Hazards Near (Deception Fleet Book 3) by Daniel Gibbs & Steve Rzasa

Author:Daniel Gibbs & Steve Rzasa [Gibbs, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2021-09-18T16:00:00+00:00

Jokes about sabotage and bombs aside, the cargo hold did resemble a blast zone. Pieces of League ship were scattered everywhere. Scattered was a poor word. Chief Tabb would never scatter anything. Similar fragments and like circuitry were arrayed in clumps across the open deck. Most of the engine parts and other components, which were inferior to Coalition versions, had been dumped in deep space or were being melted down for reuse as plating patches stored in the event of a hull breach.

Chief Phillip Tabb scratched the back of his neck with the brim of his cap. His coveralls were spotted with three different shades of lubricant stains. “Hey, Skipper. Take a look at this.”

The “this” was a smattering of tiny, gnarled—insects? Mancini frowned. He would have to talk with the technicians responsible for cleaning Tuscon’s interior when they got back to the Canaan fleet yards—at least, that was his initial thought. It wasn’t until he knelt on the blue tarp and peered closer that he realized he was looking at bots. They were about the size of ladybugs and round, though their tops were a drab, pitted gray and the underside black riven with miniscule silver traceries.

“Tell me those are inert, Chief.”

“Yes, sir. Deader than dead.” Tabb had a portable scanning device in one hand, which he waved atop the pile of miniature corpses. “Remind you of anything?”

Mancini glanced at Tabb’s readout. “Well, our databases seem to think they resemble the flitters Intelligence operatives like to use, only dumber. The bots, that is.”

Tabb chuckled. “Yeah, our spooks’ tech has a lot more finesse. These things are built for bumbling around. They’ve got enough propellant in them, though. I bet they can get around in vacuum as easily as atmosphere.”

“Where’d you find them?”

“Sealed in packets, lined up in launch tubes.” Tabb brought up a new schematic, a familiar wireframe of a Rouen-class. “Never seen a modification like this one, have you, Skipper? Launch tubes embedded in the forward hull but no bigger than a rifle barrel.”

“Can’t say I have, Chief. What’s their purpose?”

Tabb shrugged. “That’s gonna take me more than an afternoon to figure out. Whatever happened to them when we jolted the scout fried their innards. The micro circuitry’s a mess. If there were any sensors for snooping about, those got melted off too. What I can tell you is the first scout launched some. The others didn’t, as near I can find.”

“Launched.”

“Yes, sir. I was gonna check in with Sensor Room and see if they can confirm a point of impact.”

“On us?”

“Maybe.” Tabb indicated the schematic. “I shouldn’t have compared these suckers to rifles. They’re more like shotguns—several packets, magnetically connected, blasted out at once in a broad, high-velocity spray.”

Mancini nodded slowly. “Given how far away the Rouen was when she appeared after her jump, if she’d launched then, the spray could have hit us and the first buoy.”

“That’s what I figure, sir.”

“Any evidence the other two scouts launched?”

“No, sir. They’re fully stocked up, but those little buggers are as fried as the rest on both craft.

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