The Epherium Chronicles: Echoes Read Free Page B

Communications Station on the far side of the bridge. The young officer quickly conveyed the message to the communications officer, and the first distress call went out a few seconds later.
    Styles sat in his chair and gently stroked the armrest. “Sorry, girl,” he whispered. “I don’t know what happened, but we’ll make it right.” He’d been the captain of the
Cestus
for nearly ten years, her first and only captain since she was commissioned. They’d been together through the war and countless missions. Now they just had to wait.
    “New contact!” The warning was firm and immediate from the sensors officer to Styles’s left.
    The announcement brought Styles to his feet in a flash. “Can you identify?” he asked, his heart already starting to race.
    The blond-haired young ensign at the Sensors Station continued to adjust settings on his terminal. “Negative, sir. I can’t get a definitive sensor image, but she’s close. Definitely within ten thousand meters.”
    “Keep on it and get me an ID on that ship!”
    Turnbow’s terminal beeped, and Styles leaned over to check the status message. The
Cestus’s
tactical systems had come back online.
    Styles wheeled toward his tactical officer’s station. “Talk to me, Lieutenant. What’s our new friend up to out there?”
    Lieutenant Carlos Abandi was one of the most experienced tactical officers in the EDF Fleet, but the baffled look on his face didn’t give Styles any confidence. “Sir, I still can’t get a lock on it, or any decent reading at all. But whatever it is, it’s fast.” Abandi hastened his effort to gain new information on the contact. After several moments, it was clear he wasn’t having much success. “I still can’t get a reading on that vessel, sir. I’m only picking up a rough bearing when she moves. The sensors have stabilized, so it has to be a new form of countermeasures.” His terminal flashed a new warning. “She’s targeting us!”
    Styles opened up a shipwide comm channel. “All hands, we are under attack. General Quarters, man your battle stations. I repeat, all hands to battle stations.” Styles had barely finished his call to the crew when a vicious impact amidships jolted the command crew from their station posts. Without main power, there was no inertial stabilizer, and even minor course corrections would force crew members to adjust their footing.
    “Damage report!” Styles yelled.
    Turnbow staggered back to his own station and accessed his terminal. “Explosive impact on our port side. It could have been a projectile weapon. Armor breaches on decks five and six, but no containment breach.”
    Styles needed to fend off their attacker and fast. “Dammit, Abandi, get me a targeting solution on that ship!” There was no answer. Styles looked back at the Tactical Station behind them and could see the unconscious body of his tactical officer on the floor of the bridge. He froze for a moment, gripped in a web of anger and fear at the sight. With a quick burst of will, he broke free of his paralysis. He tapped Turnbow’s shoulder then pointed to Abandi’s station. “Go.”
    Turnbow bounded around his own terminal and reached the Tactical Station in seconds. Abandi’s body was at his feet and the man still wasn’t moving. Turnbow stepped over his crewmate and accessed the terminal. Styles could hear the warning chirp from the terminal as Turnbow enabled the tracking systems. “Captain, she’s coming around for another pass!”
    “Can you get a lock on her?”
    Styles watched Turnbow strive in desperation to acquire a targeting lock, but the masked signature continued to thwart his efforts. “Negative. Whatever countermeasures she’s using, our systems still can’t overcome them.” The XO entered a new sequence of commands into the terminal. “Sir, I’m going to have our point defense cannons fire a blanket spread when she closes. It won’t be very effective at range, but maybe we can drive her