The Star Alliance Chronicles: Crisis on the Rim

By Kevin McDonald Andrews

In a remote sector of space, there are dangerous enemies waiting to strike at the heart of the Galactic Coalition of Worlds. They can attack without warning and show no mercy, and they will destroy all who dare oppose them. Some possess technologies so advanced, they can suddenly appear anywhere in the galaxy and overrun defenseless planets with ruthless efficiency; others scheme to harness the natural resources of other star systems and enslave their populations.

Despite the Coalition’s best efforts, the political stability of the Quadrant continues to deteriorate, with enemies of the alliance challenging its sovereignty, launching raids of territorial conquest, and engaging in costly, punitive wars. As peace slowly takes hold of the Quadrant, a new, even more powerful menace is discovered by the crew of Base Station DD-109, a sprawling outpost located near the galaxy’s rim, on the very edge of Coalition space. This station is not a typical Coalition Command base. It is not blistering with the latest armaments nor does it boast an array of powerful starships.
DD-109 is a Coalition salvage yard, its only function to decommission and dispose of wrecked, outdated ships and their technologies. Dark, dirty, and literally weeks away from the nearest base station, it is also a place where some Coalition fleet commanders send their most difficult and troublesome personnel cases. It is often said to be a place where both ships and careers go to die.
Nestled between the Borias and the Lehar Star Systems, and with no defensive capabilities, the base has become a tempting target for those who have been studying that sector as they prepare to strike at the Coalition.
Unknown to its personnel, Base Station DD-109 will soon hold the key to the future of humanity and the entire Quadrant. With no hope of assistance, armed with only antiquated and makeshift weapons, an untested crew of officers, engineers, and maintenance workers from DD-109 will confront a lethal invasion force from the rim of the galaxy. Their mission: hold the Lehar-Borias System and deny the enemy access to the base station. If they succeed, they will save the lives of billions of Coalition citizens; if they fail, their enemies will unleash a ruthless intergalactic war of extinction—an apocalypse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kevin McDonald Andrews
• Release date: Nov 7, 2012
• ISBN: 9780615684642

Kevin McDonald Andrews

Kevin McDonald Andrews is an Information Technologies professional and life-long Science Fiction fan. The New York Native is the author of both The STAR ALLIANCE CHRONICLES: Crisis on the Rim, and the soon to be released STAR ALLIANCE CHRONICLES: Renegade Force. When not writing Kevin enjoys traveling and listening to his favorite musical acts such as Kansas, Boston and Coldplay.

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THE STAR ALLIANCE CHRONICLES

Crisis on the Rim

By K. McDonald Andrews

Copyright © 2012 K. McDonald Andrews

ISBN: 978-0-615-68464-2 (e-book)

Published By:

Kevin McDonald Andrews at Smashwords

Red Galaxy cover image courtesy of NASA and STScI

Edited by Eagle Eye Editorial Services of New York

New York, NY 10028-5905

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

This ebook is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and incidents are either product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Together, my friends…together, we will hold this line against whatever may come—for our homes, our families, and for one another.

–Lieutenant Stephen Anthony St. Claire

For Mom and Dad

Thank you for nurturing all of my dreams

THE STAR ALLIANCE CHRONICLES

Crisis on the Rim

Table of Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1 - New Wounds

Chapter 2 - Confessions

Chapter 3 - Destiny’s Choices

Chapter 4 - Hello Again

Chapter 5 - The Bitter Harvest

Chapter 6 - New Heading

Chapter 7 - Why We Are Here

Chapter 8 - Shadows of Passion

Chapter 9 - St. Claire and the covenant of I’Kim

Chapter 10 - Whispers in the Stars

Chapter 11 - By Whatever Means

Chapter 12 - Terror from the Rim

Chapter 13 - Together My Friends

Chapter 14 - The Renegades’ Pride

Chapter 15 - Destiny

Chapter 16 - The Battle on the Rim

Chapter 17 - Pride and Sacrifice

Chapter 18 - Reckoning

Epilogue

Introduction

In a remote sector of space, there are dangerous enemies waiting to strike at the heart of the Galactic Coalition of Worlds. They can attack without warning and show no mercy, and they will destroy all who dare oppose them. Some possess technologies so advanced, they can suddenly appear anywhere in the galaxy and overrun defenseless planets with ruthless efficiency; others scheme to harness the natural resources of other star systems and enslave their populations.

Despite the Coalition’s best efforts, the political stability of the Quadrant continues to deteriorate, with enemies of the alliance challenging its sovereignty, launching raids of territorial conquest, and engaging in costly, punitive wars. As peace slowly takes hold of the Quadrant, a new, even more powerful menace is discovered by the crew of Base Station DD-109, a sprawling outpost located near the galaxy’s rim, on the very edge of Coalition space. This station is not a typical Coalition Command base. It is not blistering with the latest armaments nor does it boast an array of powerful starships.

DD-109 is a Coalition salvage yard, its only function to decommission and dispose of wrecked, outdated ships and their technologies. Dark, dirty, and literally weeks away from the nearest base station, it is also a place where some Coalition fleet commanders send their most difficult and troublesome personnel cases. It is often said to be a place where both ships and careers go to die.

Nestled between the Borias and the Lehar Star Systems, and with no defensive capabilities, the base has become a tempting target for those who have been studying that sector as they prepare to strike at the Coalition.

Unknown to its personnel, Base Station DD-109 will soon hold the key to the future of humanity and the entire Quadrant. With no hope of assistance, armed with only antiquated and makeshift weapons, an untested crew of officers, engineers, and maintenance workers from DD-109 will confront a lethal invasion force from the rim of the galaxy. Their mission: hold the Lehar-Borias System and deny the enemy access to the base station. If they succeed, they will save the lives of billions of Coalition citizens; if they fail, their enemies will unleash a ruthless intergalactic war of extinction—an apocalypse.

Chapter 1: New Wounds

Twilight on Nimbus Six is a special time of the day for Stephen St. Claire. Unlike Earth many light-years away, the Sun never sets on the northern hemisphere of this planet. After hours of nourishing the lush, green landscape of this vibrant world, it retreats and nestles just above the horizon, forming a thin band of ghostly orange light, which blankets the oceans, valleys, and mountain ranges. Just above the orange band, there are three layers of ever-deepening blue skies which gently transition as they extend upward into the star-filled blackness of space.

From the observation deck of the Admiral Chester T. King Memorial Space Port, Stephen St. Claire gazed across the horizon, moving ever closer to the guardrail to take full advantage of the mesmerizing view. The scene would be perfect, were it not for a storm rumbling in the distance and a few shuttlecraft darting across the evening sky. He followed the colorful skyline across the horizon, smiled, and pressed the back of his hand to the lips. She used to love this view, he whispered.

Stephen walked along the observation deck, his tall, handsome physique illuminated by the glaring lights within the station as he passed portal after portal. In his dress uniform adorned with a citation for bravery, he was the very definition of a young Coalition officer: confident, professional, and well-groomed.

Stephen returned to the edge of the observation deck and held on to the silver guardrail. Content and at peace for the first time in weeks, he closed his soulful brown eyes and absorbed the sounds of the night. The rumble of thunder disturbed him. He opened his eyes. On a distant mountain peak, he saw glowing orange and blue lights flickering like diamonds in the dim sunset. The brilliant light show was accompanied by a warm-scented breeze which rose from the valley, washed over the deck, and enveloped him. Memories filled with affection and triumph flowed through his mind as if aloft on the gentle gust of wind. All too soon, the brisk feeling faded out, leaving only emptiness and bitter humiliation. The smile disappeared from his face.

I should have been stronger, especially for Julie, Stephen thought to himself. It was the little things that he had most admired in his former fiancée: the softness of her hands, the sweetness of her laughter, the way his name seemed to dance in the air when she called to him. Memories were all that had remained of a shattered dream.

Stephen gasped and struggled to regain composure. His face stiffened and he felt weak as the turbulent emotions broke across the mind and tore into his heart. With arms folded across the guardrail, he glared vacantly into the vast sky. Losing Julie was bad enough, but what’s the deal with the Coalition’s space fleet? he asked himself. Why have they marooned me on my own planet?

He took a deep breath of the crisp evening air, exhaled sharply, and instinctively began adjusting his uniform. He checked his boots for the proper shine, removed imaginary threads and dust from the sleeves of his navy-blue jacket, and gently adjusted the gold citation badge pinned to his chest. The badge, presented by Fleet Admiral Forrest Pierce Kemp himself and a special source of pride for Lieutenant St. Claire, had been awarded him for his valiant leadership onboard the Coalition Starship Lexington. He moved the badge gently from side to side. A smile slowly swelled up his face, then gradually retreated. My moment of glory, Stephen whispered, staring at the badge. "And to think I nearly lost the Lexington…."

The Coalition Starship Lexington, commanded by Captain Alexander Pyatt, had been the last of the Andromeda-class starships. Known to her crew as Lady LEX, she had been upgraded at the Lima Four rework facility just prior to her deployment to the Antares sector. While at Lima Four, she had been outfitted with new deflector shield generators, supplied with upgraded Mark IX antimatter torpedoes, and received a new tactical officer: Lieutenant Stephen St. Claire.

Stephen recalled the first time he had seen the Lexington moored in a huge space dock orbiting Lima Four, a flurry of tiny support vehicles buzzing around her massive hull. Man, was she something! he smiled as the mind brought him back to that moment. He looked up and stared into the sky, just as he had done that day in the shuttle on his way to the Lexington.

The shuttle had left the space station at Lima Four and approached the orbital dry dock on the Lexington’s starboard side. From that view, Stephen could see the entire ship from bow to stern. As the tiny craft approached the Lady LEX, the pilot noticed that Stephen could not take his eyes off the grand ship. He smiled and said, Should I take you straight in, sir, or would you like an admiral’s inspection? Stephen remembers smiling back and saying, What do you think?

The pilot smiled, turned the shuttle sharply to the left, and slowly climbed toward the dry dock. With the craft now directly parallel to the ship, he steered slowly to the right, placing the shuttle just above the port side of the Lexington’s deltoid-shaped forward section. They slowed down to about half-speed and floated above the huge hull, maneuvered past it to the elongated secondary hull, and finally between the starboard and port nacelles. The vessel filled the entire view of the shuttle’s main screen.

That was incredible, Stephen said of that first day on his old ship.

A flash of lightning across the Nimbus Six sky interrupted Stephen’s nostalgic trip to the Lexington. He was mesmerized by the powerful show of natural energy in his vibrant home world. He looked skyward. Arches of lightning hundreds of miles long ruptured the night with bursts of bright light, while thunder shook the ground beneath the space port.

Still looking into the night, Stephen stepped back from the guardrail and took refuge near a support pylon on the observation desk. Four quick successions of thunder rocked the observation deck. He closed his eyes, slowly reached out for the support pylon, and grabbed it with the left hand as if holding for dear life. His eyes flew open. One more hit, and the Sencar would have finished us, for sure, he said intensely.

Stephen drifted back to the Lexington again, back to the past, reliving yet another event on board his old ship. It was Earth date February 24, 2378, and the Lexington was in the Antares sector on a routine patrol. He sat at the tactical station on the bridge of the Lady LEX, busy analyzing the heaps of data that poured in via the ship’s computers. Earlier that day, the senior officers, including Captain Pyatt and the first officer, had locked themselves in one of the ship’s conference rooms to discuss their strategy for operating in the Antares sector. You have the con, St. Claire, was the last thing the captain had said before he boarded the turbolift and left the bridge.

Stephen was not the most senior officer on the ship; he was a relative newcomer, but the captain had seen his potential and was grooming him for the Lexington’s third-in-command position. Stephen was aware of it and determined that his first time in the command chair would go especially smoothly. Look sharp on those sensors, Ensign Reese, Stephen ordered. Privateers are known to operate in this area. I don’t want one of their ships popping up out of nowhere.

Aye, sir, replied Ensign Reese. It’s not my first time doing this.

From his command chair, Stephen looked back at Ensign Janice Reese. He did not like the rather-resentful tone in her voice. The two officers had often disagreed publicly in the past, and her brazen attitude had the entire bridge crew glancing and whispering at one another.

Is there going to be a problem here, Ensign? Stephen said sternly.

No, sir, there’s no problem, replied Ensign Reese. You’re in command, she mocked.

Good. Use every sensor analysis trick you know, Ms. Reese. Remember: some of the Sencar raiders use stolen cloaking devices. Cloaked or not, I know you’ll find them, Stephen said, tactfully. Ensign Reese did not reply.

Stephen had every reason to be concerned about the Lexington’s safety. This sector was known to be infested with privately operated commerce raiders. Those vessels, manned by the faceless, black-hooded Sencar pirates operated outside the laws of all galactic treaties and would attempt to seize every commerce ship they encountered. Since the raiders had begun operating near Coalition space, hundreds of ships had been lost and thousands of Coalition citizens murdered. Fleet Command wanted that sector secured so that safe commercial trade could proceed across that space, even if that meant war with the Sencar.

Stephen sat on the captain’s chair and activated its tactical display and communications console. From there, he could see everything that the bridge crew saw at their work stations. He moved from screen to screen on the command monitor, sending messages and instructions to the bridge and engineering teams.

As he monitored the ship’s overall performance, Ensign Reese, having completed her adjustments to the ship’s sensors, began reinitializing the sensor’s array. Although young and somewhat inexperienced, Ensign Reese was one of the best sensor-analysis officers on the ship. Her capabilities, however, were sometimes overshadowed by a streak of stubbornness, which often irritated her fellow officers.

Ensign Reese, I see that you reinitialized the ship’s sensors. Why didn’t you report that? Stephen asked sharply.

Ensign Reese folded her arms and turned halfway to face Stephen. Sir, I added new analysis parameters into the array, hence the need for the initialization, she snapped.

Stephen exhaled, then grabbed the back of Reese’s chair and turned it so they could face each other. Initialization was not required, Ensign. In fact, it’s not even recommended, he growled. You could have simply added the new parameters and incorporated them into the current scans!

Ensign Reese’s face went blank and pale. She realized that she had, in fact, made a terrible mistake, and may have endangered the ship. Nevertheless, she remained firm and defiant. I don’t see the issue here, sir, she replied and slowly turned away from him.

Stephen was furious. He didn’t care about protocol, feelings, or Reese’s personal relationship with Commander Jim Madison, whom he thought he would replace as first officer someday. He repositioned himself to the left of Ensign Reese, who faced her console trying not to acknowledge him. He firmly tugged at the edge of his jacket, re-establishing its crisp, flawless lines. Look at me, he ordered Reese. Now, tell me how many ships are operating in this sector. Which are Coalition vessels and which are Sencar?

After what seemed to be an eternity of staring at the sensor’s blank monitor, Ensign Reese finally gave up and looked at him. I can’t, sir, she said meekly.

Of course you can’t, Ensign! Stephen scolded her. During the four-minute initialization sequence, the sensor array is off-line. We’re running blind in hostile space, he said and stormed off to the command chair.

Ensign Reese’s failure to report the changes in the Lexington’s sensors had left the ship dangerously exposed. Stephen realized this and quickly issued commands, which, he hoped, would prevent an enemy from acquiring a weapons’ lock on the ship. Helm, increase speed to star-drive factor five, turn fifteen degrees to port, and stand by, he ordered.

Aye, sir, increasing to star-drive factor five, Ensign Francis McCormack, the ship’s helmsman, replied.

Turning fifteen degrees to port, sir. New…heading bearing one…one…four mark zero…four...three, said Lieutenant Antonio Gato, the navigator.

Very well, Stephen responded confidently. Full sensor sweeps as soon as possible, Ensign Reese, he said over his shoulder.

At first, Ensign Reese tried to respond, but was unable to speak. She realized she had not only been wrong to address Lieutenant St. Claire in that way, she had also overstepped her authority by reinitializing one of the ship’s most critical systems. She turned back to the console, squeezed her eyes shut, and shrank into her chair. Yes, sir, she responded as confidently as she could.

At that moment, the Lexington’s sensor array completed its initialization sequence and the sensor’s console came alive with visual and audible alerts. Oh, no, what have I done! cried Ensign Reese.

She spun around and looked at Stephen, who was already staring at her. What is it, Ensign? Stephen asked, but the panic-stricken ensign couldn’t reply.

Behind us…. They’re behind us! she cried.

Stephen’s mouth was agape as he turned to his own console. On the sensor’s screen he saw three large distortions directly astern of the Lexington, flickering in space. Eyes widened in disbelief, he popped up and leaned toward the helm and navigation console in front of his command chair. Shields up! Helm hard to starboard! he ordered loudly.

Ensign McCormack rolled the Lady LEX hard to the right and pitched her bow downward. From the bridge’s main view screen, stars and clusters light-years from the ship rolled upward and away as the Lexington changed direction.

Shields are up! reported Lieutenant Gato.

Two large, glowing green and orange spheres passed over the main bridge and rocketed by the Lexington at high speed.

General quarters: All hands to battle stations! Captain Pyatt to the bridge, please! Stephen shouted into his communications console, just as the Lexington was rocked by a massive explosion. His tactical display identified the green and orange balls of energy as Sencar disruptor bursts, just as they slammed into the starboard shield. The Lexington was under attack. Helm, take evasive action and ready main pulse cannons! he ordered.

Ensign McCormack struggled to maneuver the Lexington. Suddenly, the ship was hit again on her starboard shield. She shuddered violently from the blast as the deafening sound of thunder roared through her hull. Three more bursts slammed into the vessel’s starboard side. The first two rolled the Andromeda-class cruiser fifteen degrees to port, causing power feeds to explode all over the ship. The Lexington’s crew held on desperately, fighting fires and shoring up collapsed bulkheads on several decks while the brutal assault continued to tear into their vessel.

The third Sencar plasma torpedo struck and overloaded the Lexington’s starboard power conduit, cutting the power to her entire starboard side. In the engineering section, the conduit exploded in a large red-and-white fireball. Sir, the starboard aft shield just collapsed! cried Ensign McCormack.

Stephen slumped back in his chair and stared angrily at the main view screen. He knew that, authorized or not, he had no choice but to engage the enemy. If the Lexington were hit again without her starboard deflector shield, she would be done for.

Sir, damage and casualty reports coming in from the starboard side, said Ensign Reese.

How bad is it, Reese? Stephen stared coldly.

Ensign Reese squinted as she strained to hear the damage reports amidst the flood of voices on the ship’s communications system. Collapsed bulkheads, fires, and radiation leakage across four decks, she reported. Sir, the captain and the executive officer were meeting on the starboard side.

Acknowledged, Stephen exhaled. Reese, you coordinate damage-control activities and alert sick bay to stand by for incoming casualties, he ordered.

Aye, sir, replied Ensign Reese.

Stephen grabbed the captain’s chair armrests and spun it around to face the navigator and helm stations. With the captain and XO missing and the ship under fire, he knew he had to attack and, if necessary, destroy the Sencar raiders so the Lexington could survive. Weapons officer, lock aft pulse cannons on to those distortions and fire, he ordered.

Aye, sir. Pulse cannons locked. Firing! replied Ensign Dean Michaels

A pulse of white energy formed on top of the Lexington’s main section and circled rapidly around the pulse cannon array. Three narrow beams shot from the aft section of the array and slammed into each of the Sencar ships, creating panic among their crews. Surprised by the Lexington’s quick counterattack, all three vessels slowed down to check for damage and reinitialize their cloaking screens. Stephen’s face lit up as he watched the Sencar vessels fall behind. Helm, ninety degrees to port. All ahead, maximum speed, he ordered.

All ahead, sir, replied Ensign McCormack.

The Sencar crews were still trying to recover from the Lexington’s pulse cannon attack. It was not long, however, before they were in full pursuit of the Coalition vessel.

Engineering to the bridge, echoed the voice of the Lexington’s chief engineer, Lieutenant Jimmy Watson, over the bridge console.

Go ahead, Jimmy, replied Stephen.

Stephen, we lost part of the conduit that feeds the starboard shield generator, and there’s a plasma leak on the starboard star-drive manifold.

Stephen lifted his eyebrows and rubbed his wrinkled forehead as he watched the Sencar ships close the distance between themselves and the Lexington. He knew that, without two fully functional star-drive nacelles, it would be impossible to maintain speed or outrun their pursuers. The situation had become critical; he needed to act fast.

Sir, the Sencar ships are no longer cloaked, bearing two…one…four mark one…four…five, range three hundred thousand kilometers, Ensign Reese reported.

Thank you, Ensign Reese. Helmsman, prepare to drop the ship out of light speed.

Drop out of light speed, sir? the helmsman asked.

Stephen didn’t answer but proceeded to hail the chief engineer on the ship’s internal communications system. Bridge to Engineering: Jimmy, what’s the status of starboard manifold? he asked.

Engineering, Watson here. We’re going to need more time to repair the power conduit that feeds the manifold. Till then, one quarter is the best I can give you.

Jimmy, I don’t want you to seal the conduit just yet; in fact, just the opposite, Stephen explained. I want you to jettison as large a volume of plasma as possible directly into space, enough to create a massive magnetic distortion. Can you do it?

Aye, sir. Standing by, but…what for? Watson questioned.

Sir, Sencar ships now one hundred fifty thousand kilometers and closing, Ensign Reese stated.

Acknowledged, Stephen glanced quickly toward her. He realized the time had come to bring his anxious bridge crew up-to-speed on his plan to deal with the Sencar ships. He walked to the forward part of the bridge, stood directly in front of the main view screen, and turned to face the crew. Engineering, you still with me? he asked, speaking into the console.

Yes, sir, Lieutenant Watson replied over the bridge speaker.

"All right, here’s what we’re going to do: Mr. McCormack, I want you to gradually reduce the Lexington’s speed and make it look as though we’re losing power.

Engineering, Stephen proceeded, "when the Sencar ships are right on top of us… Jimmy, I need you to eject the plasma through the emergency release system on the starboard manifold.

Weapons officer, when I give the word, fire a single antimatter torpedo into the plasma field and ignite it. That should blind their sensors for about seven or eight seconds, Stephen went on.

We’ll come about one hundred and eighty degrees and fly directly into the burning plasma field. Once we emerge on the other side, we’ll give the Sencar vessels a full spread of antimatter torpedoes and pulse cannon fire. With any luck, they won’t see it coming.

Stephen’s plan was both bold and equally dangerous. He knew that if he could successfully blind the Sencar ships for even a few seconds, he could move in closer and overwhelm them with the Lexington’s formidable firepower. On the other hand, if they didn’t take the bait, or if he waited too long to ignite the plasma field, the Sencar would hammer the Lexington’s shields and likely destroy her.

Is everyone clear on what to do? Stephen asked.

Aye, sir, Chief Watson and the bridge team replied in unison.

Stephen returned to the captain’s chair and activated his tactical display. Status of the Sencar ships, Ensign Reese, he ordered strongly.

Sencar vessels bearing one…eleven…mark three…one…two, range seventy-five thousand kilometers, sir, replied Ensign Reese.

All right, let’s begin: Weapons officer, lock on to the Sencar ships. Helm, begin reducing speed, Stephen commanded.

Weapons are locked on, sir, replied Lieutenant Michaels.

Speed reduced to sub-light, sir, Ensign Gato followed.

Enemy vessels are closing, sir. Range sixty thousand kilometers, said Ensign Reese.

The Sencar ships continued to close the range on the Lexington, and the crew became increasingly anxious. They shifted in the chairs nervously and looked at one another for reassurance, each doubtful of their survival. Just as it seemed their anxieties would overwhelm them, there came encouraging news on the ship’s missing captain and first officer. Sir, I have a text-only message here. It’s from the captain! cried Ensign Reese.

Let’s hear it, Reese, Stephen replied.

I’m trapped with number one on starboard C deck. We are aware of situation, St. Claire. Proceed as you think best. Good luck. Pyatt, Reese smiled.

Thank you, Ensign, Stephen replied.

The captain’s message was more than relief that the old man was alive and well; it was a firm reassurance to the entire crew that he had left the bridge of the Lexington in the right hands. Captain Pyatt trusted Stephen, believed in him, and now everyone knew it.

Status of the intruders, please, Stephen ordered. The command was general, not aimed at any specific officer. Stephen knew that a well-trained bridge crew could interpret a command and automatically determine who should respond to it. He had observed this on the bridge of the Lexington, when Captain Pyatt was in the command chair.

Sir, Sencar ships now bearing one…eleven mark four…one…two, range thirty thousand kilometers, Ensign Reese reported.

Weapons lock is holding, sir, said Lieutenant Michaels.

The moment of truth was upon the Lexington’s crew. The next few desperate minutes could determine the fate of everyone aboard. Lieutenant Gato grinned and shook his head nervously at Ensign McCormack.

Engineering, stand by to release the plasma, Stephen said. Mr. Michaels, get ready to fire the torpedo.

Sencar ships now ten thousand kilometers, sir, cried Ensign Reese.

There was no response from Stephen. He just sat in the command chair glaring into the main view screen. The crew became confused and concerned. Had he panicked frozen? Did he understand that the Sencar were about to attack? Finally, a worried Ensign Reese attempted to reach him, to be sure that he was still with them. Sir, she said with a clear and calm voice, are you all right?

Still staring at the main view screen, Stephen interlocked his fingers, began slowly counting down from ten thousand, until he finally stopped. Stand by. Here it comes, he said.

The lead Sencar ship fired a single disruptor burst, which exploded onto the Lexington’s aft shield. The force jolted the ship forward and pinned the bridge crew in the back of their seats. On the lower decks, crew members were knocked off their feet and thrown against the ship’s bulkheads.

Direct hit on aft shield, no damage. The shield is holding, sir, Ensign Michaels said.

Perfect. Right on schedule, Stephen mumbled. Engineering, release the plasma burst. Mr. Michaels, stand by to fire, he commanded.

This was the order that Chief Engineer Jimmy Watson had been waiting for. Watson stood in the main engineering section, under the two huge conduits that stored the highly volatile plasma gas. He turned to his two third-class engineers and made circular motions with his fingers as he pointed to the conduits. Okay, guys, release the plasma.

With the Sencar ships in pursuit, the Lexington hurled through space, trailing a long line of highly charged plasma. The gas poured from the ship’s right engine manifold and quickly expanded in the vacuum of space.

The Sencar commanders watched, assumed this was damage caused by their disruptor fire, and continued to close in on the Lexington.

Fire antimatter torpedo, Mr. Michaels, Stephen ordered. Aft viewer projection, please, Mr. Gato.

The lone antimatter torpedo jetted from the rear of the Lexington and arched toward the plasma field, disappearing into its milky center. Seconds later, it exploded. The sudden release of matter-antimatter energy ignited the plasma and created a glowing white hot sphere, which could be seen more than one hundred thousand kilometers from the blast site.

Stephen held his hand up to block out the sun-like glow from the burning plasma field. He wanted to be sure the raging storm was at its highest before he dared to take the Lexington in. Helm, one hundred eighty degrees about. Stand by, torpedo, and pulse cannon barrage, Stephen suddenly ordered.

Aye, sir, coming about, replied Lieutenant Gato.

The Lexington’s helmsman turned the huge ship around and placed her on a direct course for the center of the plasma fireball and the Sencar. On board the Sencar cruisers, there was total confusion. They believed the explosion they had just witnessed had been the Lexington’s, but were unable to confirm it. As the Sencar tactical officers desperately scanned for the Lexington’s fate, she suddenly burst through the plasma cloud less than one thousand kilometers directly in front of them.

The crew of the CSS Lexington had achieved the most important elements of any successful counterattack: surprise, position, and firepower. The excitement on her bridge grew exponentially when they saw the three Sencar ships appear below them. Lieutenant Gato smiled backed at Stephen, then quickly returned to the helm console and steered straight for the Sencar ships.

The Sencar had deployed their raiders in a standard formation—two above, one below. Stephen smiled when he saw his now-vulnerable enemy ships served up before him. A turkey-shoot formation, he mumbled to himself. Helm, roll fifteen degrees port and take us directly into the center of their formation, he ordered.

Rolling fifteen degrees, sir, said Lieutenant Gato.

As she streaked toward the Sencar vessels, the Lexington rolled to her left and placed her upper and lower pulse cannon arrays between the ships in the enemy formation.

Mr. Michaels, fire pulse cannons and torpedoes, Stephen ordered.

Aye, sir, firing torpedo and pulse cannon salvos, said Michaels.

Blue streams of high-energy particles erupted from the Lexington’s upper and lower pulse cannon array, slamming into the forward sections of two Sencar vessels and shattering their forward shields. Seconds later, four of the Lexington’s Mark IX torpedoes exploded against the unprotected hulls of the enemy ships.

The pod-shaped Sencar ships rolled violently as the forward sections of their hulls buckled and started to collapse. Large sections of two of the Sencar ships had been blasted away, and were now floating in space. From the main view screen aboard the Lady LEX, the crew watched as the explosions continued to tear apart the Sencar cruisers, leaving two of the raiders adrift and burning in space.

Helm, take us out of here at the best-possible speed, Stephen ordered. The Lexington rocketed away from the crippled Sencar raiders, engaged her star-drive engines, and disappeared in a blinding white flash of light. On that day, Stephen St. Claire proved to be a capable and effective commander. Captain Pyatt was so impressed with his handling of the ship and her crew, he recommended the lieutenant for the Coalition’s commendation for valor.

A