[Black Fleet Crisis] - 03 by Tyrants Test (Michael Mcdowell)

Author:Tyrants Test (Michael Mcdowell) [Test, Tyrants]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-03-10T13:34:58+00:00

(Chapter 7

Bathed in the brilliant fire of the cluster’s many suns, three New Republic warships made their entry into star system ILC-905 in the formation known as triangle-high-forward.

On the point, a hundred kilometers ahead of the others, was the picket Folna, with all its sensitive antennae passively scanning in all directions to the limit of their range. Trailing in the flank position was another vessel of the same size, the gunship Vanguard. In the anchor position, flying parallel to Vanguard, was the command vessel for the patrol group—the cruiser Indomitable, under Commodore Brand.

Though Folna’s sensing officer was reporting all displays clear, both the cruiser’s and the gunship’s primary and secondary armaments were at combat readiness, with their accumulators half charged, their aiming coils warm, and their crews on two-hour rotations. In addition, three of Indomitable’s five squadrons, including Red Flight’s K-wing bombers, were fully armed and lined up for deployment, with their pilots standing by.

It would take just twelve seconds to bring the gun batteries to full power. Thirty-five seconds after the klaxon sounded in the bays, the first E-wings would clear Indomitable’s flight deck.

Or if Brand didn’t like the odds, a word from him—and ninety seconds to spin up the hyperdrives—would have all three ships wheeling about and jumping out to safety.

Despite those precautions, the tension aboard all three ships was palpable. On the bridge of Indomitable, it was excruciating. The patrol group was hunting for the enemy in the enemy’s own territory, and it would be just their bad luck, thought Brand, if they should find them.

Or, worse still, be found.

In any space patrol, there was an irreducible risk of being seen by an enemy they could not see. That risk was multiplied many times over by the richness of Koornacht Cluster’s starfields.

Even with the best available instruments, an Imperial-class

Star Destroyer was undetectable against the background of a first-magnitude star at a range of only six thousand kilometers. A ship the size of Vanguard could creep within three hundred klicks without being spotted.

Any inattention, any errors of assessment, any deficiencies in the systems, and those margins would narrow still further.

Active sensing—a laser pulse, a radar

ping—could

remove

that vulnerability, separating a nearby ship from a distant star. But active sensing created a vulnerability of its own, announcing their presence like a shout in the night.

As they had been for the last nine system entries, the active sensors of the patrol group were silent. Brand was counting on the skill of the seven officers seated at the passive-sensing stations in Folna’s darkened elint compartment—the bug box, in ship slang.

Sharp eyes and clear minds, Brand thought as he restlessly paced Indomitable’s bridge. The debacle at Doornik 319 had been embarrassment enough to his command. No more surprises. No more mistakes.

“Look after your station, Lieutenant,” he barked, stopping behind a Hrasskis officer and leaning in to jab a finger toward the console.

“You’ve got a yellow on your check board.”

“I’m on it, sir.”

“Twelfth planet entering our scan radius in one minute,” called out one of the cruiser’s own elint specialists.

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