“Had to evade a target lock by the PDS in orbit. Looks like we’re clear. The infiltrator mode should stop them picking us up again.”
“What’s the situation up in orbit?," asked Felix.
“The authorities have rumbled the lads. They’re hiding out in some bar near the docking platform. I told them to wait for us and then make a run for it when we dock.”
The ship shook as if hit by a giant invisible hand. Felix was glad he was still in his couch. “What was that?”
“Plasma cannon from the PDS. Just clipped us though. We’re OK,” said Logan, interrogating his AI.
“I thought you said they wouldn’t be able to see us," complained Crystal.
“I said they shouldn’t be able to see us," responded Logan, a note of defensiveness creeping into his voice. “The Ion drive isn’t really meant to be used in atmosphere. We’re probably leaking ion particles which the PDS can track. I’ll activate the AG."
His AI reported a message coming in from Tarquin.
“We need you here five minutes ago." Even Tarquin’s AI generated image of himself looked flustered.
“I’m doing the best I can. Where are you?”
“Storage locker near the docking platforms. It won’t be long until they track us down."
Logan sent him co-ordinates. “Meet us here."
“When?”
“Now." Logan’s interface with the ship’s AI told him they’d just reached the 300 kilometer minimum safe distance from the planet. He engaged the Slipdrive.
◊
Two 20 meter long disrupter cannons slid out of their hidden sheaths and targeted the PDS station 3,000 kilometers below the huge Valkyrie. Unknown to the galaxy at large and in fact, even to other Areopagite factions, the cannons were capable of disrupting even the most powerful field, having been developed in secret by teams of scientists on Princess Gabriella’s home planet, Makon. Other panels on either side of the huge cannons slid aside revealing numerous slipmissile batteries.
The disrupter cannons fired first, disabling the powerful field surrounding the PDS. 120 slipmissiles leapt from their cradles, hurtling towards the station before disappearing into nospace. They re-emerged 20 kilometers from the now field less station, their tiny artificial brains filled with instructions to incapacitate all weapons, field generative installations, communication arrays, and attendant military ships.
Traveling at 100 kilometers per second, they took barely a fifth of a second to reach their target. The beleaguered AI of the Planetary Defense Station had only just enough time to target some of the slipmissiles and launch countermeasures before the first of the missiles struck. The huge station rocked as it was slammed by multiple impacts. Weapon batteries disappeared in exploding clouds of debris. Emergency decompression doors slammed shut as the AI reported massive field failure. Some unlucky personnel were sucked out before the emergency doors could close, dragged out of the gaping holes in the PDS’s hull. Three frigates, two making their way into higher orbits and one still docked with the station, were also struck, detonating with an impressive pyrotechnic display.
The AI took a picosecond to review its options. They were depressingly few. It ignited its maneuvering thrusters, making for the next closest PDS in geosynchronous orbit. Its communications were out but it would only be a matter of time before the other stations responded. At its current velocity, it would be in range of the closest station in 20 minutes. Not long at all, it thought optimistically.
What remaining sensors it still possessed reported another launch of slipmissiles from the hostile craft. It watched dismayed and impotent as the missiles systematically destroyed all thruster nozzles dotted around the station, taking out engine generators for good measure.
The station continued to coast along regardless, now totally unable to control its vector. The AI reconsidered its options, not that it had any, and ran predictions on what the aggressors were likely to do now. They were obviously softening the station up. If they had wanted to destroy it, they could have by now. It briefed its commanders and readied its defenses for internal assault.
◊
Knights Captain Tynan jerked to his feet when the first explosions shook the station. The lights dimmed, went out and then dimmed again as the backup power supply came on line. A shrill alarm started and he could hear feet pounding outside his tiny cell as the crew made for their emergency stations.
He’d been in the cell for another couple of hours since his interrogation by various members of Gitane’s upper echelon security. He’d told them everything he knew about the Overdrive, holding nothing back. Personal well being was Tynan’s chief motivation. His own and no-one else’s. He just prayed that Gabriella wouldn’t find out. He’d been in the process of brokering a deal to ensure just that when the security team had left. They’d given him no explanations, just walked out, sealing the door behind them. That was five minutes ago.
The station had stopped reverberating. It seemed the attack, or whatever it was, was over. Tynan cautiously approached the door and ordered his AI to activate a Burglar program. The cell door immediately slid open.
That was easy, he thought. He cautiously poked his head out into the corridor. No guards either. Very strange. He slid out of the cell and slowly made his way down the corridor. His AI requested a layout of the level he was on. Glowing red dots overlaid the diagram, indicating lift access.
The alarm was still blaring out in a high pitched wail as he made his way down the corridor in the direction shown by his AI. Scurrying figures could be seen down at one end of the corridor. He went back the other way, hoping to avoid anymore contact with Gitanian security. By the looks of things, they had more serious matters on their minds.
At the end of the corridor, he found an AG lift. His AI reported that it could take him down to the lowest level where the docking bays were. Once there, all he had to do was find a ship to get him off and take him to the nearest Areopagite controlled planet. He’d think of what he’d say to Gabriella by way of explanation later. Much later. It was far too scary a thought to contemplate just now.
◊
The Blazing Trumpet used its Ion thrusters to match velocity with the beleaguered PDS station 300 meters away. A hull panel facing the station slid open. Figures surrounded by glowing blue fields flowed out of the ship and moved rapidly towards the station with powerful beats of their wings. The wings were just for show and had absolutely no affect on their actual movement. The same field that protected them from the harsh vacuum of space could be focused to propel them even in conditions lacking an atmosphere.
The battalion of ninth order, or common Angels, were Gabriella’s shock troops. Like all Angels, they were immune to vacuum and their weak fields were capable of deflecting projectile weapons and low level plasma blasts, effectively making them perfect Space assault troops. As common Angels, they were part of the 3rd and lowest Hierarchy of Angels. Along with Hayyoth, ministering, and guardian Angels, they formed the largest Angelic group in Areopagite and Watcher societies.
Led by Sammael himself, the Angels quickly closed the gap between the two hulking ships, quickly landing and taking up positions on the huge docking platform. A number of cargo freighters were still docked, umbilical's, docking clamps and air locks still attached. Several showed signs of the recent battle; scorch marks and ripped hulls venting a variety of gases.
Sammael issued his orders. Squads of Angels hacked at various air locks attached to the ships, ensuring that no one would be able to access them without a suit. After waiting for the immediate explosive venting of gases, the Angels forced themselves into the airlocks and began attacking the inner doors.
In addition to their energized swords, the assault Angels were all armed with plasma cannons. Sammael moved into the nearest airlock and could see the tell tale glow of plasma blasts as the Angels in front of him encountered Gitanian security guards in full space combat armor.
He ordered his AI to open a link with Gabriella.
> “We’re in," he said when Gabriella’s beautiful AI generated face appeared. She appeared to nod.
“Good. Don’t depressurize the whole ship Sammael," she warned. “I need those hostages alive."
“Yes Princess."
Gabriella smiled. “Oh, and just to make it interesting, you’ve only got 40 minutes to secure them. Even though we’ve taken out the thrusters, this station will be in range of the next closest by then. We took this station by surprise; the next PDS we encounter will be ready for us.”
He nodded his accent. “What’s the status of the Watcher ship?”
“They’re still holding station 5,000 kilometers from us. I’ll let you know if there are any further developments.”
She cut the link and Sammael’s eye lid flicked open. He pushed aside the floating body of a dead Gitanian security guard and moved further into the station.
◊
A small, localized piece of space on the planetary side of the PDS ripped open. The very fabric of space was torn apart to allow a small and sleek looking starship to emerge. The grey of nospace gradually disappeared as the fracture slowly closed behind it.
The PDS eyed it with weary resignation. Its one remaining sensor on the planet’s near side reported the spatial rift and appearance of the small warship. It was ridiculously close, having emerged right on the 300 km minimum distance. It gave the equivalent of a mental shrug and dismissed it as being unimportant. It had other things to worry about. Like the battalion of assault Angels currently forcing its way into the station and systematically decimating the defending security squads.
The Puritan reactivated its infiltrator mode and disappeared off the PDS’s sensors. It used its small thrusters to align itself with the out of control station before moving in and settling onto a vacant docking cradle. Logan used his AI to order the ship to extend its field out to one of the station’s nearby air lock hatches.
He stood up and moved through into the ship’s lounge. The other’s eyed him with expectant expressions.
“Well?," queried Crystal.
“Tarquin and the others are still holed up in a storage locker. The station is rapidly losing pressure and their route to us is cut off by Angels assaulting the ship. We’ll have to go and get them.”
Crystal nodded. “I’m coming with you.”
“I’d hoped you’d say that.”
“What about the rest of us?” asked Felix.
“Stay with the ship and make sure no one else gets on board. We should be back shortly.”
He headed for the lower decks and entered the armory, ordering one of the bulky silver assault suits to come on line and open. He was beginning to select weapons from the racks above him when Crystal came in.
“Do you need a hand?” she asked.
Logan shook his head. “Help yourself to whatever you need. It could get rough in there.”
Crystal smiled and patted the sword belted to her waist. “I’ve got all I need right here.”
Logan threw a bundle of universal vacuum suits at her.
“Well, make yourself useful and carry these," he said grinning. “I’m going to have my hands full."
He backed into the assault armor and ordered it to close, using his AI to interface with the suits and bringing its weapon and power systems on line. He picked up a plasma cannon and clipped on various cylinders and projectiles to the suits utility belt. The helmet fully covered his head making it impossible for him to be heard. He opened a link to Crystal.
“Ready?”
She nodded and the two of them moved upstairs to where the lounge airlock was situated.
Crystal gave Felix a kiss and then moved into the airlock with Logan. He waved as the airlock cycled shut.
The other side of the airlock opened, revealing the docking platform covered by a glowing blue field. The area was fairly well lit from the planet’s glow beneath them.
Crystal activated her field, drawing her sword as she took the lead. She tucked the vacuum suits into her belt as they were less likely to impede her there.
With Logan right behind her, she reached the airlock. Her AI couldn’t establish a link with the station’s so she had to use the manual lever on the airlock door. It slowly opened to reveal a smiling winged figure surrounded by a glowing blue field.
“Hello," said Sammael.
Chapter Ten
On the bridge of the class 1 Trireme, The Sweet Bejesus, Asel watched the events unfolding in Gitane’s orbit with some interest. Since orchestrating the destruction of Knights Captain Tynan ship, he’d done nothing but watch. There was nothing else to do. If he involved himself and his ship now then he’d have nothing up his sleeve for later. Even a class 1 Trireme was no match for either Gabriella’s Valkyrie or a fully armed PDS station. He knew the outcome of this encounter would be decided by those who kept something in reserve.
He examined the screens before him. One gave him an AI tactical analysis; ships and stations represented by various icons with vector lines with annotated notes attached. A countdown in the bottom of the screen gave Gabriella 30 minutes until she was in range of another PDS. He smiled bleakly. With any luck, they would wipe each other out.
The other screen displayed a real time image of the current battle between the Valkyrie and the huge PDS station. Close ups from sensors on the ships hull revealed armed Angels infiltrating the station. Not without loss he noted. He’d already seen a few charred bodies of Angels float away from the besieged station, injuries consistent with those caused by heavy plasma cannons.
Despite these losses, the end result was not in doubt. The Areopagites would take the station and with that, the Overdrive. Of that Asel was sure. He was just hoping that Gabriella and her Valkyrie would be significantly weakened afterwards, enabling him to take her ship just as easily as she’d taken the PDS.
The odds still weren’t stacked in his favor though. He ordered his AI to open a channel with Gitane’s security network. They might be ignorant about what was happening in orbit now but he could soon remedy that.
◊
Tarquin, Bruce and Walter huddled in a storage locker, listening to the sounds of combat just outside. Walter flinched every time a nearby plasma cannon let off its tell tale roar. Bruce squatted on the floor, the Overdrive gripped tightly in one huge paw. Occasionally he’d grimace and rub his charred arm. Tarquin felt sorry for anyone who barged in here uninvited – the Transplanter was not in a good mood. All three were breathing heavily, a result of the station’s slow pressure loss.
The lack of air was becoming a problem. He was still confident that the air would last for a while yet; they just had to be careful not to exert themselves. That in itself wasn’t a problem; he was doing anything but exerting himself.
He tried to find himself a more comfortable position on the floor, inadvertently nudging the Gorilla and receiving a low, threatening growl for his trouble. He’d spoken to Logan a few minutes previously who had assured them that he and Crystal were only a few minutes away. Knowing Logan, that was probably a tad optimistic. He remembered the former military intelligence man turning up 2 days late on one occasion after initially saying that he’d meet Tarquin and some friends in half an hour. From that day on, both Tarquin and Felix got into the habit of telling Logan that a scheduled event was actually an hour before it really was. Even then he was usually late.
Hardly life and death situations though – unlike now - although he did recall a situation involving too many mind altering substances, a realskin mech pleasure doll and a transplanter dog named Sarge. Thankfully, Logan had turned up on time then.
He smiled to himself at the memory, and then bored, contemplated another look out into the corridor. When the fighting had first broken out, Tarquin had risked a peek. He’d seen two Angels, blue nimbus’s aglow, charge a squad of heavily armed Gitanians. The resulting conflict had seen both parties annihilate each other, dropping the ceiling down on top of them and effectively blocking the corridor.
Ta
rquin had accessed the PDS floor plan, realizing that their escape route to the docking platforms was now blocked by debris. Their only hope now was for Logan and Crystal to clear a path for them.
Tarquin had snuck out and liberated one of the plasma cannons from the dead grasp of one of the Gitanians. That at least was something. They could defend themselves if anyone else chanced upon the storage locker. With a sigh, he settled himself more comfortably on the floor of the locker.
“Anyone for cards?” suggested Walter hopefully.
◊
Sammael brought his sword up just in time to block the blow from the other weapon, barely avoiding losing his nose in the process. His sword broke with a loud metallic twang, despite being made of a reported unbreakable composite, the fragments flying away to shatter against the airlock wall. Crystal expanded her field, flinging him into the massed bodies of Angels behind him. The whole group collapsed, forming a chaotic sprawl of limbs on the airlock floor.
“Anyone else?," Crystal inquired mildly, raising her eyebrows playfully.
From his position on the ground, Sammael gave her a frightened glance. A faint whimper issued from his slack jaw. With a yelp, he threw the other Angels aside and fled. Somewhat bewildered, the rest of the Angels followed suit.
Crystal turned and gave Logan a wink.
“Nice one," said Logan through his AI. “Scratch the surface and beneath every bully lies a complete wimp."
“Not a problem," replied Crystal.
As a matter of fact it hadn’t been. Crystal had known exactly who she was facing when confronted by Sammael at the airlock. The Church of the Holy Lamb had built up extensive files on Areopagite Angels with any influence thanks to spies inserted into the religious hierarchical structure. The files included information about various Angel’s rank, strength, peccadilloes and even their current bed chums.
Sammael was known as Gabriella’s sometimes bedmate and chief enforcer with a strong sadistic streak and a cunning, opportunist mind. Even though he was only a sixth order Angel and as such, hopelessly outmatched by Crystal, the Areopagite hierarchy saw great things for Sammael. He’d been earmarked (presumably by Gabriella herself) for advancement although his current status and abilities were far less than what his ego demanded. She hadn’t even exerted herself. Only an Afer or a heavy plasma cannon emplacement (such as those employed by starships) could affect her and both were unlikely to be encountered within the PDS station.
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