Hegemony Resurgent Exodus: Chapter 2

To an outside observer, there was no difference in Haven’s movements. Not for hours. But even a tiny thrust added up.

“Dad, you’re screwing our calculations up,” June said, her face on the com screen.

“I think a nuke would screw them up more,” Jackson told his daughter. “Do the best you can…”

“Sure, I will. I’ll just keep multi-thousand factor equations updated in my head…” Jackson cut her grumbles off and looked around the command center. On one of the big monitors the last dropship was docking.

Thats it. Over three hundred and fifty thousand, all depending on us. “Anything from system control?”

“No sir, a couple of snarky questions about if we intend to slowboat our way to freedom…”

Jackson nodded. Everyone knew you couldn’t stick a KF drive on something this big, so everyone was assuming he was intending on slowboating it—or that the panicked old man had demanded the impossible and his engineers had put in a non-functional replica to shut him up.

Jackson had paid for that particular rumor to get spread around.

Right now the most “credible” rumor was that he and a band of other cowards were planning on a very long cometary orbit, one that would protect them until they could return to face those who had stayed and fought.

Let’s put that in Plan B if the drive doesn’t work. 

*****

“I can fly!”

“I know,” Christa said as the Runt bounced off the floor.

“I can drift!”

“I know!”

“And I can—“

“So help me God, if you keep doing this, I’ll ask Marjorie to help me tie you down!”  

The hatch was open (she’d make the mistake of calling it a door in Timmis’ earshot), and she could see that Marjorie’s little sister was quietly watching something on her noteputer. Of course. There would only be one Runt in the universe.

She keyed the display in the bedroom to the ship information channel.

Still showing a line, the ships projected orbit, and not much else. But everyone was required to remain in quarters, with food brought to them, until the boost phase was over.

Okay, at least it wasn’t as bad as hiding from the Amaris goons. And they had shows and monitors—and oh! Christa had never seen the end of “My Neighbor from Luthien!” Maybe it was here. She could see if the dad had finished modifying their agromech into a Samurai to win the local gardening competition… And watch his son. For the story. Not the actor, of course.

“Christa! Not that!” The Runt said as she called it up. “You keep being weird when you watch it.”

“I can still throw you off the ship!”

*****

“Sir?  Multiple jump flashes, L1 Pirate point.”

Jackson nodded. Thirty minutes ago.  They might have FTL HPG systems, but FTL sensors remained a dream, and he wasn’t about to attract attention by trying to get an HPG.

“Keep the ship on course. Is the jump core charged?”

“Yes sir, but your daughter…”

“I know they’re not ready. We don’t get that luxury at all times. Start pre-jump calculation.”

“Nobody’s coming for us.”

“Not yet.”

Six hours later, it happened. They’d seen the flashes of nuclear detonations at the shipyard.

That’s the end of Inglesmond. Without ships, the attempt to protect the world,and what was left of the Hegemony, was stillborn.

“Flash, single ship—looks like a Scout class.”  The captain said.  Fifteen minutes later the bad news came. “One drive plume, config reads like a Mule class.”

A missile truck.  Everyone was using cargo droppers for that. Jackson frowned. “Can you get a read on its course? Are they trying for a rendezvous?”

“I don’t think so, sir. They’re boosting full speed, that doesn’t leave them much ability to avoid anything we might throw at them if they were trying for a zero-zero rendezvous. They’re jinking to stay out of easy interception but they can hit us.”

“Missiles?”

“Yes. Our combined vectors—they wouldn’t have to hit the thrusters until they were practically on top of us, even if we did have point defense weapons… We wouldn’t see them in time.” The captain shrugged. “Doesn’t work on warships, since they’d be jinking, but this pig doesn’t have enough thrust to change our vector, at least not in a way that would help.”

“When can they hit us?”

“An hour—if they don’t kick off the missile thrust. Sooner if they do, but we’d see it, and the missiles have limited fuel. Call it forty-five to an hour.”

“Thanks. Get me June.”

****

June looked like a mad scientist preparing to consult with some ancient god, a half dozen screens around her.

“We need time, Dad.”

“You have forty-five minutes.”

June blinked. “Forty-five minutes!”

“A drac dropship is burning in. They’re not intending on rendezvousing, which means they’re going to be shooting at us with nukes. If we don’t go in forty-five, we’re not going. At all. We’re charg—“

“Do you—Dad, we’re talking 1400 light years! That’s 46 times a normal jump and the complexity of calculations isn’t just additive!”

“We don’t have time. We need a jump in forty-five minutes.” Jackson pulled out a dice and spun it. “Destination 12.” Can’t get much more random than that.

“Fine.”

“Captain, send a message to the dropship. We surrender and will stand by for boarding. If they decide to take us up…” We’ll have a few more hours.

But there were no response.

Jackson didn’t pace, just watched as the crew started pre-jump orders. He wanted to scream, because an estimation was just that and every minute passed with him expecting to hear the scream of proximity alarms.

They jumped in to hit the dockyards, but I bet they had another jumpship, probably that scout that jumped in earlier to get a look at the system. It saw us, got a vector and once the main attack began, jumped to close the door.

*****

ATTENTION, ATTENTION. STAND BY FOR JUMP. ALL CREW AND PASSENGERS ASSUME JUMP POSITIONS.

“C’mon, Runt!” Christa said, “Strap in.”

“But there’s no gravity!”

“It doesn’t matter!” She snarled, “Everyone has to be strapped in.”

They should be checking on us. Why aren’t they checking on us? Christa had a bad feeling—the only reason you wouldn’t check on kids was if things were so bad that you couldn’t spare the people.” But  we’re in the middle of nowhere, what’s happening? She looked at the screen. All the channels from Inglesmond had gone off due to technical issues, but nobody was saying what they were.

“Get your barf bag ready,” Christa said. “I don’t want to clean up after you.”

Then she got into her own seat and strapped in. Just as she finished, there were sudden alarms and the lights turned red.

ALL HANDS, ALL HANDS, JUMP IN 5, 4—

*****

The alerts blared through the command center. “Incoming missiles, multiple missiles. Warbook reads them as Killer Whales, probably carrying peacemakers.  Estimated time to impact, five minutes.”

“June, we’re out of time.”

“Initiating jump.”

Jackson strapped himself in. He’d never suffered from TDS, but nobody had ever done a jump like this. For he knew, Haven might arrive—with a dead crew.

3, 2, 1—INITIATE!

The universe dissolved. Jackson stood over Inglesmond, watching endless clouds of smoke rise from murdered cities. Not shipyards, or factories, but every city he remembered, as the clouds gathered around him…

A crowd of civilians huddled, as Draconis Combine troops approached them. One officer, evidently someone very highly ranked, raised his hand, and their guns went down… And the men drew Katanas and advanced on the huddled, weeping group…

Jackson found himself standing in a chamber, the Court of the Star League and the throne… There was a skeleton in it, wearing a uniform embellished with badges of honor and patents of nobility, and maggots oozed out of its eyes. It was Amaris, no, it was Cameron… Jackson couldn’t quite tell who it was… Around it there was fighting. Men and machines struggling, heedless of the people they trampled as they fought around that Throne, fought to claim its rotted glory, none of them noticing the smile on the corpse, as if even in death it relished the hold it had over all those killing and dying to possess it—

EMERGENCE!

Jackson came back to reality—only to noisily puke all over himself.

He wasn’t the only one.