GateWar Interludes
“Remind me again why exactly I agreed to this?”
Lieutenant Johnson snorted, “well, I think you mentioned something about getting fed up of being picked on and wanting a little pay-back” he told his Captain calmly, not bothering to hide the smile on his face or his dancing, laughing eyes.
“Right,” Hitchin's shook his head, “I must have been mad”
“A nice, useful kind of mad though boss” Johnson replied, “though, I would suggest keeping away from the base headshrink for a while”
The Captain snorted, his eyes resting on the form of his Command, the Liberty through the hefty, reinforced windows of Ravenbrights observation lounge, “she'll think I'm mad? What about the rest of you? You're the ones who, when given an opportunity to back out didn't. You're a bunch of mad men; this is an increased risk mission, not the normal fare for the Merchant Marine”
“You may have a point,” Johnson conceded, “on the other hand, I have one too. It's called malice and vengeance. That last intercept cost us Mary, she was sweet, she was pure and the bastards took her away”
“She was a bloody dog,”
“Your point being boss?” Johnson smirked, “who was it again who was told off by the base vet for having too many treats shipped in?”
“Aw, can it L.T”
Johnson chuckled, his head nodding slightly as the last of the battered looking cargo pods finally and visibly clicked into place along the long main spar of the Merchant class Fleet Auxiliaries hull.
“Payback,” he whispered once, making Hitchin's nod once, sharply.
“Payback,” the tall, Teutonic looking blond whispered, his voice calm, deadly.
“Little slow today, don't ‘cha think boss?”
Hitchin's shook his head as the loud, brash cockney voice of the ships engineer sounded into the quiet of the bridge, “normally I would hate you for tempting Murphy like that but today… its too bloody quiet. They've normally hit us by now, so where are the bastards?”
“Perhaps they heard about the new shark swimming in these waters?”
“Gods,” Hitchin's frowned, “I hope not. I want to give them a bloody hiding, not have them wary and waiting”
“I do so hate to interrupt such an entertaining conversation,” came the interruption from the helm, “but I do believe we finally have company”
Hitchin's stepped quickly across, glancing just once at the sensor display embedded into the helm console before nodding, and turning around, walking to his position at the tactical console. Unlike a full warship, there wasn't a separate command seat for the Captain, here the Captain was expected to work hard too, not just give orders and fill-out paperwork.
He glanced across the displays just once, checking for obvious error messages or problems on the hastily augmented controls, his hand reaching down instinctively, his eyes not straying from his check of the tactical systems even as his hands lifted the clear plastic cover of the alert siren and pressed once hard on the thick red plastic button.
The ships lights flashed, red blinkers lighting up all over the ship and a piercing hoot filled the air, just twice.
Behind him, he heard the loud cursing of the engineering chief as he realized he was going to have to ride the long conveyor the length of the cargo pods to get to his post.
“Should have stayed in the engineering section,” Hitchin's shouted as he heard the loud stamping of Mister Bevis racing towards the rear of the section.
“I have an I.D on our raider friends,” Weiss-Houseman commented from the helm, “one Ha'tak, an unknown and a cylon basestar”
Hitchin's frowned, “unusual combination, want to bet its Anubis who has been staging these raids?”
“A gentleman does not indulge in such a vulgar pastime as betting unless there is a horse involved,” Weiss replied, “luckily, we do appear to be about to send one to the knackers yard, unfortunately I do believe you have presented me with a suckers bet. The computer just presented its own I.Ds, one Ha'tak, Anubis version, one upgraded Cylon Basestar and a Drakh Cruiser”
“That's a lot of firepower,” Johnson said as he swung, still dressing, onto the bridge, “is the mission still viable?”
Hitchin's frowned, glancing across his own tactical displays and sensor repeaters, then nodded, “we are go”
“Good,” Johnson nodded, dropping swiftly in the bridges third and final major control console, the ships systems and damage control consol, “Weiss, I know I may be stating the obvious… but remember, the computer is in control, we are all asleep”
“Indeed Sir,” Weiss chuckled, “I shall endeavour to appear appropriately mechanical and preset in my initial evasive manoeuvres”
“They're closing,” Hitchin's noted, “closing on threshold, computer would generate an auto-alert in one-minute thirty”
“Mechanical manoeuvring at one minute thirty then sir, then panicked idiot at two minutes fourty-five seconds” Weiss noted.
“Agreed,” Hitchin's grinned, devilishly.
“My Lord, we have confirmed the identity of the Tau'ri cargo ship,” the Jaffa said quietly, careful not to anger his often vengeful master, “it is the Liberty ”
“Didn't your father report that destroyed on the last patrol he commanded in this area?” the goa'uld replied silkily, dangerously.
The Jaffa gulped, “I believe so, he must have been in error my lord”
“Pity for him,” was the reply, “do be sure not to repeat your fathers mistakes or I may have to consider your entire line traitorous”
The Jaffa froze slightly, his eyes filling just for a moment, with an image of his two daughters, “I understand sir”
He did too, if he succeeded his father was lost, if he failed, he and his entire family would be wiped out. So be it.
“My Lord, they have not yet reacted to our presence, its probable they are asleep”
The Goa'uld shot him a contemptuous glance, “the Tau'ri always have at least one officer on the bridge”
“On warships yes sir, this is a cargo ship, using crews rejected by their military” the Jaffa continued, “if I am right, then there initial manoeuvres will be mechanical, pre-programmed into their computers. I have that pattern memorised My Lord”
“Then go to the bridge,” the Goa'uld said slowly, as if speaking to a simpleton, “and be ready to demonstrate your knowledge”
“Yes My Lord”
“I do believe this fellow has the standard-computer evasive pattern memorised,” Weiss commented, “I suppose I must use that against him”
Hitchin's snorted, enjoying the humour behind the dry words of the helm officer, “we'll have to remember to warn control so that they can be updated”
“Indeed,” Weiss noted, “taking panicked control now sir, all things being equal I hope to bring the Cylon ship into range first, before they decide we might be a threat and launch their fighters”
“Noted,” Hitchin's replied, his hands racing across the controls as he informed the computers of the most-probable first target.
“Ten seconds to contact sir,” Weiss noted, his hands and eyes not once leaving his controls.
“Unmasking batteries,” Hitchin's voice informed the helm officer, whilst normally he was senior officer, under combat conditions he had long ago decided that Command should become the Helm Officers.
If the Goa'uld patrol had put any fighters in the air, they might have noticed the sides of the cargo pods vanishing, rolling like a garage door out of the way, and out of sight.
They might have been even more interested in the shapes the swiftly vanishing doors revealed.
“I have a shooting solution,” Hitchin's noted, his voice screaming satisfaction, “ready to fire at helm command”
“Very Well Sir,” Weiss noted, his expression not changing one iota from that of calm deadly assurance as the freighter began shaking under heavy fire from the Goa'uld vessels, “ready starboard batteries… three… two… one…”
Its shields glowing, almost opaque under the force of the barrage hitting it, the Liberty rolled, simultaneously making a sharp 90 degree turn directly up as it turned, presenting the long, large target of its starboard side to the Cylon Basestar.
Hoping to capitalise on the apparent mistake, the basestar salvoe'd off thirty missiles, all sent racing towards the glowing form of the Liberty.
The Liberty responded in kind, fourty missiles flashing into space from the vessels cargo pods, the modified sidewinder missiles quickly racing towards the astonished, agog and slow to respond basestar before slewing around to present the Ha'tak with its port, a further thirty missiles racing out of the port side of the cargo pods even as the Liberty was forced by renewed incoming fire to take evasive action.
The ships CIWS batteries, an array of the type 17 pulse lasers sprang into life, spitting coherent death towards the oncoming cylon missiles even as the Cargo Vessels lone, older model Gauss Rifle engaged the Drakh Cruiser, cratering the unshielded but heavily armoured hull.
The Cylon basestar started to launch fighters, desperate to reinforce its defences, but only seven launched before the Goa'uld designed shield refitted into the ship failed under the barrage, allowing the bulk of the incoming missiles to directly impact upon the hull, three even managing to find the large opening to the mammoth vessels fighter repair bay, detonating inside the ships hull.
The basestar died, vanishing in an expanding globe of superheated metals and gases which expanded to engulf and shred the seven frantically racing fighters, then was gone, no shard larger then a printer remaining.
The Ha'tak attempted to race away from the missiles, hoping to keep its distance long enough for the missiles to run out of fuel even as it turned its main weapons and a new array of anti-fighter batteries against the oncoming swarm.
The weapons killed ten of the missiles, but the ship hadn't reacted fast enough to escape and sixteen missiles impacted, and then killed the shields leaving four to hit the hull itself. One failed to detonate; the remaining three blew large chunks out of the hull, exposing in an instant 70% of the vessel to vacuum.
Listing, bleeding air and shuddering, the Ha'tak dropped out of the fight, its shields dead, its weapons inactive.
The Drakh cruiser returned fire, its main weapon reaching out for a merchant ship that knew better then to let the mighty Quantum Discharge Canon hit its shields.
The vessels wound around each other, almost dog fighting, each desperate not just to get a clear shot, but to ensure the enemy didn't. Neither blinked, but it quickly became clear that the Cruiser was reacting faster, turning just a little harder and that, all things being equal; the Liberty would not be long for this world.
All things weren't equal however, and whilst the Liberty's primary advantage, surprise, was gone, Hitchin's was more then willing to keep dictating the battle.
The Liberty broke off the winding match, racing away from the Drakh cruiser. The vessel, somewhat warily, chased after the Fleet Auxiliary even as it dived behind the shattered wreck of the Ha'tak. The Cruisers Captain didn't hesitate to give the order to follow, assuming that the cargo ship would not have enough time to make any kind of major manoeuvre behind the hull before pooping out back into the sight of his sensors of the other side.
He was wrong.
The Liberty , as with the entire Merchant class was designed with the idea of moving bulk cargos in mind. Its engines were designed for sheer grunt, the ability to move occasionally massively heavy loads with the minimal of fuss, its thrusters and manoeuvring systems were likewise over designed and shorn of just over half its load-out of Naquadah tipped missiles, the Liberty was running extremely light.
The ship came to a crash-stop behind the Ha'tak, the inertial dampeners screaming in sheer electronic agony as the vessel came to a crushing stop. The DC board on the vessels bridge lit the bridge a lurid red as systems failed under the strain even as the vessels manoeuvring thrusters fired once more, pushing the vessel above the expected plane of the Drakh Cruisers course, and turning the portside batteries to face the anticipated arrival of the enemy warship.
The Drakh cruiser flashed arrogantly behind the shattered Ha'tak and died as the Liberty blew her wad, emptying the portside Q Batteries of their missiles even as the vessels permanent weapons, the Gauss rifle and the arrays of pulse reached out with lethal intent towards the cruiser.
“Bloody hell Cap,” the voice interrupted the stunned quiet of the bridge, blaring over the intercom, awakening the three from their pained stupor, “what the hell did you do? You bent the blasted ship, I got an integrity light on the main spar and at least one of the pods has crumpled”
Hitchin's laughed, it was the relieved shocked laugh of one who is still alive and how no real idea of how he managed it, “We just killed three enemy capital ships Master Bevis”
“Shitting hell,” came the eventual response.
“Well,” Johnson commented, glancing up from the furiously flashing lights of his console, “we aren't getting home under our own steam, we'll need a tow”
“That's unfortunate,” Weiss noted, “but at least we finished the job first, and what a jolly good show it was”
“A Jolly Good Show?” Bevis replied incredulously over the intercom, “you bent the ship. The main spar reads as five degrees off the true”
Hitchin's blinked, “your kidding”
“Nope,” Bevis replied, “you sir just put us into the body and fender for a while”
“If we're bound for the ‘body and fender' as you call it chap,” Weiss noted, “perhaps you would care to give us an opinion on where the chap about to appear in your starboard window is headed?”
There was no reply from the aft engineering section.