Contact: The Expansion Series Book 2 by Devon C. Ford

Author:Devon C. Ford [Ford, Devon C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DHP Publishing
Published: 2018-10-27T16:00:00+00:00

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“On my go, fire everything we have and do not stop until I say so or we run out of ammunition.” Captain Hayes growled at his bridge crew, seemingly enjoying the prospect of a no-holds-barred firefight when they were already half dead in the water. As long as he had breath in his body then the Hammer would still be fighting.

“What do we do then, Captain?” asked his helmswoman loudly with a smile on her face as she nursed the battered frigate into a blockading position to protect the huge target of the Venture from the twelve remaining inbound alien ships.

“Then, Ensign Canham, we use bad language and small arms,” he replied, just as she knew he would and hence providing the much-needed morale boost for the crew.

“Targets marked, weapons range in one-hundred-ten seconds…” Hayes’ tactical officer reported. The captain sat down and gave his final string of orders before what he expected to be the final battle of his command. He had ordered them to come about, as some of his starboard gun positions had been damaged in their first clash. All of the ready-ammunition from those damaged and useless positions had been ordered to be shipped to the far side of the frigate so that the guns on that side could fire almost constantly if required. He truly planned to unload everything he had and go down shooting so that the Venture stood every chance of surviving the fight.

“Tactical officers: you may fire when you have a targeting solution. All gun teams: consider yourselves weapons-free when targets are in range. Concentrate fire three guns to one target and prioritize. If you hit one, every gun will fire at its partner vessel before the asshole kamikazes our shields. Good huntin’. Hayes out.”

“Sir, shields are down to twenty-nine percent,” reported a worried voice from somewhere to his right.

“Boost all auxiliary power to shields; I want the port side running higher than everywhere else to begin with. Where are we with evacuation of the damaged decks?”

“Decks three through five all evacuated, Sir,” called out an officer manning a terminal hastily rigged to coordinate damage control operations, “decks seven and nine still being evacuated.”

“Divert all power from decks three, four and five to auxiliary banks,” Hayes ordered, “cut life support and gravity; lock it down cold.”

“Warheads away!” Yelled the weapons tactical officer, nervous tension forcing the words to sound almost hysterically excited. Hayes didn’t need the words yelled to know exactly what had happened. The rippling vibrations heading from bow to stern told him that almost every warhead they still possessed was now streaking through the dark on a course to detonate, hopefully, in the path of the incoming alien ships.

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