Excelsior Read Online Free PDF Page B

seconds Earth silhouetted the station with a dazzling white and blue halo.
     
    The rest of the Alliance armada was nowhere to be seen, but Alexander knew they would still be at GEO and much too far away to see without magnification.
     
    “Brace for maneuvering thrust,” Davorian reported from the helm.
     
    Alexander felt the ship turn. His view panned away from Orbital One and Earth to face the vast starry darkness of outer space. G-force was minimal since the bridge was located at the Lincoln’s rotational center.
     
    “Helm, what’s our ETA to reach Lewis Station?”
     
    “Just under a week, Captain,” Davorian replied.
     
    “And the Confederates?”
     
    “They’ll be about six hours behind us, assuming regulation rates of acceleration and deceleration.”
     
    “We may have to push past regulation limits on this one. Our orders are to beat the Confederates to Lewis Station.”
     
    “Yes, sir… I don’t have Lewis Station marked on my star maps,” Davorian said.
     
    “It’s at our final mission waypoint, and you can’t see it because the very existence of that station is classified. Head for the waypoint. You’ll find Lewis Station when we get close enough.”
     
    “Yes, sir… thrusters going hot in five, four, three, two, one!”
     
    Alexander braced himself. Then came a deafening roar, and the Lincoln shuddered all around them. A gut-wrenching boost shoved them against their couches, and the Lincoln shot away from Orbital One. Acceleration rose swiftly, pressing Alexander against the back of his couch with terrifying force. His cheeks threatened to peel back from his face, and he had to force himself to breathe. The combat suit helped to keep him breathing and to make sure blood didn’t pool where it shouldn’t, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Alexander felt like he weighed a thousand pounds. He clutched the armrests of his couch, knuckles turning white, elbows pinned to the padded backing. His heart labored in his chest. His vision dimmed and narrowed.
     
    A blackout was coming.
     
    Then, suddenly, the acceleration eased, and he gasped collectively with the crew. “Davorian! What the hell was that?” Alexander demanded, his voice hoarse from the strain of so many Gs. “That couldn’t have been regulation thrust.”
     
    “Sorry, sir… That was 20 Gs. I don’t know what happened. We had a malfunction with the thruster controls, but I’m using the computer to compensate. Acceleration is set to a steady three point five Gs now, but we’ll be backing off to two in a moment.”
     
    “McAdams, what caused that malfunction, and why didn’t you see it? Another few Gs and we’d all be unconscious right now.”
     
    “I don’t know, sir…” McAdams replied. “I’m looking into it.”
     
    Alexander grunted. Rookie.
     
    “Time to reach cruising speed?”
     
    “One hour fifty eight minutes,” Davorian replied. “Speed set to one hundred and sixty klicks per second.”
     
    Alexander tried to nod, but he found his head was still pinned to his headrest. Likewise, his chest still felt heavy and his heartbeat was irregular. He struggled to imagine spending the next two hours like that. His stomach rolled just thinking about it.
     
    “Acceleration dropping to two Gs,” Davorian reported.
     
    Alexander felt the weight on his chest ease, and he took a deep breath. Now he weighed about 300 pounds.
     
    “Sir!” Hayes called out from the comm station. “Admiral Flores is ordering us to relay her transmission to the Confederates.”
     
    “Are we cleared to watch?”
     
    “Yes, sir.”
     
    “Put them on the secondary holo displays then, Hayes.”
     
    The ship’s right and left holo displays faded from space to their respective video transmissions. Admiral Flores appeared on the right. Behind her, Alexander once again recognized the hectic bustle of Orbital One’s command center.
     
    On the left, an unfamiliar man appeared. He was strapped into an acceleration couch.