“Incoming fire!” the sensor op yelled. Sleipnir rocked as three enemy ship killers slammed against her already weakened shields. An instant later a particle beam from the surviving enemy battlecruiser slammed into the ship just ahead of the CIC.
Someone screamed as several panels shorted, and the lights flickered. There was a roar of escaping oxygen, and the DCC yelled for everyone to close their helmets. The ship started to slew off course.
“Major damage to avionics!” the DCC commed. Yoshuka slid his helmet closed and scanned the CIC’s various stations. His ship was hurt, badly, but still in the fight.
“Get the backups going,” he said, “and try to reinforce the shields.”
“That battlecruiser is retargeting,” the SitCon said, shaking his head. “I think we’re screwed.”
A flight of a dozen missiles arced out from the enemy battlecruiser as its battery of gigawatt-range particle cannons glowed in preparation to fire. Stonewall Jackson skewed her course, neatly intersecting the missiles and the three particle beams aimed at Sleipnir.
The missiles knocked out the ancient heavy cruiser’s twice-repaired shields, and two of the three particle beams carved into her hull. The ship’s massive armor absorbed one of them, but the other penetrated, slicing into her forward section.
“Damn it, Captain Ewald! You are out of formation!”
“You can thank me later,” the heavy cruiser’s commander said. The sound of alarms and explosions could be heard over the radio. “But I think we’re done for now.” On the Tri-V, flashes of light and venting gases poured from the wound, yet somehow, the ship still responded to commands and rolled to present undamaged armor and shields while maneuvering toward the rear of the fleet.
“He saved our asses,” Soos said. Four cruisers sent a wave of missiles into the enemy battlecruiser, wiping out its shields before its crew could fire the ship’s particle beam weapon. Gaping holes appeared in the enemy battlecruiser, which fell out of control.
Another wave of missiles from a dozen surviving enemy frigates flashed to the far side of the formation, slamming into the cruiser Citation. It was too much, and the cruiser was torn apart.
Yoshuka watched the drones tear into the last large group of enemy cruisers and frigates working together. The group’s coordination fell apart, and the Hussars’ cruisers sent wave after wave of missiles into them.
“Commander, I have enemy comms.”
“Put it on,” Yoshuka said.
“Winged Hussars, this is Captain Fseek on the cruiser Steadfast Branch.”
“Captain Fseek, this is Commander Yoshuka on the Winged Hussars’ battlecruiser Sleipnir.”
“Yoshuka? You are Maki, like us.”
“I am,” he confirmed. “What do you want, Captain?” There was a short pause.
“Regards to you and your command. I wish to offer our surrender.”
“Accepted. Stand down.”
“They are standing down,” Flipper confirmed.
“This is Commander Yoshuka, all Hussars, cease fire.”
“Helm control has been restored,” the DCC said, floating in. The man’s spacesuit was slightly charred, but he was smiling through the face mask. Yoshuka nodded. They’d won.
* * *
Space Dock Central Complex, Golara System
The hull of the station thrummed from almost non-stop MAC fire. Second Squad was under constant attack by dozens of armored Tortantula. They didn’t have Flatar riders; these were Tortantula shock troopers, blood-crazed killing machines. They’d jumped across from the station without space suits. Of everything he’d heard, that terrified him the most.
Jim led the group as they pushed toward the command deck. So much heavy weapons fire was flying in both directions he was afraid the station’s arm might come apart. They’d passed the 10-minute mark; they were committed now, but he’d only gotten halfway up the landing. Buddha and Moose were carrying a huge hunk of decking they’d cut loose, using it as a mobile shield, while the MinSha replied with heavy laser fire. The shield glowed red hot, but they were almost close enough to make their last ditch assault.
“Pegasus Actual to Cartwright Actual.”
“I know what you’re going to say, Alexis!” Jim snapped, not following protocol. “We almost have it, give us another five minutes.”
“Jim, you can hold,” she said.
“What? No, don’t make us stop. The Cavaliers don’t fail!”
“Jim!” she snapped. “The fleet surrendered. We’ve won.”
“Won? Oh, wow. Excellent.” From several decks down there were fresh explosions.
“We’re hitting the Torts from below,” Hargrave said. “Finished our objective; thought you could use a hand.”
Jim nodded, shaking sweat from his head. “Finish them off,” he ordered. It made little sense to offer surrender to a Tortantula, especially one of the shock troopers.
“With pleasure,” Hargrave snarled.
Wow, he really doesn’t like them, Jim thought. He turned his loudspeaker on and got as close to the edge going down to the next level as he could. A heavy laser shot took a chunk out of the top of the shield, and he backed his CASPer up a few centimeters.
“Defenders, can you hear me?”
“What do you want, Human?” a MinSha yelled back.
“Surrender.”
“Eat shit!”
Jim chuckled; he hadn’t known that was a universal curse. “Your fleet just surrendered. You can die or give up yourself. Commander Cromwell from the Winged Hussars wants to slice your command center off and let it fall into the planet, and frankly, I’m tired of playing games with you.” Another explosion rocked the station arm. “My XO is polishing off your Tortantulas. So, what’s it going to be? A brave fight to the death, or a free ride home?”
“You would allow us to go home?” The translator conveyed her surprise.
“Yes,” Jim agreed. “Within reason.”
“What does ‘within reason’ mean?”
“It means we’ll have to make arrangements, since the Mercenary Guild is currently trying to kill all of us.”
“We do not know about these things,” the MinSha said. “My company was contracted as marines for this facility along with the Goka and some stupid Lumar.”
“Then what is your decision?”
There was quiet for a time. The station’s life support was still able to keep almost full pressure, so they could hear an argument that went on for a minute or so. The loudest voice sounded like a Maki, who Jim guessed was the person in charge of the system’s defenses.
“No! I will not allow it,” the voice yelled. A second later, a single laser snapped, then there was silence below.
“Are you there, Human?”
“Yes,” Jim said.
“The commodore was reluctant to surrender. I relieved him of command. As the new commander, I offer our surrender under the sole terms that we eventually be repatriated.”
Jim grinned. “Your terms are accepted.”
* * *
Revenge One, Space Dock 3X, Golara System
“How about setting us down on the end of the dock on the right side,” Nigel said. “Coordinate with the other dropship to land on the bottom of that arm; that way, we can go into it in force.”
“Why?” Guido asked. “Didn’t they just say the forces in-system had surrendered?”
“Yes, they did,” Nigel replied. “And if I was sure the troops on that dock were Lumar, I might be willing to believe they’d honor it. MinSha, too, although I’d want them to violate the truce so we could wipe them out. However, I heard a transmission say there are also Goka about, and those little fuckers I don’t trust at all. If they’re there, those little psychopaths will attack us, and the little roaches will continue to do so until we exterminate them.”
“Oh. That makes sense, sir.” Guido called the other shuttle and coordinated the landing.
“I’ll be in the back,” Nigel said to the pilot. “Let me know when w
e’re going in.”
Nigel worked his way to the back and addressed his troops. “We’re going to take a second dock. This one is a little smaller, but the ship there is important for psychological reasons—it’s Peepo’s yacht.”
“Is it going to be guarded?” one of the troopers asked.
“If it was your yacht, and you had access to nearly every mercenary in the galaxy, would you leave it unguarded?” The trooper didn’t reply. “I wouldn’t, either. I expect there will be Goka onboard this dock, and we’ll have to kill them all. We are going to come in from the top of the Bravo Arm, while Second Platoon comes in from underneath us at the same time. If you see the Goka, sing out. For those of you who are new, they are nearly perfect killing machines. They look like giant cockroaches, and their shells are laser-reflective. Pop your sword blades and wait for them, rather than wasting your lasers. A MAC will punch through their shells, but it has to be a solid hit—glancing blows often skip off. They won’t stop until they’re all dead, and they will neither ask for nor grant quarter. Kill them fast and make sure they’re dead. Any questions?”
“Good,” he added when he saw there weren’t any. “It’s time to kill aliens and get paid.”
The red light began flashing as the troopers roared their approval, and the ramp started down. “Ten seconds to touchdown,” the pilot said.
“Here we go,” Nigel said as the dropship touched down with a thunk, and the craft’s magnetic locks engaged. The flashing light went green. “Let’s go!” Nigel yelled at the same time as the platoon sergeant and several of the individual squad leaders.
Just like before, the platoon raced out onto the station and took up positions defending the dropship. Nigel walked to the edge of the dock and looked over; troopers were coming from that direction, too, so the other dropship was down.
Two of the airlocks had already been breached, he saw as he came back from the edge, and First Squad was entering the dock. He queued up and dropped down into the facility as a black stain could be seen spreading at the end of the arm where it joined with the administration offices on the facility. He bumped up the enhancement and saw the force consisted of a combination of Tortantulas and Goka. He hated them both.
“Here they come!” he announced. “Goka and Tortantulas. Lasers on the Torts, MACs on Gokas. Weapons free! Fire at will!” Several missiles arced down the passageway from the one missileer as Nigel locked his laser rifle to the leg mount of his suit. The sword blade on his arm snapped out as he took aim with the MAC mounted on his arm.
Had there been air, the passageway would have been deafening; instead, it was nothing more than a slaughterhouse. Several of his men were hit by the lasers mounted on some of the Tortantulas, but nothing critical, and most of the enemy were eliminated as they advanced. One Tortantula limped up to the Asbaran firing line; Nigel dispatched it with a MAC round through its head.
Then the Goka were upon them, and it was down to sword blades and knives for a few seconds. Only four or five of the Goka made it to them, though, and they were all put down. A few more minor wounds and suits that would need maintenance, but no critical injuries or damage to suits. “Set up a perimeter to keep any additional bugs out,” he told his platoon sergeant as Sergeant Epard, their medic, began treating the wounded. “I want to take a quick look at the yacht.”
He walked down the gangway and into the modified corvette. As he had expected, the ship had been gutted and rebuilt, nearly from scratch. It was magnificent, and as opulent as anything he’d ever seen.
He smiled. It would make a wonderful gift for Alexis.
* * * * *
Chapter Fourteen
EMS Arion, Plugy’s Star
“What the hell is going on in there, Frank?” Walker asked over the comms system. The captain of the Arion had gone to maximum acceleration prior to jumping to hyperspace and had stayed that way for almost an hour. When they transitioned back into normal space in the Plugy’s Star system, they were going considerably faster than their target and had caught up quickly. Everything seemed normal, until they were almost in weapons range…at which point, their target had turned, and the multi-segmented doors on its bow had opened like the petals of a flower, exposing its particle accelerator cannon. The weapon was already glowing as the super-dense metal was preheated to reduce the stress of firing it.
Captain Teenge had immediately turned Arion away from the ship, not wanting to risk taking a shot from the cannon. Arion had a 40-terawatt particle accelerator cannon of its own, so she was familiar with the other ship’s armament…and she didn’t want to get hit with it. That opinion was seconded by the rest of the crew, and Walker in particular. Still, it didn’t help him get any closer to completing his mission.
“We’re kind of at a stalemate at the moment,” Earl replied. “Apparently, when we started cutting into the ship, the AI onboard decided we were the enemy, and it has been trying to kill us ever since. It’s got to have some sort of mini-manufactory, because we’ve killed a ton of its damn robots, but no matter how many we kill, it’s still got more.”
“I’m sorry,” Walker replied. “I thought you said ‘AI,’ as in, ‘artificial intelligence.’”
“I did. Dr. Sato thinks the ship has an AI. Whether it is an AI or not doesn’t matter. The computer onboard has decided we are the enemy, and it has thrown a collection of robots at us.”
“Well, it obviously remembers we were part of your group, too,” Walker replied. “When we started getting close to the ship, it turned and aimed its big-ass cannon at us. The captain here is refusing to get into range of that weapon…and honestly, I can’t blame her.”
“Well, you guys are going to have to do something. We’re stuck. Without additional forces, we can’t go any further aft than Deck Five.”
Captain Teenge turned to Walker. “You’re going to have to go get him. If that ship has an artificial intelligence, there is no telling where it is going or what it is doing.”
“That ship hasn’t been active in thousands of years,” Walker replied. “Tens of thousands. Hell, it may not have been active since the Great War. If that’s the case, the AI probably thinks we’re still at war and it’s on some sort of attack mission. The records are so fragmented from then, there’s no telling what it’s planning…but we can’t let it do it.”
“We’re going to have to stop it,” Captain Teenge agreed. “We are responsible for activating it, and we will be held responsible for anything it does. If Sato can’t convince it to stand down, we’re going to have to destroy it, and I do not relish going up against that ship, especially if its weapons are AI-controlled.”
“We could have Earl destroy it, but he didn’t take his demolitions stuff with him. He’s only got breaching charges as we thought we’d be able to send it over later if he needed it. There’s no way we could have planned for this type of response.”
“I don’t want to go within weapons range of the ship unless absolutely necessary. You’re going to have to go get his unit and Sato off the ship in any event; I suggest you take along the demolitions required to destroy it when you go. Whether we blow it up or not, you’re still going to have to go over there and get our people back.”
Walker nodded once, slowly. “I know,” he said after a moment’s thought. “But it isn’t going to be easy.”
* * *
Strike Fighter Squadron One Ready Room, EMS Arion, Plugy’s Star
“The bottom line,” Lieutenant Colonel Walker said after explaining the situation to the assembled pilots, “is that we have to go and get the people off the target ship.” Walker looked around the large conference room the squadron had claimed as their ready room.
“Okay,” Willt said, “so let’s go get them. That should be easy enough. Thorb and Klarb have already made the trip over to it once.”
“The problem is we don’t know what the ship’s response is going to be to our presence. We know it won’t allow the Arion to get close, so it’s possible—probable, really—th
at it will have the same response to the bombers bringing over more people.”
“Still,” Thorb said, “we have to go get the Bees and Sato, or at least give them the ability to destroy the ship. It is something the herd needs; therefore, it is something worth doing. I am ‘in.’”
“Wait,” Walker said. “‘The herd?’”
“The group, the colony…whatever you consider all of you Humans to be. We are now part of your herd. Your fate is our fate. If the Merc Guild destroys you, they will destroy us for helping you soon after. When the grahp comes, the warriors swim out to meet it, because the survival of the herd demands it. Your herd—our herd—demands we fly over to the ship to save the people and destroy the ship before it does something detrimental to the herd. I am ready to do my part to stop it.”
“Well, we’re going to need our best pilots for this one, especially if we come under fire. We will do this with the cockpit flooded; if you need to pull 20 Gs to keep us safe, then pull 20 Gs.”
“Won’t that be harmful to the suited soldiers we will be carrying?”
“We should be okay,” Walker said. “We’ll certainly be better than if you don’t pull 20 Gs and let a laser or missile hit us. That would be worse. Yes, we’ll probably lose consciousness if you exceed eight or nine Gs, but it’s better to be unconscious than the alternative, which is to not to wake up at all.”
“I agree,” Thorb said, nodding once in acknowledgment. “I will do my best.”
“I need three more pilots to man the Avengers,” Walker said. “Who else will do it?” His eyes widened at the response—all nine SalSha raised their paws to be on the mission.
“I told you,” Thorb said. “We are ready to do whatever the herd needs.”
* * *
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