Pirates of the Jovian Sector (Commonwealth of Planets Book 3) by Tom Noel-Morgan

Author:Tom Noel-Morgan [Noel-Morgan, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-07-16T22:00:00+00:00

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Part 13

The Debris Field

The Old Restless lumbered between the moons of Jupiter with much caution. The massive new set of nuclear engines had contributed to make the Terra Victor into a faster ship, but it was still only as fast as a ship of its class could be.

The ageing escort carrier had arrived in force, packed with fighter wings and towing three Falchion-class missile-boats docked with it. The ship’s crew had expected to turn up in time to join the blockade of Jupiter requested by Commissar Tudor, but as they arrived it had become painfully evident that they had missed that opportunity.

The clang of metal against metal echoed within the hull of the Claymore-class warship, and it took the soldiers stationed within no time to conclude that the noise came mostly from the fragments of wrecked Legion ships. On Captain Marcus’ bridge, the officers gasped at the sight of the drifting debris field. Among the clustered remnants of the derelict ships, bloated corpses still floated inertly in the void. Frozen. Lifeless.

Suddenly, the Hypermatrix displays of the bridge officers all lit-up like a Christmas tree, while the bridge crew – alarmed at the moving chevrons and hovering data – broke away from its trance of melancholy, to step lively to perform their duty. After almost two hours of their slow advance through that sea of sadness and destruction, the ship’s Hypermatrix network suddenly started to pick-up on signs of life amid the ruined vessels. A sub-lieutenant’s trembling voice was first to sound off. “Captain Marcus, we have survivors! They’re on sector coordinates ten by twenty-two by fifty-four just off the prow by five-thousand kilometres.”

The old-hand replied assertively. “Very well commander, don’t just stand there. Trot off to the hangar bay and start organising rescue parties. Send out shuttles to recover the survivors and alert the medical bay to prepare to receive the wounded,” the bridge officer saluted the commodore and rushed out to carry out his orders. Meanwhile, Marcus continued: “Helm, heave-to and prepare to open bay doors. Comms, establish contact with Europa and get a sitrep from the colonial governor.”

In the background, the crackle of radio interference resonated raucously from the intercom, and the comms officer announced: “Sir, there’s a weak signal coming in. I’m boosting it to clear the audio reception.”

A while later, the unmistakable pompous voice of Commissar Tiber Tudor could be heard. “I am glad you’ve finally arrived, commodore. We did not have long left to live.”

With a smile of relief Martius Marcus signalled for a channel to be opened and said: “I don’t mind being late for a battle as long as I’m here at the end of one. Stand by to receive a rescue shuttle, Commissar Tudor. I’ll bring you and your command crew back home to the Terra Victor in no time.”

“I’m afraid you won’t need a very big ship, my friend… There aren’t many of us left, but don’t take too long commodore,” said the commissar coughing, “the acting captain of the Void

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