Read Online A Just Determination by John G. Hemry - Free Book Online
Authors: John G. Hemry
Tags: Science-Fiction
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"Paul."
Sinclair tried not to jerk in guilty surprise as Jan spoke right on the heels of his last thought. "Yes?"
"We're coming up on that course change."
"We are?" Paul checked his display, appalled to see less than ten minutes remained until the optimum time for the maneuver. "Okay. Okay."
"Relax. I'm here. The petty officer at the helm knows his job. There's no other ships detected within a thousand kilometers. You can't screw up too bad. Ready to call the Captain?"
Paul hesitated, wishing Tweed would take on that responsibility, then nodded. He mentally ran through the wording of his statement again, then keyed the circuit to the Captain's cabin. "Captain Wakeman. Bridge."
After a brief pause, a clipped answer came. "Yes."
"Sir, this is the Junior Officer of the Deck. We are, that is, the Michaelson is approaching—"
"Briefly. Spit it out."
Paul swallowed. "We are coming up on a course change in six minutes, Captain."
"Why?"
"To enter our operating area and merge with our track, sir."
"Very well."
The circuit clicked dead. Paul fought down a wave of annoyance, glancing over at Jan, who shrugged in reply. "Bosun mate of the Watch?"
"Yes, sir."
"Notify the crew that we will be maneuvering in five minutes."
"Aye, aye, sir." The bosun mate keyed the intercom, calling out the warning throughout the ship.
Paul waited, watching the minutes and seconds count down. At zero, he called out commands in a voice he thought a little too loud, a little too strident. "Helm, maneuvering thrusters at one-third power. Bring us to course one eight zero degrees absolute, up ten degrees. Maintain main drive at all-ahead one third."
"Maneuvering thrusters at one-third, aye. Coming to course one eight zero degrees absolute, up ten degrees." Michaelson shuddered again as the thrusters pushed her onto a new vector, her mass slowly responding to the pressure. Paul watch with a sense of pleasure as the ship swung onto the projected course vector he'd calculated.
"Captain's on the bridge!"
Paul looked around frantically as Captain Wakeman hopped into his chair and fastened his harness, then looked over at him and Tweed. "Let's get going!" Wakeman commanded. "Thrusters on full! Main drive ahead two-thirds!"
Paul glanced at Tweed, who quickly signaled him to comply. Hastily checking the display again to ensure the maneuver wouldn't cause immediate problems with other contacts in the area, Paul called out the commands. "Thrusters on full. Main drive ahead two thirds." The helm echoed the command, then the Michaelson jumped under the multiplied force of her drives. Inertia and acceleration tugged at Paul, making him thankful for his tight harness, as the ship yawed into a tighter, faster turn. The hull groaned, complaining of the strain on its structure. Paul scanned his display, watching the ship's projected track swinging far off the planned course through the oparea and trying to understand the reason for Captain's orders.
Wakeman leaned back, grinning happily even though his face reflected the stress of the maneuvers. "This is more like it! Looking good, people! Now, where are we going? What are we doing?"
For the first time in his life, Paul felt his jaw actually drop in amazement as he stared at Wakeman. He has no idea where we're going or why and he kicked the ship around like that?
Tweed signaled him again, a resigned expression on her face, speaking softly. "I'll take it, Paul." Then, in a louder voice she called to the bridge. "This is Lieutenant Tweed. I have the conn. Captain, we are enroute our planned track through the oparea . . ."
Paul felt his attention straying from Tweed's words, still stunned that a cruiser had been jerked around for no discernible reason. He watched the subsequent maneuvers, as Tweed nursed the Michaelson back onto the track the ship had been intended to take. Captain Wakeman looked increasingly bored, then abruptly popped out of his chair and headed for the hatch.
"The Captain has left
"Paul."
Sinclair tried not to jerk in guilty surprise as Jan spoke right on the heels of his last thought. "Yes?"
"We're coming up on that course change."
"We are?" Paul checked his display, appalled to see less than ten minutes remained until the optimum time for the maneuver. "Okay. Okay."
"Relax. I'm here. The petty officer at the helm knows his job. There's no other ships detected within a thousand kilometers. You can't screw up too bad. Ready to call the Captain?"
Paul hesitated, wishing Tweed would take on that responsibility, then nodded. He mentally ran through the wording of his statement again, then keyed the circuit to the Captain's cabin. "Captain Wakeman. Bridge."
After a brief pause, a clipped answer came. "Yes."
"Sir, this is the Junior Officer of the Deck. We are, that is, the Michaelson is approaching—"
"Briefly. Spit it out."
Paul swallowed. "We are coming up on a course change in six minutes, Captain."
"Why?"
"To enter our operating area and merge with our track, sir."
"Very well."
The circuit clicked dead. Paul fought down a wave of annoyance, glancing over at Jan, who shrugged in reply. "Bosun mate of the Watch?"
"Yes, sir."
"Notify the crew that we will be maneuvering in five minutes."
"Aye, aye, sir." The bosun mate keyed the intercom, calling out the warning throughout the ship.
Paul waited, watching the minutes and seconds count down. At zero, he called out commands in a voice he thought a little too loud, a little too strident. "Helm, maneuvering thrusters at one-third power. Bring us to course one eight zero degrees absolute, up ten degrees. Maintain main drive at all-ahead one third."
"Maneuvering thrusters at one-third, aye. Coming to course one eight zero degrees absolute, up ten degrees." Michaelson shuddered again as the thrusters pushed her onto a new vector, her mass slowly responding to the pressure. Paul watch with a sense of pleasure as the ship swung onto the projected course vector he'd calculated.
"Captain's on the bridge!"
Paul looked around frantically as Captain Wakeman hopped into his chair and fastened his harness, then looked over at him and Tweed. "Let's get going!" Wakeman commanded. "Thrusters on full! Main drive ahead two-thirds!"
Paul glanced at Tweed, who quickly signaled him to comply. Hastily checking the display again to ensure the maneuver wouldn't cause immediate problems with other contacts in the area, Paul called out the commands. "Thrusters on full. Main drive ahead two thirds." The helm echoed the command, then the Michaelson jumped under the multiplied force of her drives. Inertia and acceleration tugged at Paul, making him thankful for his tight harness, as the ship yawed into a tighter, faster turn. The hull groaned, complaining of the strain on its structure. Paul scanned his display, watching the ship's projected track swinging far off the planned course through the oparea and trying to understand the reason for Captain's orders.
Wakeman leaned back, grinning happily even though his face reflected the stress of the maneuvers. "This is more like it! Looking good, people! Now, where are we going? What are we doing?"
For the first time in his life, Paul felt his jaw actually drop in amazement as he stared at Wakeman. He has no idea where we're going or why and he kicked the ship around like that?
Tweed signaled him again, a resigned expression on her face, speaking softly. "I'll take it, Paul." Then, in a louder voice she called to the bridge. "This is Lieutenant Tweed. I have the conn. Captain, we are enroute our planned track through the oparea . . ."
Paul felt his attention straying from Tweed's words, still stunned that a cruiser had been jerked around for no discernible reason. He watched the subsequent maneuvers, as Tweed nursed the Michaelson back onto the track the ship had been intended to take. Captain Wakeman looked increasingly bored, then abruptly popped out of his chair and headed for the hatch.
"The Captain has left
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