by SD Tanner
“Elongate the front line. Make a hole! Draw them in!”
The first two hundred assault ships opened fire with a missile. “Evade!”
The front line of their grid pulled left and right, avoiding the fire. “Return to position!”
It was a test to see what they would do. Instead of launching at the incoming wall, Scorpions had split away then returned to their original position. Waiting nervously for the assault ships to get closer, he finally understood why generals wanted to see the whites of their enemy’s eyes. “Hold position!”
The assault ships broke into groups of three, each targeting a Scorpion at the front of his line. Falling into a formation of two in the front and one on their six, they sped up, firing at their targets. His silver arrow shaped Scorpions held their position, twisting left and right, up and down. The weapons fire was disappearing past them, narrowly missing each one. More squads of three assault ships began peeling away from the wall, targeting Scorpions further along his front line. He wanted to return fire, but it was more important he draw the Navigator fleet deeper inside of the grid.
“Evade. Do not return fire.”
Scorpions were fast and maneuverable. To his left, he watched one dance, flipping up, down and over, avoiding the lethal weapons fire. His front line was under major attack, but they were dancing as if someone was shooting at their feet. The tactic was frustrating the Navigator pilots, making them draw closer to their targets. Weapons fire was cutting so close to his Scorpions that light was reflecting on the silver, winking in all directions. Two of the front line Scorpions failed to move fast enough. One was clipped, making it tilt oddly before ceasing to move. The other took a direct hit, exploding instantly.
“Hold your fire.”
His hands were gripping the arms of his chair so hard he thought they might break. The remains of the destroyed Scorpion were already drifting apart, making it clear no one had survived. If his tactic was wrong then he’d just witnessed the first of many losses. Navigators were growing bolder. Twenty teams pulled away from their main battle formation, zipping into the space left by the two lost ships. Once they were allowed inside of his grid, they grew even braver, sending another twenty squads forward. In his mind, he was chanting, bring it on, bring it on, bring it on. The more assault ships he could draw into his line, the fewer they would have in reserve.
Perhaps Tank had succeeded in chasing Ark Command out of range. Suddenly all of the Navigator assault ships drove forward, clearly intending to break up his front line.
He wanted to cheer, but instead he said, “Fire at will.”
Scorpions in the middle of the front line were pulling back, firing at the assault ships, tempting them to follow. Where the Navigator assault ships had planned to surround a lone Scorpion, now they were being circled. Caught between their target Scorpion and three more, the Navigator ships tried driving between them. Had they been experienced, they might have kept two in the front and one at the rear, but instead they zipped away in different directions. Caught inside of his net, there was nowhere to run. One Navigator ship against a Scorpion was no contest.
A Scorpion in front of him was firing down on a lone assault ship. It pulled back, desperately looking for somewhere to retreat, but the grid was closing around it. Two more Scorpions spun towards it, narrowly missing its hull as they fired down at the two pilots sitting one behind the other. The Navigators were dead before they had time to eject and the assault ship began drifting. Another dogfight was happening to the left of the drifting assault ship. Three Scorpions were circling a single assault ship. Two more assault ships came to its aid, only to find three more Scorpions joining the fight. His ships were faster, flickering as they dove left and right. His pilots were buried inside the gut of a Scorpion whereas the assault ships had their pilots exposed at the top. It was a critical design error. Instead of firing on the assault ship, his troops were killing the pilots.
Hundreds of small dogfights were happening around him. “Center mass. Controlled retreat.”
By rolling back the middle of the grid, he was drawing the Navigator assault ships deeper inside of his battlefield. Now all he had to do was surround them, leaving them nowhere to run. “Left and right flank, move forward.”
The Scorpions on the edges of the grid moved forward, effectively shifting the battlefield. Without moving, the Navigators were now in the middle of his fleet, surrounded on every side. In front and to his left and right, assault ships were taking fire from his Scorpions. Some were getting shots back, but more of their ships were drifting without pilots.
Reaching out his hand, he used it to zoom in on debris drifting near the ships. The image of a Navigator in full battle gear filled a small sub screen inside of the Battle Deck hologram. He or she was drifting with their head appearing to point downwards, but he didn’t have the sensors to know whether they were dead. Although he’d told Tank they would take no prisoners, he couldn’t leave them slowly starving in space. It might have been what Dunk Two did to his troops, but that didn’t make it right.
“All ships. Pick up survivors.”
Even as he said it, a Scorpion was already extending a robot arm, hooking the Navigator. He couldn’t waste time bringing the survivors back to their BattleRigs, and it was unlikely they would survive being thrown around by a Scorpion. There was even a good chance they’d be shot by their own ships.
His grid was now shaped like a circle with a wide hole at one end. Navigator ships were gradually being folded inside of his fleet. His tactic had been noticed. Assault ships were scattering within the circle, looking for a way out.
“Close the loop!”
On his command, a deep layer of Scorpions sealed the exit to the circle. Opening the emergency channel usually reserved for Navigators, he said, “This is Ark Three to Navigator fleet. You are surrounded and it’s more than a fair fight. You have the option to surrender.”
Navigators were ordered to fight to the death, so his offer was a pointless one. He was only making it in the faint hope he could save his own fleet, but it was not to be. Navigator ships were pulling into one another, forming a tight cluster of a thousand ships. Their only chance of escaping his grid was to attack from as many angles as they could. Any moment now, they would explode outward, using the element of surprise to get past the Scorpions.
“Stand ready. They’re coming out.”
Scorpions zipped closer to one another, narrowing the gap between them. They would catch any ship trying to make its way through. Just as he expected, the thousand assault ships erupted in every direction, flying fast and shooting wildly. Scorpions were taking fire, but it was almost random.
“Hold position. Return fire. Do not let them pass.”
He didn’t want to slaughter the trapped assault ships, but Casey needed to know she couldn’t simply throw an overwhelming force at them. If she wanted to win a battle against him, she would need to lift her game. Today would be a massacre, but not of his people.
Although he was near the back of the battlefield, the fight finally reached him. Several Navigator assault ships were headed directly for his position, firing at them. “Evade, but stay close to position.”
Even with gravity and flywheel absorbers compensating for the spin, he was thrown left and right, up and down. Being in the center of the ship, the effect was minimized on the Battle Deck, but he still gripped the sides of his chair. “Return fire.”
Several missiles were locked onto their ship. Reaching for the control panel on the screens, he zoomed in on one. Tapping the navigation system, the nanobytes began tracking the missiles tailing them. If the bombs hit then his ship wouldn’t survive. Using the controls, he targeted the missiles with a particle beam. “Go for kill.”
On his order, the cannon fired a stream of pulses, tracking the missiles until it caught them. Exploding before they had a chance to hit, the ship was jerking wildly, avoiding laser fire from assault ships. “Target enemy vessels.”
The closest w
as above them and he felt the ship tipping. Onboard gravity compensated for the move, making him have to look up at the Navigator assault ship above them. It was a typically ugly ship, oddly shaped and a murky brown color. Tapping the controls, he set it as a target, firing as he did. The particle beam pulses cut through the cockpit where the Navigators would have been sitting. They wouldn’t have survived.
As he was dealing with the ship passing above them, his Weapons specialist was firing at a ship pulling away from them. Tipping to his right, the ship compensated so he again thought he was upright when he wasn’t. The center of the Scorpion grid had disintegrated into a collection of dogfights with ships firing at one another. In the background, he could hear the constant chatter between the squads as they worked together wiping out the assault ships. Just as he’d predicted, in siphoning and trapping most of the Navigator fleet, they were equally matched.
More ships, his own Scorpions included, were drifting in space. It was then that he realized he’d forgotten a squad formation. He should have assigned some to pick up the survivors. Bombardiers and Navigators were floating through space, almost indistinguishable from the debris around them.
Inwardly cursing, he said, “All squads. Assign one ship to collect survivors. Ours first, enemy second.”
His order was relayed across the ships. Some immediately broke off their engagement, now chasing their own people. While his Weapons and Navigation specialist continued moving his ship across the back of the battlefield, he was about to order them forward when a light pulsed on his visor screen.
“Mayday. Mayday. Mayday.”
Using his sensors, he flicked through the screens on his visor, hunting for the source of the call. It could be a trick. Before he could find the answer, the Communications specialist on the lead BattleRig spoke. “It’s Tracha. They’re under attack.”
“By whom?”
“I don’t know, but they need help.”
Scanning the screen around him, the dogfights were thinning. This was his first space battle and he was expecting a conclusive win. Forming his hand into a fist, he pulled his mouth into a grim line. Victory was his, but he’d never see it.
Wanting to stay and knowing he couldn’t, he barked, “All ships. Retreat. Collect survivors. Lead ship. I’m heading back. Prepare Alpha One for maximum speed to Tracha.”
A collection of complaints could be heard in the background as every pilot questioned his orders. “Tracha is under attack. Send out a squad to find Tank. Tell him to take command.”
Heading to Tracha at maximum speed would take him out of communications range. Tank was still harassing Ark Command, but once they relayed his message he could bring the fleet home. It wasn’t ideal, but he’d made Tracha a promise he wasn’t going to break.
Scorpions were already pulling away from the battlefield, breaking the circle. Navigator ships were zipping through the gaps. Wasting no time, they were flying in small clusters of three and four, making their way back to familiar space. It should have been a definitive win and a defining moment in his war against Dunk Two. Sighing in frustration, he watched while his lead BattleRig came into view.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
Mutually Assured Destruction
(Ark Three)
“Did they send any other message?”
Tiana shook her head. “No, only a call for help.” Worry had taken away the usually steady look in her eyes, making her seem younger than she was. “Do you think they are dead?”
Taking her hand, he leaned closer to her. “If they were dead then they wouldn’t have sent a message.”
She was sitting on the bed in his quarters, getting up one moment only to sit the next. Agitated and anxious, she was nervously jiggling one of her long legs. “Is it your planet? Have they attacked us for being your friends?”
“I doubt it. They haven’t gone that far into deep space.”
“But the robot found your ship.”
“Our ship, Tiana. They’re our ships and I think I know how they did that.” Her brown eyes were still wide with worry and he put his arm around her shoulders. “The navs have chips in their arms. They’re for identification and security. I think Dunk Two has been using them to find us.”
She nodded. “We have seen the chips, but assumed they were disabled. How could he pick up a signal from so far away?”
“I don’t know, but Earth uses visibility pods. It wouldn’t be a stretch to use them to track the chips.”
“How do they appear out of nowhere?”
“I don’t know, but if anyone could develop a type of teleportation it would be Dunk Two.”
“It would not work like that. You must reassemble the atoms at the other end…otherwise all you have is mush.”
Immediately visualizing a pile of steaming and bloodied cells, he screwed up his face. “Lovely.”
His disgusted expression broke through her fears and she smiled at him. “We tried and you need a device…the mush is not good.”
“So, how do you think he’s making them appear?”
“Holes in space.”
“What? Like a wormhole? I didn’t know he was working on that.”
Tilting her head, she arched her eyebrow. “How much did you ever know?”
She was right in that Dunk Two had always run his own agenda. Barely consulting with Dunk Three, he’d told him even less. They were less than a day from Tracha and he was about to leave on one of the Scorpions, scouting ahead of the five BattleRigs. He and Tank had managed to talk before communications failed due to distance. They’d lost no BattleRigs and only two hundred Scorpions in the fight, but the Navigators were down by an estimated one thousand assault ships and forty Battleships. The fight had been his, only it didn’t feel like much of a victory. Tank was pulling the fleet into deep space, consolidating and repairing the damage. Depending upon what he found on Tracha, he would have to decide what to do next. Until he had a full battle report from Tank, he wasn’t completely sure how many fully functioning ships and troops he had left.
Patting Tiana’s hand with his own large one, he stood inside of his small quarters. “I have to go.”
Immediately standing with him, she gave him a surprised look. “I am coming with you.”
“You shouldn’t. We don’t know what’s happened and…you’re not a soldier.”
“I trained with the Navigators.”
Women made up at least half of his troops. Most were Bombardiers, but some were still human and working as Navigators. There was no reason why Tiana couldn’t fly with him to Tracha, but he hesitated, shaking his head. “It’s not the same as having been through the Academy.”
Her brown eyes flashed with a rarely seen anger. “Do not…” Struggling to find the words, she almost spat them out when she did. “Think I am less than you.”
“Woah, I’m not saying that. I just don’t think you’re battle-trained.”
Making her way towards the door, she paused before walking out. “I need to find my father.”
Just mentioning her father was enough for him to know she wouldn’t change her mind. Sighing, he placed his hand in the small of her back, guiding her through the door. “Fine, but you fly with me.”
In the faster Scorpions, it only took them nine hours to reach Tracha. Slowing to a crawl, he studied the silver orb from space, still unsure what had gone wrong. Where he’d expected to see signs of a battle, the planet looked the same as when he’d left it. Silver buildings bulged out from the shining surface, but there was no sign of the small craft that usually flew between them.
“Looks peaceful.”
“They will be underground,” Tiana replied.
He’d only brought ten Scorpions with him, which meant he was in no position to engage with an enemy, assuming he could find one. With a population of only two thousand, there was no way Tracha could defend itself without the Bombardier Army, making him wonder if they’d been overrun and were already occupied.
“Do you think they’ve fallen?�
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“No.”
“Why?”
“They would destroy the planet.”
“How?”
“We can self-destruct.” When he gave her a surprised look, she shrugged. “We lined the city with bombs a long time ago. It was the only way to make everyone stop fighting.”
No one had told him Tracha could destroy itself, but he supposed it was one way of keeping everyone on the same page. Harrumphing softly, he replied, “Once we’ve sorted this then we’re gonna have to talk about that.”
Below him and lying flat against the silver surface was an entrance to one of the main loading bays. Underneath the silver doors should be a large brightly lit cavern where ships were constructed, repaired and loaded with weapons. Usually the bay would be open, revealing a hub of activity with people moving around the ships. Since taking the fleet into space, the bay would be empty, meaning there was no reason for the doors to be open. To the side of the enormous flat doors were several secondary hatches. One of them caught his attention. The solid silver door was open, leaving a two-foot gap.
“Secondary hatch is open.”
“I see it.”
A door being left open wouldn’t normally mean much, but Trachans spent very little time on the surface. There wasn’t anything to see or do, so they lived in the artificial city buried deep inside of the planet. Although from above Tracha had a silver surface, once inside of the buried city it was hard to detect that the sky inside of it was really a roof. The Trachan’s had replicated the blueness of a perfect day. A wide river of crystal-clear water wound its way through the city, surrounded by grass and trees. After the war, most of their animal life had been wiped out. To compensate for the loss, the nanobytes had created mechanical versions of birds and small animals, adding to the feeling that the city was aboveground. Where Bombardiers were mostly composed of an exoskeleton, Trachan’s were made up of mechanical parts. It meant there wasn’t much on Tracha that was biologically based.