Operation Orion - Kevin Dockery [40]
Arcton II came into view during that graceful spin, and he couldn’t help feeling a twinge of awe. The sphere was much huger than Earth, half-illuminated by the blazing radiance of the star called Arcton. He could see a couple of the moons, similarly half-lit, and guessed that the other two must be behind the massive planet. The Pegasus approached at an angle that would put her into a polar orbit, and Jackson watched in growing awe as the great body loomed to fill almost the entire forward view.
His communicator chirped as a disembodied voice from the CIC informed him that they were an hour out. Unwilling to leave his front row seat, he contacted Sanders and ordered the junior lieutenant to get the Team up and outfitted for potential action. Until they moved, there would be nothing for him to do in SEALS country, and he didn’t want to miss the chance to see what was on the other side of the planet.
Finally the Pegasus started to move past the pole of the great rust-colored body. The “surface” below him, Jackson knew, was in reality a churning mass of gases, though it looked remarkably solid from space. The nearest of the moons sparkled with many twinkling lights on the dark side, proof of a large, industrious population. And then that body was past, and the frigate curved into an orbital path, still decelerating as it swept past the roiling mass of the gas giant.
“We’ve got bogeys on screen!” one of the two gunners called.
Jackson could see flashes against the dark backdrop of space like sparks in a shadowy room or fireflies dancing in the summer night.
“There’s the Troy!” the other sailor called out. The ship was too far away to see with the naked eye, but he consulted a vidscreen that showed the other frigate in amazing detail. “She’s been hit!”
Jackson leaned over the man’s shoulder, sickened at the sight of the damaged frigate. One engine smoldered, and flames spewed and then faded along the punctured hull. “She’s under attack by a whole fleet!” he said, observing other ships in the picture. Some of them were large and were shooting at the U.S. Navy frigate. Others were smaller and swooped in and out of the melee, firing small cannons.
Then something smashed hard into the Plexiglas dome of the Pegasus. Jackson reeled, stunned.
But even through his confusion he heard the terrifying sound of air escaping from a ruptured hull.
Nine: Broadsides
The impact of the explosion threw Jackson to the unforgiving surface of the deck. When the ship was in deceleration, the surface of L Deck was the Plexiglas sheet separating the interior of the ship from the cold vacuum of space. His face was pressed against that transparent barrier. His nose throbbed, and he wondered if it was broken; the pain brought tears to his eyes and blurred the nearly infinite vista on the other side of the glass.
But he could feel and he could hear in spite of his ears popping from the changing air pressure. The scream of gushing air increased in volume and depth, suggesting that whatever hole had been breached in the hull was growing wider. His right arm and right leg were icy cold as the air blast rushed over his limbs, so he knew that the breach was to that side. Frantically, he flailed with his left hand, his fingers closing around one of the many rails mounted on the deck. Holding on for everything he was worth, he pulled himself against the force of that pummeling wash of air, hooking his leg over the rail to hold himself in place.
His vision cleared, and he looked around. One of the sailors of the gun crew was slumped in his seat, blood spraying from a gash in his forehead. The spray formed a misty cloud in the rush of escaping air, and Jackson followed the stream down to the deck.
There was a hole in the Plexiglas!
The Pegasus had taken a hit, and something had punched right through the reinforced crystal barrier that was L