Faulkner beckoned Webster over. “Are there many personnel down there?”

  “A few on gunnery positions. The important thing is that the blast wall seems to have done its job.”

  If it hadn’t, the whole ship would have been compromised.

  “Very well,” Faulkner said. “Get a relief crew down there. See what they can do.” ​ ​

  *

  Webster squatted down beside Faulkner and lowered his voice.

  “Sir, I know I’m a little new to all this but what precisely has just happened?”

  Faulkner stared back at him, inscrutable as always.

  “I’m imagining a proximity detonation: five thousand kilometres out or thereabouts. By normal standards, almost a direct hit. How are you finding it? The job, I mean.”

  Webster was taken aback. It was an odd question to be asked in such circumstances.

  “Nerve wracking, if I’m honest.”

  “I’d like to say you’ll get used to it, but I’d be lying.”

  Webster went over and commandeered one of the consoles. As he was cycling through the views of the various gunnery stations, his worst fears were confirmed. One of the forward gunnery stations wasn’t responding and, despite his best efforts, he was unable to raise them. He opened a line to the chief gunnery officer with whom he discussed what their next course of action should be. They agreed to send down an engineering team complete with a medic. That way, they’d be able to check for survivors while also inspecting the gunnery station to see if any damage had been sustained. Webster stipulated that he wanted the relief crew in pressure suits. If there was even a chance that there’d been a loss of atmosphere down there, he wanted them suited up.

  While this was going on, he was aware of Bertran – under Faulkner’s direction - launching a fresh wave of attacks against the enemy ships. He wondered just how long this was likely to continue. The strain on the faces of the bridge crew was plain for all to see. They’d been on duty for over twelve hours and all needed a break. At the same time, he was aware that they would most likely stay at their posts unless given a direct order to stand down.

  This is it! Webster realised.

  Actual combat. The thing he’d been yearning for his whole adult life.

  It was totally different to what he’d expected.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Rodgers shrugged his pressure suit on over his shoulders. It was a tight fit and there was very little room to manoeuvre in the tiny corridor where they’d chosen to get changed. There were six of them in all, most of whom he already knew.

  Once he’d adjusted the collar and the sleeves, Rodgers waited while Ozaki, his opposite number, squeezed into hers. When she’d finished, they went over one another’s seals. This was Ozaki’s first posting, she was only twenty-one but had a quickness and a confidence about her which had immediately impressed him. Rodgers might have been four years older yet he still tended to defer to her on most things. But, this was different.

  In vacuum, experience was king.

  Rodgers had logged over a hundred and thirty hours in a pressure suit while Ozaki had less than thirty, which made him the boss.

  The collar ring was always the most vulnerable part on any suit and Rodgers took the extra time to go round the inside of the rim with his fingers. When he was satisfied, he stepped back and waited while Ozaki returned the favour. All the while, the CWO, the Chief Warrant Officer, was moving between the various members of the team, double checking everything.

  Once the suits were on and the Chief Warrant Officer was satisfied, they set about securing their helmets. The helmets were by far the most expensive part of their kit and they handled them accordingly. Rodgers slowly lowered Ozaki’s over her head before securing it. Once the helmet’s electrical systems were activated, the visor switched from opaque to clear. Ozaki gave him the thumbs up to confirm that everything was functioning and that she was breathing properly. It was this attention to detail which built up the trust between the various crewmembers. It wasn’t much talked about, yet implicitly understood that if anything happened to Ozaki while she was in vacuum, Rodgers would be held partially responsible. This was something which weighed heavily on all of them and was one of the main reasons why this particular routine was conducted in a near reverential silence.

  It was only when both of them were happy that everything was working properly that they donned their final item of clothing: their gloves. The pair of them were the first to finish and so bent to check over their welding equipment. Rodgers had qualified as a welder before joining the navy and so when the opportunity had presented itself for him to develop those skills in a hard vacuum, he’d jumped at the chance. Though, if he’d realised just how difficult the training would be, he might have had second thoughts. Long term, however, being able to weld with a laser had proved invaluable. Hulls were in constant need of repair and even the Chief Engineer had picked his work out for praise. Now, with everyone moving towards a war footing, it looked like his skills were going to prove invaluable.

  The last thing the six strong team did before entering the stricken area was to secure themselves using their tethers. There was nothing more for it, they’d been given their orders when they had received their suits. Still, the Chief Warrant Officer made them wait until they’d received the ‘all- clear’ from the bridge before addressing them.

  “Okay, now just remember: don’t screw up anything more than it’s screwed up already. Your first priority is to check for survivors. Johansson’s the medic so listen to what he has to say. Also, try to remember: these people are going to be spooked so handle with care. You got that? Good. C.P.O. Crosby, you’re in charge.”

  Once he’d gone, Rodgers stood behind Ozaki and the rest of them, one hand on the handrail, the other holding his equipment while the corridor slowly de-pressurised. He didn’t know what the situation was like on the other side of the door but he was sceptical about finding any survivors alive. They’d all done the training. They knew what rapid de-pressurisation could do to the human body. That was probably why no one was indulging in the usual banter. They were bracing themselves for what was to come.

  It was Crosby, the Chief Petty Officer standing at the front, who was tasked with opening the hatch. Crosby wasn’t the most physically imposing figure but he was volatile and quick with his fists, and that made people wary of him. Rodgers didn’t have much time for him – the man had a reputation for getting things done but he was also renowned for cutting corners. But Rodgers was stuck with him now, at least for the short term.

  They stood in silence as Crosby pressed himself against the hatch. It cracked open an inch but there was no indication of air rushing back into the corridor.

  Somewhere up ahead, they had a breach.

  The compartment they moved into held the ship’s gravity generators and, after the constraints of their own quarters, seemed to them enormous, easily as big as the ship’s cargo bay. He knew the reasons why the space couldn’t be used for anything else - not even storage - but still, after the privations the crew had to put up with on a daily basis, it felt like a waste.

  The biggest irony, which escaped no one, was that there was no gravity inside the compartment itself. So, from there on in, they would be forced to use weightlessness protocols. They had to be sensible about how they proceeded and, as soon as they were inside, they wasted no time re-attaching their tethers.

  Then they used the optics in their helmets to search for possible damage.

  “Over there, look!” Ozaki was pointing to the far wall.

  Three holes had been punched clean through it, the biggest about a metre wide. These were matched with a set of corresponding holes high up on the far wall. The angle suggested that whatever had hit them had punched through from the next compartment. Anything much bigger and the ship’s integrity would have compromised. They’d have been forced to repair it straightaway. As it was, they still had time to explore further into the ship.

  The biggest problem they had to contend with was the lack of decent anchor points. They needed them for their tethers. Though they could see the hatch they needed to get to it may as well have been a million miles away. The compartment was just too sprawling for them to move about freely and, if they stuck to the meagre trail of anchor points skirting the walls they were just going to get in each other’s way. A partial solution was for them to split up and go in opposite directions, though their training cautioned against this. They were just going to have to come up with a quicker solution.

  *

  Five minutes later, they had devised an alternative plan of action. There was a gantry set roughly halfway across the room and they intended to strike out for that. Crosby had somehow managed to get his hands on a telescopic tether, the type normally only found on the ship’s exterior. No one asked him how he’d managed to come by such a specialised piece of equipment and Crosby made no effort to enlighten them.

  The good news was that one of them could now get safely over to the gantry. The bad news was that there were six of them. Crosby asked for ideas and Rodgers was the first to come up with a possible solution. They should tether themselves together and cross over as a group. This in itself was not unprecedented. It was standard practice to attach yourself to an injured crewmember in zero-g and they had all trained for it. But there was a big difference between attaching yourself to one person and attaching yourself to five. In the end, they formed themselves into a line, like a group of chorus girls, with Crosby, and his extendable tether, safe in the middle.

  Rodgers and Ozaki, having had actual experience working in zero-g, were situated at either end. Hard suits are all fitted with thrusters but they’re not easy to use and, if misapplied, can easily make a bad situation worse. So it was left to Rodgers and Ozaki to work together to propel the team across to the gantry.

  Having checked that Crosby’s tether was secure, they set off, using only short bursts from their thrusters. But, within seconds of setting off, it became clear that something was amiss as the whole enterprise started to go into a leisurely anti-clockwise spin.

  “Do you want me to try and compensate?” Ozaki said.

  “No need,” Rodgers said. “Just so long as someone grabs that middle pillar.”

  He had enough experience to know that it didn’t matter how you were oriented in zero-g. You just had to get there. He was more concerned that if they over-reached the tether’s limits their overall mass might be enough to snap the cable, but he didn’t say anything.

  As it turned out, they nearly did over-shoot the pillar. Ozaki came at it from an unfortunate angle but had enough presence of mind to hook it with her foot. From there she had to scramble for a decent handhold. Once they were all secure, Crosby released his tether allowing the mechanism to retract into his belt. Although there was no anchor point on the pillar itself, Crosby was able to loop it through one of the stanchions and secure it that way.

  While they got in position to make the jump to the far wall, Rodgers found his eyes drawn back to the holes in the hull. There was something particularly disturbing about the fact that he could clearly see stars twinkling on the other side. The hull was six feet thick here and this damage hadn’t even come about as a result of a direct hit.

  It was all he could think about as they made the second jump.

  From there, everything went more smoothly and, while they probably didn’t look very pretty scrabbling over the wall, the team did manage to work together long enough to bring Rodgers level with the hatch. Bracing his knees against the bulkhead, he worked to get the mechanism open and there was a fine layer of sweat on his forehead by the time he’d finished. His visor kept misting up and it was all his suit’s systems could do to keep it clear. This was why he couldn’t see particularly well by the time he ducked through into the next compartment – which was probably for the best.

  Beyond the hatchway, the compartment spread out over three decks. The whole area was built to incorporate the ship’s crumple zone and was mostly used as an area to store non-essential equipment. A lot of food was stored in there because it didn’t need refrigerating. Rodgers knew from having worked on the re-fit, that the section they were standing in was directly beneath the turret of their only working rail gun but when he glanced upwards in an effort to locate it he found himself distracted.

  A jagged hole had been torn in the bulkhead directly in front of them and through it they could see up onto the gunnery deck. By moving to his right just a few feet, Rodgers found that it was possible to look up through the top of the ship and out into the open space beyond. Things were worse than he’d thought.

  The medic, Johansson, pushed past him. He was well over six foot and as slim as a pole. He was not a natural in zero-g and there was something unintentionally comic about his movements.

  “Where is everyone?” Johansson asked. There were between twelve and fifteen crew members stationed there at all times.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Crosby said. “They’re gone.”

  “What! All of them?” Johansson’s breathing was becoming ragged. “Can’t be.”

  “Easily done if they weren’t wearing their tethers,” Rodgers observed.

  It was standard procedure to wear them during battle stations but they tended to get in the way if you were trying to work quickly. As a result, people often ‘forgot’ to attach them.

  “Yeah, but they’ll have been wearing their thin suits.”

  Crosby said, “Doesn’t make any difference if you’re out in space. Speed we’re traveling you’ve got no chance of a pick-up.”

  Crosby might have been right but no one would thank him for it.

  “What do we do now?” Ozaki said.

  “We stop hanging about,” Crosby snapped. “Johansson, take Tomei, see if you can’t find someone hanging about.”

  Johansson flinched, as if he’d been bitten. He was a nervous enough figure at the best of times. Then he started off moving towards one of the doorways, Tomei following on behind.

  “Michaels, you’re with me,” Crosby said. “Rodgers, Ozaki, get up those stairs and check out that rail gun.”

  *

  Webster listened to the damage report and shuddered. Six dead already and that from an indirect hit. The point defence teams were going to have their work cut out dealing with the next wave of missiles, because if they didn’t the Mantis wasn’t going to be around for very much longer.

  Their own second volley had achieved even less success than the first, with only a solitary missile getting through out of a total of eight. But this too appeared to have self-destructed less than a kilometre out from the enemy ship’s hull. It was starting to look as if nothing would be capable of getting through their shields.

  The distance between the two ships was closing fast and, according to the display, in less than thirteen minutes they were set to cross within fifteen thousand clicks of one another. That would dictate a complete change in their battle tactics and the crew was readying itself for the furious exchange of fire which was sure to come. Webster stopped what he was doing and stared at the visual display. That couldn’t be right. There had to be some mistake.

  Twenty-seven minutes ago, the enemy had fired a cluster of four missiles in their direction. So why was it that he was now staring at sixteen separate warheads?

  He turned to Yamada. “Am I seeing this right?”

  “Yes, sir,” he said calmly. “Sixteen missiles incoming. They went to a phase two boost stage a hundred and eighteen seconds ago.”

  Webster’s back was slick with sweat under his uniform. This showed a level of sophistication the enemy hadn’t previously demonstrated.

  He addressed Faulkner. “Sir, have you seen this?”

  “I certainly have.” Faulkner was consulting his own display on the command chair. He must have finally figured out how to do it. “They seem to be setting us up for some kind of diversionary tactic.”

  Diversionary tactic!

  Was the old man looking at the same thing he was?

  “That’s one hell of a diversion, sir. Can our lasers deal with those kinds of numbers?”

  Faulkner’s voice was calm and level. “That remains to be seen. What is interesting is that they’ve waited until this precise moment to play this particular card.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t quite understand.”

  “Think about it. Sixteen warheads is a lot of firepower, particularly at this stage in the proceedings. It’ll keep us preoccupied, no doubt, but it’s hardly enough to guarantee a compelling victory. No, it’s a diversionary tactic. Their c.o.’s not expecting to gain the advantage here, rather he’s trying not to lose it.”

  Webster nodded. “He thinks he’s going to be vulnerable at close range?”

  “Exactly. He wants to put us on the defensive. And he’s willing to sacrifice a significant part of his armaments in order to do so. He’s hoping that a show of strength at this stage will make us think twice about engaging him at close range. Normally, he’d do everything in his power to ensure he kept his distance, but today he has no choice. He has to pass us. Those missiles aren’t a sign of strength, Mr Webster, they’re a sign of weakness.”

  Webster looked to the other officers on the bridge for their reactions but they were all assiduously attending to their duties. “But how can you be so sure?”

  Faulkner held up two fists. “He’s like a boxer throwing out jabs. Sixteen, in all. Each one designed to distract us while he attempts to line us up for some kind of knock-out punch. These warheads are intended to keep us reeling. Then, once he’s by-passed us, he’ll target our engines, saving his most devastating weapon ‘til last. He wants to take us out with a sucker punch we never saw coming.”

  “I see,” Webster said. He was still struggling to process everything Faulkner had just said. How could he know all this stuff? It didn’t make any sense.

  “And we can’t allow that to happen, can we, Mr Webster?”

  “Er, no, sir.”

  *

  Rodgers was cutting away the sections of twisted metal which were stopping him getting into the rail gun compartment. It was difficult working in zero g at the best of times but the welding laser he was using added an extra layer of risk. It was more than capable of severing a limb if he didn’t watch what he was doing. Which was probably why Crosby waited for him to finish before cutting into his comms.