Bright Future by SI CLARKE & Jeannette Bedard & SI CLARKE & Dani Hoots & D.M. Pruden & Dave Walsh & John Wilker

Bright Future by SI CLARKE & Jeannette Bedard & SI CLARKE & Dani Hoots & D.M. Pruden & Dave Walsh & John Wilker

Author:SI CLARKE & Jeannette Bedard & SI CLARKE & Dani Hoots & D.M. Pruden & Dave Walsh & John Wilker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: White Hart Fiction


Pavlovich wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers.

With two minutes to tick down, his eyes darted between the chronometer and his targeting sight.

For what must have been the fiftieth time he rechecked the targeting control parameters, and mentally rehearsed what he had to do.

The second they rounded the edge of the planet; the computer would scan the projected coordinates for each predefined target. It was his job to provide the intangible human element. He was the system fail safe. If, for some reason one or all the ships failed to turn up where expected, he would be called upon to visually search for them. The odds of any of the vessels changing speed or course were small. Without knowing precisely what Kirchoff was doing while out of their sight, they had no choice but to follow on the same trajectory or risk the certainty of losing their prey.

Still, there was always the chance of engine failure or the unpredictability of a human captain who believes himself to be smarter than his ship’s computer. As a cadet, Pavlovich had sat through the self-congratulatory guest lectures of more than a few veteran commanders. Some of them had been capable, admirable captains, much like Arno. Others, however, attributed themselves with godlike preternatural abilities which they claimed made their intuition more reliable than computer projections. The unspoken implication was that few possessed such a rare and indefinable quality that they did. The stories that he’d bothered to check usually did not stand up to the embellished recollections he’d endured.

As the clock ticked down the final seconds, he hoped he’d live long enough to become one of those self-deluded old commanders.

The chronometer clicked zero. A nanosecond later three green lights and one red lit up his panel. All but one of the enemy vessels had been located.

Even as the computer started to unleash the programmed barrage of rail gun fire, his eyes frantically darted about the sighting scope, desperately searching for the missing ship.

He spotted it, slightly off its projected trajectory, as if its commander followed a hunch about what Kirchoff intended.

Perhaps this captain possessed the ineffable quality others claimed, because the fourth vessel was on an intercept course with them.

Pavlovich moved quickly. As if his hands were directed by someone else, his fingers played across the interface, redeploying a rail gun. Even as he pressed the button to fire, he saw the other ship’s gun port doors opening.

But the otherwise wily commander had not truly believed himself to be correct. His weapons were not ready to take advantage of his lucky guess.

Before the ports were fully opened, Kirchoff’s volley ripped the entire bow of the ship apart. Even as they sped past the flaming wreck, the computer took over and resumed its program, firing repeatedly into the side of the vessel until nothing remained but a dispersing debris field.

Unbidden, the shock over what he’d done rose up inside Pavlovich like an overwhelming tide. He shook uncontrollably. Cold sweat ran down his forehead and into his eyes, mingling with the tears he could not keep at bay.



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