As A Consequence

As a Consequence

A Gale Harkness Novel

As a Consequence

A Gale Harness Novel

By

Robert A.V. Jacobs

Published by

Robert A.V. Jacobs on Smashwords

As a Consequence

Copyright 2012 Robert A.V. Jacobs

Cover Background Image: www.freeimages.co.uk

Smashwords edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is written in ‘English’ English, so there may be some differences in spelling to other international forms of English.

This book is a work of fiction and all characters are fictitious or are portrayed fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental

This book Contains Adult Material

Also by Robert A.V. Jacobs

Children’s fiction, ten years upwards:

Daisy Weal

Daisy Weal and the Monster

Daisy Weal and Sir Charles

Daisy Weal and the Last Crenian

Dauntless

The Adventures of Daisy Weal (Omnibus edition, containing four of the books in the series)

Grandpa’s Shed

Short Stories in the Daisy Weal series

(Available as ebooks):

Daisy Weal and the Grelflin

Daisy Weal and the Weenies

Daisy Weal and the Millions

Daisy Weal and the Face

Daisy Weal and the Secret

Daisy Weal and the Disaster

Daisy Weal and the Ghost

Daisy Weal and the Figment

Young Adult and Adult Fiction:

The Lost Starship

The Star Queen

Speaker (A collection of 31 short stories)

The Yellow Dragon

The Diamond Sword of Tor

Cardoney (Omnibus edition containing both The Yellow Dragon and The Diamond Sword of Tor)

Adult Science Fiction:

Taldi’na

Adult Detective/Murder Mysteries:

Dexxman

The Disappearance of Natalie Firth

Time to Die

A Promise to Doreen

Almost Enough

Non-fiction:

Sudoku, Food for the Mind

Table of Contents

Foreword

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Why not Write a Review

Character List

Taldi’na

About the Author

Foreword

Captain Trent, from the Kingdom of Mastreel, brought his ship out of hyperspace with consummate ease. It was the first time that any ships from the Kingdom, had travelled as far as the Antares system, and he was eager to be the first.

At almost the same instant, Captain Riggs, from the Republic of Earth, re-entered normal space no more than fifty kilometres away, and was looking forward to being the first human from Earth to have ventured this far.

As both ships emerged, their proximity alarms sounded, and both Captains looked, in horror at the emblems on the ships, emblems that had not been seen in fifty years.

Captain Trent’s first and last thought, was that here was one of those damned republicans. Scum of the universe, only fit for destruction.

At the same time, Captain Riggs looked with disgust at the Royalist pigs that had emerged.

Both spat out the order simultaneously,

Fire

But the ships were too close, and when the dust of the encounter had settled, all that remained of the two ships, was a silently expanding cloud of radioactive debris.

Thus fifty years of war were born.

Chapter One

The destroyer HMS Egrenta, flashed through hyperspace at two to the tenth times the speed of light. With just over five minutes to go before they reached their point of emergence into normal space, Captain George Caswell was feeling a little nervous. He had jumped into this area of space many times in his normal patrol sequence, and had never felt nervous before, but on this occasion, for some reason, he did. He let his gaze drift over the rest of the bridge crew, and could see that they too were feeling the tension building.

Lieutenant Commander Timothy Charles was gazing intently at the blank expanse of the holographic tactical display as he paced up and down in front of it, waiting expectantly for it to burst into life as they emerged. Lieutenant Valerie Danton was tapping the perfectly manicured red finger nails of both hands on her desk, as she watched for anything unusual to appear at her com station. Lieutenant ‘homer’ Basil Aspel, so called because of his ability to know the way home from wherever he was, was seated at the Navigation Station idly pulling his hair. His job was done. He had got them here. Now it was up to them to let him get them back home again, or on to whatever new and god forsaken, chunk of emptiness that the Captain should desire them to go.

The only calm seemed to radiate from his XO, Commander Mitford Rayne. I have never seen him otherwise, Caswell reflected wryly, the man either has no fear whatsoever, or he has mastered the art of appearing as though he has none. Knowing the line of work they were in, Caswell felt that it was probably the latter. He looked once more at the Nav Station and Basil Aspel, and smiled as he remembered how much Basil hated space.

Basil hated it with a passion. So much so, that he almost became a nervous wreck every time he boarded a ship. Navigation was the only thing that he was any good at and if not the space fleet, then what else could there be for him? But his world and his civilisation were at war, and anyone who had any sort of ability was called upon to do his, or her, part. He could not stand back and do nothing, so his desire to be useful overcame his fear, and he joined the fleet.

The Captain brought himself back to reality, realising that decision time was upon him. What should he do? Pretend as though all was well out here in space, or be a little cautious just in case. There was no reason why the Enemy should be here in this region. But what if they were and he was unprepared?

Stop daydreaming, he thought, you know what you are going to do, so get on with it.

Pass control of three probes to the AI at the five second mark, Mr Rayne.

Aye sir, acknowledged the XO.

The timing of the probes needed to be perfect, so that their analysis of the area of real space that they were emerging into could be burst transmitted to the following ship. The life of the probes was severely limited depending upon their distance from any possible enemy, and could possibly only be measured in milliseconds. So they had to analyse and get their findings to the Egrenta at her actual second of emergence, leaving only the briefest of moments for the tactical computers to act. It was elegantly simple for the A.I. bio processors that were controlling the whole thing, but it would have been completely impossible for the humans to do it without them.

Bring fifteen missiles to launch readiness Mr Charles. Pass control to the tactical AI, and link to the probes.

Aye Sir, missiles to launch readiness, and AI standing by,

The destroyer H.M.S Egrenta emerged from hyperspace less than a second after the probes, her two hundred and fifty thousand tons flashing into existence, still travelling at almost light speed. The probes were only a hundred thousand kilometres behind them in normal space, and for the briefest of moments they had gone undetected, so they had just enough time to do what they were designed to do and report back. As a consequence the fifteen smart missiles that the Egrenta launched as she broke back into normal space had all the targeting information that they needed.

His unease had been justified, and his worst fears realised as the probes reported an enemy ship near their point of emergence. The time scales employed by the AI were such that the only warning the humans on board had was the automatic launching of the missiles.

The enemy was a mere five million kilometres away, and the Egrenta was decelerating at fifteen G at a ninety degree angle to them. The missiles, accelerating at seven hundred and fifty G, would only take sixteen seconds or so to cross the distance, having started at zero intercept velocity relative to the enemy. Captain George Caswell was a little further away than he would have liked, but given his decisions so far there was just no time for him to act differently. He did have time to reflect on the fact that the enemy ship was twice the size of the Egrenta, and at that distance it would take time for any missiles from it to reach them. On the other hand, their speed was insufficient for an immediate transition back to hyperspace, so they were committed whether they wanted to be or not.

His missiles had five hundred megaton proximity warheads, and were programmed to detonate within fifty kilometres of the target. Their smart bio processors started to spread the pattern, each moving away from the others, while still keeping a lock on their destination. Travelling at close to the speed of light, they would not arm until they were within one hundred thousand kilometres, when there was less than half a second to go.

It seems you were right to be cautious sir, remarked Commander Rayne.

Caswell said nothing. Their fate would be decided in the next few minutes. He was not quite sure that they could survive this, given the class of enemy ship that the tactical displays said they were facing. He didn’t need Charles to tell him, as the glaring crimson spot of a ship larger than the Egrenta was clear enough for everyone to see. He had hoped that it would be green, signifying a ship at or smaller than their own tonnage, but unfortunately that was not the case.

The tactical AI identified the enemy ship as a cruiser class, and further established it to be the RES Estentor which was known to be under the command of a Commodore Rush. It was much more heavily armed than the Egrenta, and its defensive capability was greater. But its size made it a bigger target, and that together with the element of surprise, should have given Caswell a fighting chance.

Unfortunately for them Commodore Rush was no slouch. He had already initiated counter measures, and hundreds of defensive missiles had been deployed. They came away from the Estentor in a cloud of fire, and began to accelerate towards the incoming threat. It seemed certain that they would intercept within the one hundred thousand kilometre range, at which point the attacking missiles would have started to arm.

Singly they were not large enough to trigger proximity fuses and would need a direct hit to be effective, but in groups, within fifty Kilometres, they would be enough. Their bio processors began to seek out their targets, and adjust vectors for maximum effect. Within half a second flashes of nuclear fire began to appear, which from the Egrenta, looked like nothing more than brilliant pinpricks of light.

They have launched missiles sir, came from Tactical,

Thirty incoming, at seven fifty G. Point defences are at launch readiness. Launching in, five... four... three... two... one... missiles away. All beam weapons are set for automatic fire.

Thank you Mr Charles. Bring fifteen missiles to launch readiness.

Aye sir, fifteen missiles to launch readiness, Charles acknowledged.

Captain Caswell was thoughtful for a second and then turned towards his XO,

I think he’s a bit too big for us to hang around, Mr Rayne. Go to full emergency thrust and transit as soon as we are able to.

He waited anxiously as the ship’s speed started to increase. It was not possible to make the transition to hyperspace until they were approaching light speed, and all of the displays were showing that they were just not fast enough. The incoming missiles were overhauling them, at a slower rate it was true, but they were still getting closer.

Tactical reported that two of his own missiles had found their mark, exploding within the defensive envelope, and causing severe damage. The Estentor was turning away, and her still operating drive was pushing her on at an ever increasing speed. He estimated that it would take her about two minutes to reach transit velocity.

Disengage Mr Charles, cancel the second wave.

Aye sir, standing down missiles and disengaging, acknowledged Lieutenant Commander Charles.

Most of the incoming missiles were intercepted by the defence missile screen at a safe distance from the ship, and some of the others by the particle beam and laser cannon. Explosions began to rock the ship as targets were found and destroyed, but it was not enough and inevitably, one smart bio processor found a way through the torrent of destruction that obscured its view of the target. Then it was within fifty kilometres, and its proximity sensors sent a tiny signal to the warhead, and five hundred megatons of destructive power were unleashed in a blinding fury of light. The sound of the tremendous explosion was not heard in the vacuum of space until the wave front impacted on the ship, and then it was if it had been struck by the hammer of God.

Brace for impact, was echoing through the ship, as the five hundred megaton warhead exploded less than fifty Kilometres away. It was futile of course, because if the crew were not already braced, then there was no time to do it now. The ship’s direction was changed so suddenly by the shockwave, that the inertia damping system had no chance at all. Unsecured crew were flung into whatever hard part of the ship that was in their line of travel, causing some fatalities, but many, many, more broken bones.

******

Midshipman Gale Harkness had taken her anti-radiation shots and scrambled into her protective body suit, which gave added protection to vital areas of the body, when the engagement first started. A note had to be put into her record that ‘Gale’ was indeed the correct spelling, after she put in a formal complaint about the number of times it was ‘corrected’ to Gail. Her mother had intended that she be called Gail, but unfortunately her father was not the best of spellers, and had entered the incorrect name when he registered her birth. Even as a young girl she had liked it. It was different and she liked different, particularly since it implied that she was strong, dangerous, and moved swiftly.

A midshipman in the Space Fleet of today bore little relationship to the historic use of the word, except that it closely resembled the use in the USA prior to 1912 when it was equivalent to Warrant Officer.*

*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/MIDN

She was just being roasted by the Lieutenant for showing up the ratings by arriving at her station first. She was tall and stunning, slim with, what some would describe as, a perfect figure, and her beauty still managed to shine through the permanent look of stern resolve that her face always held. This contrasted vividly with the lieutenant who was petite, but chubby, and was now looking up at her.

It’s good to be good, but not good to rub it in, it upsets people, she was told.

Yes ma’am, but I heard general quarters, and when that happens I am supposed to be here, so I was, she said, indicating the aft sensor station, In my opinion, if that upsets people, then they need to look to their own actions, and not criticise mine.

Don’t get lippy Harkness, you are not an officer yet, said the Lieutenant, and then disappeared out of the massive hole that had suddenly appeared in the side of the ship.

Reflexively, Gale snapped her hand through a loop that was fixed to the bulkhead for emergencies such as these as she was lifted from her feet and slammed sideways. In truth, it was not her that had been moved sideways but the ship, so it was the wall coming towards her, rather than her moving into the wall. She braced the muscles in her arm as she was flipped up, brought to a sudden stop by the restraint, and dropped to the floor. It almost dislocated her shoulder and hurt like hell, but at least she had avoided serious injury.

It was fortunate that the extent of the damage had stopped just short of where she was standing, and as soon as she had seen the Lieutenant disappear she had