SECTION FIVE: THE OUTER COLONY INSURGENCY: THE
GORGON V. THE BELLICOSE (2495–2504)
Cole was quickly promoted (although not without some protest) to first lieutenant and then commander and given a small corvette to patrol the Outer Colonies. After a dozen successful engagements in five years against insurgent forces and privateer fleets he was promoted to captain and received the honor of commanding the first heavy-destroyer-class vessel armed with a magnetic accelerator cannon (MAC), the UNSC Gorgon.
In Cole’s personal logs he attributes his success more to luck than skill in battle, and he wonders if his rapid promotion was warranted. He also notes that insurgent atrocities may have greased the public relations aspect of his promotions.
Cole might have sensed part of the truth. The Navy had latched onto him as a figurehead to quell an unease percolating through the Inner Colonies. Many of the Inner Colonies were beginning to wonder if it was just to hold on so tightly to their Outer Colony cousins.
Earth needed a hero to distract its populace from an inconvenient moral confusion.
Meanwhile, the insurgency had learned how to hide, strategize, and terrorize as well. They had organized (by theft, customization of industrial vehicles, or by wholesale construction of their own ships) a sizable fleet.
Cole’s record was not without its blemishes. In particular, the UNSC Bellerophon (a frigate captured by the insurgency and renamed the Bellicose ), engaged Cole thrice: escaping twice, and once, fighting him to a draw.
Preston Cole’s otherwise impressive military record did not come without a high personal cost.
Personal communique from Cole, Preston J. (UNSC Service
Number: 00814-13094-BQ) to Volkov, Inna (Civilian ID#: 9081-
613-7122-P) \ Routing Trace: UNITY 557 \ March 9, 2500
(Military Calendar)
Inna,
Your last letter caught me by surprise.
Is this how you truly feel? After all these years? A divorce?
I know your father would never pressure you into leaving me, so I have to assume this is how you feel, or that there is another person involved . . . or that it is somehow my fault.
Yes. That is it. It is my fault.
You never wanted a long-distance military marriage—and neither one of us expected to endure three extensions of my tour of duty. I cannot imagine how you must feel, so far away, with me in danger, not knowing if your husband will ever come back, and always having to wear a brave face for the military social elite that orbit your family.
I wish I could give this up and come home, be a husband for you, and a father for our children who are growing up not even knowing me, apart from the official broadcasts that are sent to Earth.
But the Navy needs me, too. Just by being here, I am saving lives . . . saving us all by stopping these border conflicts from flaring into full civil war.
Maybe you don‘t want to understand that, or can‘t. But I do. I have to stay.
I will always love you. I will always love the kids.
Please reconsider your decision.
I await your final word but I stand by my duty.
Ever yours,
Preston
0700 HOURS JUNE 2, 2501 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ UNSC
DESTROYER GORGON \ THETA URSAE MAJORIS SYSTEM
BRIDGE LOG (PRIMARY, VIDEO, SPATIAL ENHANCEMENTS=TRUE)
Captain Cole did not sit in his padded chair on the raised center of the Gorgon ‘s bridge. Instead, he paced, stopped to glance over the shoulders of his officers at their stations, but otherwise kept moving like a shark.
Cole‘s temples were tinged gray. Where there had once been laugh lines, crisscrosses of
concentration now crinkled his eyes. Other than these telltale signs of strain, however, he was the model of calm and thoughtfulness; confidence emanated from him like a magnetic field.
The UNSC Gorgon had engaged in two battles in the last seventy-two hours—so when it crossed paths with the insurgent-captured Bellerophon , the Gorgon had severely depleted munitions and a weary crew.
They battled the Bellerophon for the previous 34.7 minutes, peppering one another with Archer missiles, and then the Gorgon slung around a planetoid to come around at the proper angle for a killing shot.
It was a ―kill" shot. There was no other possible outcome.
No ship had yet evaded the new magnetic accelerator cannon, which could accelerate a
tungsten-alloy slug to a fraction of the speed of light.
A shudder ran through the Gorgon and a flash filled the main view screen, a blurred afterimage of glowing metal that faded into the infrared.
The Gorgon ‘s AI, Watchmaker, flickered upon his pedestal, a wizened old man holding a huge pocket timepiece with a dozen arms and dials.
―Time on target?" Cole demanded.
Watchmaker‘s eyes riveted upon his clock. ―Six seconds to impact."
On the screen the fired MAC slug was visually enhanced so it glowed soft blue—its trajectory a flat line speeding toward the enemy.
―She‘s coming about—new course 030 by 090," Lieutenant Maliki, at Navigation, said. ―Her
reactors are past the red line."
The Bellerophon ‘s desperate acceleration to avoid destruction was useless, because for all practical purposes, compared to the MAC round, the ship stood still.
―Missile fire detected!" Lieutenant Betters, at weapons, announced.
―Won‘t do them any good," Maliki murmured. ―At this extreme range we can pick off their
missiles with the Helix system."
But the Archer missiles fired from the Bellerophon prematurely detonated—puffs of fire in the vacuum that made a dotted line in space . . . drawn straight from the Bellerophon to the Gorgon .
One distant explosion smeared across the black of space, however, and ever-so-slightly nudged the line representing the multiton ballistic projectile.
The blue line then closed on the silhouette of the Bellerophon . . . overlapped . . . and continued past the frigate.
―That‘s not possible!" Lieutenant Betters said, standing.
―It is possible," Cole said, ―just not very likely."
―Ballistic tracking confirms," Watchmaker said. ―We missed."
Lieutenant Maliki turned to face the captain. ―They anticipated our firing the MAC, sir? How?"
―A guess," Cole replied staring at the view screen. ―An educated guess, though, because we had the right angle on them. Still . . . incredibly lucky." Cole frowned. ―And a brilliant defensive use of the last of their missiles."
―Not at all," Watchmaker quipped. ―Those detonations were on a vector traced from the Gorgon to the Bellerophon . A reasonable estimation of the MAC trajectory and a precise gauge of distance."
He snapped his watch shut.
―They can explain how they know so much about our MAC after we capture them," Betters