On the Rocks Read online

  Copyright © 2020 Peter Rhodan

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN-13: 9781234567890

  ISBN-10: 1477123456

  Cover design by: Art Painter

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 1

  Edge of Federation Space

  Federation Fleet Captain Arturo Sanders watched the flashing silvery dots in front of his eyes fade and the bridge come into view again as the effects of the warp jump dissipated and his stomach re-settled itself as it lost the queasiness it had been bubbling with through the jump. He long been grateful that his physical reaction to the warp jumps was fairly mild and soon faded and he once more silently thanked his ancestors for the mild reaction he had inherited. Because of his mild reaction, unlike many travellers, he had met one of the prerequisites of joining the navy because by necessity the crew of a warship needed to be able to function straight out of a warp jump.

  “Shields Ensign Anderson.” he ordered crisply.

  “On it already sir.” Came the quick reply from the petite blond Ensign who was still full of youthful enthusiasm, somehow.

  “What have we got Charlie?” he enquired turning to the tall First Lieutenant standing at his shoulder, his hand tapping his side. Charles Williamson the Fifth was from one of the rich, powerful and above all oldest families in the Federation which meant that he was young for his rank, influence had long been as important as any other attribute in the slow to progress ranks of the Navy. He was only thirty five and this was his second tour as an executive officer as opposed to Arturo's own first stint as an XO which had not come till he was just on forty. Arturo had not served as XO on a cruiser till he was over forty five. Still Charles Williamson the Fifth had proved to be a likeable fellow which Arturo had been surprised at and he had never tried to play on his familial connections in his dealings with his commanding officer.

  There was a pause before his XO made his reply as that gentleman in his expertly tailored utilities was still checking data from the array of scanners the ship carried. “We have six bogies sir. Usual hexagon deployment for Imperial Warp Point defence batteries.” For all his foppishness the First Lieutenant was also one of the most hard working and reliable officers Arturo had ever met.

  Said Lieutenant glanced over as the Captain acknowledged this information with a small nod and a mumbled "hmm". There was always a chance that there would have been nothing at the jump point, perhaps not a great chance but still a chance seeing they were right at the edge of the known Imperial space after all. Six of the Imperial defence platforms wouldn’t present any problems to a modern heavy cruiser like the Hood which was less than three years old. He was only the second captain of the ship since her commissioning and the ship's initial captain had left him a taught, capable crew. The Federation liked heavy cruisers as they offered a good balance between combat ability and cost. They only took a half the time to build as a battleship, cost rather less than a third and needed only a third of the crew to fully man them yet three heavy cruisers like the Hood could be reasonably certain of taking a battleship in an even fight. Of course trying to stop a jump point mauler would be another matter entirely.

  “Open fire whenever you are ready Mr Kuznetzov” He ordered another blonde ensign, this time of the male variety, stationed to the right of Ensign Anderson.

  “Aye aye sir” the boyish Mikel Kuznetzov answered formally. This was his first combat cruise and he had only joined the ship three weeks before. Normally the Second Lieutenant would have been in his chair for a jump like this into unknown space but Adrienne Aldershot had fallen in the shower, of all stupid things, and broken her arm three days ago and manning the weapons console for the jump had fallen into the lap of the young Ensign. Kuznetzov was clearly nervous and his fingers repeatedly hesitated as he instructed the combat computer to select targets and open fire. A good thing we aren’t facing real combat ships, Arturo thought watching him, still the experience would do him good. The ensign probably felt he had every pair of eyes on the bridge glued to his performance as he squirmed uncomfortably in his chair.

  “Grav sensors say the platforms have opened fire sir.” Lieutenant Williamson commented a few seconds later. The distance was too far for electromagnetic detectors to report the pulse now streaming toward the ship from the Imperial defence platforms but the gravitational effects of the plasma fire could be detected almost immediately. The huge compression needed to produce the plasma pulses created a tell-tale change in the local gravity which could be detected for light seconds and even further with very sensitive gear.

  The bridge crew, with the exception of Mikel Kuznetzov, were all showing the calm of veteran spacers who had undertaken this particular scenario on numerous occasions previously. Assaulting Imperial Defence Platforms was easily the most common combat experience they would encounter during their careers as the Federation slowly expanded back into what was formerly Imperial space, especially as they had yet to find any other large successor state. The seconds passed in a relaxed silence as they waited for the first incoming fire to arrive.

  “Impact in ten seconds sir” Williamson reported, breaking the silence of the bridge.

  The ship showed no sign whatsoever as the first plasma pulses impacted on the shields. The next impact occurred barely seconds later followed immediately by the third. Ensign Anderson suddenly cursed and muttered something unintelligible while her fingers started working furiously on the panel in front of her.

  “We have a problem with the main shield sir!” She announced sharply.

  “What sort of problem?” The captain replied sharply.

  “It’s failing sir!” She almost yelled, panic in her voice. “I don't know what’s wrong but it’s going down sir!”

  Arturo flicked his finger over a panel on the arm of his chair opening a ship wide communications channel. “All crew seal and prepare for damage as we have a problem with the main shield. Engineering, I want it fixed now!”

  Command centre crew flipped over their transparent hoods from where they hung off the back of the neck of their uniforms and secured them to their collars with the built in magnetic dogs. Once sealed the internal air system came online and pressurised them, the plastic metal taking on a fish-bowl like appearance.

  The next salvo of plasma pulses hit the shield without getting through but red lights began blinking on Anderson's console. The panel on the left arm of Sanders chair mimicked her console and began drawing his attention down as he frowned at the unwelcome lights. "Talk to me Anderson." He asked the Ensign calmly. He had been in serious situations before and knew that the commanding officer had to maintain a steady calm no matter how bad the situation to help prevent the crew from panicking.

  "I cannot get any response sir. Something to do with the power supply I think." She relied, panic still straining her voice.

  "Engineering. We need power to the shields now!"
Arturo commanded over his direct feed to the engineering department. Whatever the reply was going to be was drowned out by the incredible crashing noise of multiple plasma bolt impacts and the immediate wailing sound of alarm sirens.

  "Damage report!" Arturo almost yelled into the comms pickup in his helmet. His reply was static. "Shit!" He muttered and heaved himself out of his command chair, almost running to the engineering control console on the bridge where fourth Lieutenant, David Myers was trying to establish contact with the Chief who was in charge of the forward damage control party.

  One look at the engineering display brought a blighted expletive to the Captain’s lips and a hollow feeling to his stomach. He had to choose between trying to kill the Imperial batteries before his ship was destroyed or simply abandoning ship and saving most of his crew. These static Imperial batteries were usually easy targets for modern ships, well at least those equipped with shields that worked! The Imperial Defence Platforms had been originally designed to defeat huge Imperial Dreadnoughts, but free of the dead hand of Imperial rule that had stifled research and development for centuries, modern weapons advances had rendered them practically obsolete and a fixed battery such as they faced could be outmatched by even a modern destroyer if it was well handled.

  But without shields his only course of action was clear and he didn’t hesitate hitting the comms button. “Attention crew. This is the captain. Abandon ship! This is not a drill. I repeat this is not a drill. All hands abandon ship!” As soon as he finished he hit the alarm buzzer located on the upper portion of the engineering console so that even those in the damaged forward compartments might be able to hear the alarm even if the comms circuits were down. Without shields there was no way they would be able to reduce the Imperial batteries before the damage was horrendous and the loss of life enormous. He was sure he was making the right decision and he hoped the Court Martial hearing would agree. The plasma charges already en route would probably be enough to destroy the ship even if they could destroy the batteries quickly.

  People over ships had always been a mantra in the Federation Navy, although Arturo had doubts about how long that mantra would last against a real opponent, if and or when the Federation did finally have to face a real multi system opponent, as it expanded into the wreckage of the former Empire. The Federation couldn't be the only successor state to emerge after the fall of the empire but so far it had only encountered the occasional individual system that had recovered enough to re-develop space flight. The isolation engendered when the defence platform network had been hacked, turning them into autonomous anti-ship platforms had basically isolated every Imperial world from its brethren and the speed with which it occurred had led to the complete collapse of the Empire. The fact that the hacking of the Defence platforms software had occurred in the middle of a catastrophic civil war had only worsened the situation.

  Lieutenant Williamson could only look at him in the horror even as the rest of the Bridge crew began to leave their stations. He hesitated as if he wanted to remonstrate with the captain but before he could say anything the ship shuddered with the next impact. Damage report lights lit up on the console which Lieutenant Myers made as if he was going to deal with them but Arturo pushed him out of the way, turning him towards the exit. “Go Myers!” He looked round and waved his arm towards the door leading from the bridge. “All of you get out now!” He saw the look of anguish on Lieutenant Williamson’s face. “You too Charlie. Go! Just go!”

  As the rest of the Bridge crew streamed out Lieutenant Williamson drew himself up to attention and saluted before following the rest out the door, urging them along before he’d even cleared the Bridge. He knew exactly how painful the decision must have been for an officer like Arturo Sanders who lacked the support of a powerful family. In a society with an average age of over three hundred years, promotion was slow for the ordinary officers. Arturo had spent twenty five years as a Lieutenant and he'd been lucky to get promoted to Commander and given his own small first command as early as he had been. Since then he had already spent nearly twenty years as a Captain and the Hood was the biggest, most modern command he had been given charge of so far. As opposed to his Academy class mate Rogere Murdoch, second son of the heir to the main Murdoch family line. The Murdochs were rich industrialists, powerful political figures and a family with several senior officers in the Federation Navy as well. Rogere was already captain of one of the Federations latest Battleships and was expected to be made up to Commodore any time soon.

  Arturo turned back to the engineering console even as the ship shook with a new salvo of the plasma arriving. He called up a holographic diagram of the ship noting that some areas were already black outlined red which meant they were unpowered and probably open to space, completely destroyed or a combination of both. Fortunately these were mostly in areas forward of where there had been crew stationed, being largely composed of food storage areas and water reaction mass tanks so the loss of life would not be too horrendous. The only serious damage area appeared to be a strike roughly where the Marine's were berthed. Hopefully they had all escaped their barracks area before it had hit.

  He read through the damage alerts but there was no response from any of them to his queries. The lack of response meant that either the reporting crew had escaped the area or were incapacitated and probably dead. He didn’t really want to leave anyone behind but he couldn’t physically check all those parts of the ship himself. Thankfully the telltales for live crew in undamaged sections showed them beginning to congregate at the shuttle bay. Another salvo hit the ship and several more areas in the lower forward part of the ship changed to black on the damage display hologram with a large strip heading back on the port side finishing below the bridge changed to yellow indicating there was still power but the area was open to space.

  He was just turning away when a new, crew initiated, damage alert flashed to life amidst the ever expanding yellow area. He acknowledged it, immediately recognising the frantic voice that came over the com. “This is Lieutenant Aldershot. I’m in the corridor outside the medical bay. I have medical attendant Cranston here, he’s unconscious, and I can’t drag him myself with my immobilised arm. Can you detail someone to come and help, over.”

  Arturo glanced at the ship display and used his fingers to blow up the area dear the medical bay to memorise the route there. “Right Aldershot. Be there in two minutes.” Without waiting for a reply he cut the com before running from the bridge because he was easily the closest person to the problem due to the rest of the crew preparing to evacuate and besides, as captain it was his responsibility to make sure everyone got off the doomed ship. He flew down the corridor then slid down the stairs to the next level rather than use the grav lift to save time. Three quick paces, then a right turn into the cross corridor and another two paces brought him to the last bulkhead before the sealed off damaged section that Aldershot had reported from.

  He hit the panel to close the hatch behind him as he stepped through, sealing off this section of corridor. If he didn’t the ship’s systems would not let him open the further bulkhead beyond because the corridor there was depressurised. He ran to the bulkhead, slamming his fist into the emergency override and with a hiss the panel disappeared into the corridor wall where he found himself facing a very relieved looking Lieutenant Aldershot.

  “Sir?” She spluttered, obviously startled when she realised her rescuer was actually the captain. He brushed past heading for the immobile form lying in the corridor near the sick bay entrance.

  “Explain later.” He said curtly and bent to examine the fallen spacer.

  “A cabinet fell on him.” Aldershot offered as she came and knelt next to him. The man’s helmet had been knocked askew but appeared intact, certainly he was breathing. Arturo stood up and brought his command bracelet in range of the door panel, overriding its normal operation. He triggered a two-dimensional view of the ship with damage marked and then told it to highlight shuttles. The ship was in a bad way but h
e could see the bulk of the damage was still confined to the forward areas and the outer hull apart from a black area right in the middle of marine country.

  There were only three shuttles still on the display, one of the big transport shuttles was still in the bay, his personal cutter was still docked and a marine combat shuttle was still moored near the Marines compartment. As that was one of the areas marked black on this updated display he assumed that the fact it was still there meant some of the Marines hadn’t made it out. It was clearly the closest shuttle to his current position as he pointed at it for Aldershot’s benefit then dismissed the display and heaved the crewman up into a fireman’s carry. Fortunately the genetic mods that gave him a lifespan in the hundreds of years also meant that at fifty nine his body was still roughly in what on old earth would have been called his twenties.

  Another salvo arrived and this time the ship physically shook. "Damn!" He thought to himself, "We are losing structural integrity." They exited the compartment and Aldershot closed the hatch behind them out of habit. The Imperial weapons might be a thousand years old and terribly weak by modern standards but without shields it would not take them very long to reduce his beautiful ship to a floating mass of particles.

  They reached the Marines compartment without trouble but immediately realised they would not be able get through there easily as the entire area was buckled while the big entrance door was warped and stubbornly refused to move. With the ship falling apart under the steady barrage there was no time to find suitable tools so Arturo led them back and then up the ladder to the command deck, struggling with the unconscious crewman hanging over his shoulder. How he managed to carry the wounded crewman up the ladder he never quite worked out when looking back later.

  Once on the command deck he led them to where there was an access hatch leading to the outer hull used by the maintenance techs. The hatch opened with a groan unleashing a wave of heat and gas, showing this area was still airtight rather unfortunately but they were running out of alternatives. They scrambled through and he waved Aldershot over to where there was a maintenance airlock, she had to strain at to get open. He somehow manoeuvred the unconscious crewman inside without too much trouble much to his surprise and discovered that with the three of them squeezed in there it was pretty crowded.