to cover in such a short space of time. I'm planning on holding on to the data from the jump, so we can analyse it once we return to Spirit. The findings could help to revolutionize space travel and...”

“Put it in a report,” Parks said, waving away the rest of the comment. Right now he was not prepared to allow the man to indulge his knowledge and enthusiasm for the inner workings of interstellar transportation. “And I think you'll also find that the secret ingredient you are searching for is just plain dumb luck, Mr Marsh. By all rights this carrier should have been ripped apart.” He looked back to Griffin's navigator. “Mr Liu, from here how long would it take for us to return to Spirit?”

Liu frowned. “Under ideal circumstances? Roughly twelve, thirteen hours.”

“And with the engines in their current state?” Parks once again addressed the chief engineer.

“I would say we are looking at sixteen to twenty hours, if not a little longer,” Marsh said. “However, the engines aren't in a state where we could safely make another jump.”

“And how long before we can?”

“I've not had enough time to estimate the cost of the damage to all the dependent systems, sir.”

Parks sighed. “I realise that Mr Marsh, but I need the best answer you can give me.”

“I would reckon around nine hours.”

Parks nodded as he digested the information. They were looking at a time frame of more than a day before they were back at Spirit. If the ATAFs had not been aboard, he could have ordered they jump back to an Independent system. But he knew that such a move was not an option, since that could result in the discovery of the advanced starfighters by an Independent World state. The Confederation were already hard-pressed to keep the fighters under wraps, without dumping them in the middle of a random system for anyone to gawk at. They would just have to take their chances here.

“Okay,” Parks said to Marsh. “Begin the work as soon as this meeting is over. Now, I need the rest of you to find members of your respective teams who may be able to lend their skills to repairs and maintenance. I shouldn't need to reiterate to any of you that, in its current state, Griffin is a sitting duck. Most of her major systems are operational, but shielding is minimal and we have little in the way of offensive measures. We are also unable to deploy what remains of our starfighter complement easily; the cargo holds are simply not equipped to launch fighters at the rate we'd need to fend off attackers.”

He thought of the cargo holds. Whilst those holding the ATAFs contained nothing more than the five fighters themselves, the others were crammed full of Griffin's starfighters. Deploying them in an emergency would be next to impossible.

Those around the table appeared to all be in agreement with his plan, their eyes drifting from the holographic display, to the quiet space outside. The words “Imperial Space”, “Phylent” and “Griffin” were far too close together on the galactic map for anyone's liking; especially his own.

Parks continued his delegation. “I need a seventy-thirty split in duties for repairs to the jump engines and repairs to the flight deck. It is vital that we get out of this system and away from Imperial space as soon as possible; but it is just as important that, in the highly likely event that we are discovered by enemy forces, we are able to defend ourselves.”

“Yes, sir,” came the resounding answer from those assembled.

“Lieutenant Weathers, have you managed to contact either Ifrit or Leviathan?” he asked of a woman who was sitting further down the table.

Weathers, now working as communications officer in place of O'Donnell, flipped through some papers as she spoke. “We don't believe that Ifrit and Leviathan are within range. It does not appear that they followed us into the jump point and may not be aware of our current position. It is unlikely that they were able to follow us either, given the unstable nature of the jump point.”

It was as Parks had suspected: they were on their own. “Very well. Is there anything else?” Parks' query was met by head shakes and silence. “Then let's get to work immediately. We have a lot to do and very little time to spare. Get moving, people.”

As the staff officers left, Parks noticed that Weathers was hovering, waiting for everyone else to vacate the room.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” he asked once they were alone.

“An encrypted communication has come in from CSN HQ, sir.”

“From HQ? Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir. It arrived just before the meeting.” Weathers seemed as surprised as he was.

“Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll take it in my private office.”

Weathers nodded and left Parks to ponder the speed at which the Confederation Stellar Navy had succeeded in pinpointing his location, so soon after their recent accident.

* * *

Compared to the rest of the ship, Parks' private office was far more lavishly decorated. Wood panelling covered much of the cold, grey steel and a number of colourful ornaments were scattered here and there. A handful of small paintings hung on the walls, depicting Griffin and other vessels. Parks' eyes strayed to the painting of Dragon as he made his way to his desk and the commodore caught himself wondering of how different things might have been had their mission been a success.

Activating the computer screen at his desk, he saw the CSN message. The screen read,

Encrypted Message Received

FTAO: Commodore Elliott F. Parks

On either side of the greeting resided an image of a padlock, further emphasising that the message was secured. Parks tapped “Read” with his finger tip and was duly challenged to authentic his identity to the system, prompting him for a password, iris scan, and voice recognition. Both the iris scan and voice recognition took a number of attempts to verify. It appeared the system was still suffering. After a time, the message playback started.

“I hope this message finds you well, Elliott,” a grating voice began.

Parks was stunned to see that he was looking at a video recorded by Admiral Turner. The picture and audio were suffering; he guessed it was a result of the damage to Griffin, rather than the message itself. He moved closer to the display, to listen carefully to what the Fleet Admiral had to say: right now, he could do with all the advice he could get.

Turner went on. “After you failed to return to Spirit with Commodore Hawke or Captain Meyers, we immediately began a galaxy-wide sweep. Luckily for us, it did not take very long to locate you. Since you arrived within a formerly inhabited Imperial system, we were able to detect Griffin quite quickly. In case you do not already know, you are in the Phylent system, close to the Imperial-Independent border.

“First of all, do not concern yourself with the outcome of your mission to retake Dragon. We both knew that this was never going to be an easy task to accomplish, and once again we have both been given a truly unpleasant reminder of the kind of enemy we are up against.”

Parks was in total agreement. He recalled how, when he had mentioned the appearance of Dragon within Independent World space and his plans to ambush and retake the massive battleship, the admiral had warned him of the risks. Though the admiral had given him his full backing at the time, Parks wished he hadn't been so hasty.

“Secondly, I understand that Griffin has been heavily damaged in battle,” the video message continued. “I have dispatched Meyers to your position, along with a number of repair and medical vessels. They will not be with you for several hours yet, so I need you and your boys to sit tight. Imperial space is certainly not a place you wish to find yourself adrift and defenceless.

“I shouldn't have to remind you either that whilst you are close to Independent World space, there will be no help coming from those frontier systems, since you should be more than aware that they have already been evacuated. Even if they could help, there would be great reluctance to do so, given the tremendous loss of life resulting from the destruction of the carrier support they laid on for us. I advise that we not seek to