Fire Flare

by Chris Ward

  ‘We can sit here and wait to die or we can go in there in full attack mode ready to take out any punks who come for us,’ Paul said. ‘We’ll send out a transmission for the general, but more likely he’ll see our blazing cannons. We are armed, aren’t we?’

  ‘To about eighty-percent capacity,’ Harlan5 said. ‘Thanks to Mr. Flint.’

  ‘Is that good?’

  ‘About the best it’s ever been,’ Caladan said. ‘However, your plan is ridiculous.’

  ‘Do you have a better one?’

  ‘We have enough supplies on board, so we can just sit here and monitor the planet for a while,’ Beth said. ‘Watch who’s going in and out.’

  ‘Until someone picks up our electrical inference on a scan, and then … boom.’ Paul clapped his hands together, making Caladan, who had been picking his nose, flinch.

  ‘You damn fool. We should have left you on Docrem2.’

  ‘Well, what do you suggest, great space pilot?’

  Teer Flint lifted a hand.

  ‘The toilet’s down the hall,’ Paul said. ‘Do spiders use toilets?’

  ‘Give him a break,’ Beth said, slapping Paul’s shoulder. ‘Teer, you have an idea?’

  Teer Flint sneered at Paul, then tapped a nail against his computer terminal. ‘Why not launch a reconnaissance droid? You have three. Send it down to the surface with its signals turned up, and see if anything comes back. It probably won’t make it back out, but if there are any encrypted mayday signals coming off the moon’s surface, it’ll be able to pick them up.’

  ‘The rec-droids don’t work,’ Caladan said. ‘I don’t think they’ve ever worked.’

  Teer Flint wrinkled his brow. ‘They do now. I fixed them. You asked for your ship to be serviced, did you not?’

  ‘Robot, did you know those droids were fixed?’ Caladan asked.

  Harlan5 nodded. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Why didn’t you say?’

  ‘I was not consulted on the matter.’

  Caladan rolled his eyes. ‘Well, what do you think? Is it a good idea or not?’

  ‘With all due respect, I think it is a significantly better idea than those of Little Buck or Miss Beth.’

  Paul rolled his eyes. ‘I’m starting to reconsider you as a gunslinger, droid.’

  Caladan ignored him and turned to Teer Flint. ‘You’re promoted, if we have such a system. Tell me once more how it’ll work, and then let’s do it. The sooner we can get into that hellhole and get out, the better.’

  They watched through the view-screens as the tiny dot exited the Matilda’s hull and blasted out through space, a little rocket propulsion unit firing it towards the moon’s surface.

  ‘And it’ll send back any transmissions it picks up?’ Caladan said, turning to Harlan5.

  ‘It already is,’ Harlan5 said. ‘It’s sending back transmissions its sensors pick up into the ship’s log, where they’re being stored. So far, most of what we’ve got is old transmissions that have been bouncing around space for hundreds of Earth-years.’

  ‘Are they not already picked up by the ship?’

  Harlan5 shook his head. ‘The Matilda has filters. Certain devices send transmissions which, once sent, float around space forever. If the ship collected them all, her databases would be overwhelmed in minutes. In general, the ship’s settings will only pick up those transmissions deemed of strategic importance.’

  Caladan shook his head. ‘Well, you learn something new every day. Can’t we just open them up and see what’s in the air?’

  ‘The Matilda’s receivers are also encrypted,’ Harlan5 said. ‘Otherwise our location would be revealed to any ship within the vicinity.’

  ‘It’s like magic,’ Caladan said.

  Teer Flint grinned at Harlan5 as he stroked the side of his console with two of his black-haired legs. ‘This ship is a remarkable piece of hardware. I’m surprised you don’t take better care of her. So many corners are cut on newer models these days. A ship like this … they don’t make them like it anymore.’

  Caladan sighed. ‘Has that droid landed yet?’

  ‘It will be reaching the lower atmosphere in approximately ten … nine … eight … oh.’

  ‘Oh? Is that some special new number you’ve decided replaces seven?’

  Harlan5 shook his head. ‘I’m afraid we’ve lost the transmission. Something is blocking it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘If I knew that, I would say.’

  ‘Well, can you find out?’

  ‘Those scum,’ Paul muttered.

  Beth leaned over the nearest dashboard and pressed a couple of controls. ‘Look. There’s something coming around in the moon’s orbit. A spacecraft of some kind. But when you try to get a visual, it looks blurred, as though it’s scrambling even the light it’s giving off.’

  One of the view-screens changed as Beth attempted to get a visual on the approaching ship. Several thousand Earth-miles distant, it was still close enough that the external cameras could get a decent view. However, as Beth zoomed in, the ship appeared only as a blur moving against the star field. It was a couple of Earth-miles long, but moving at a gentle speed which made following it easy.

  ‘It’s one of those things that pilot told you about,’ Paul said. ‘A de-transmission ship.’

  Caladan scowled. ‘Robot. More information, please.’

  ‘According to my databases, de-transmission ships are devices that have only been used effectively in space battles by the Shadowmen navy. Rather than simply scrambling transmissions like most systems, they actually absorb them, making it impossible for ships to communicate during a space battle. The navy with the better pre-determined tactics therefore has a distinct advantage.’

  ‘So they’re there just to make life awkward?’

  ‘That’s about it, my programming suggests. If your forces have a clear plan, a de-transmission ship can be advantageous, but they are a hindrance to both sides because neither can communicate. According to data the ship has picked up, General Grogood’s forces were easily defeated simply because they weren’t expecting such a threat. They had separated their fleet into two wings hoping to flank Raylan’s fleet, only to find Raylan’s fleet had anticipated the move and out-flanked them in turn.’

  ‘And that thing is blocking any signal from our droid?’

  ‘Yes. According to the Matilda’s scanners, it is currently operating at a low capacity, filtering out background transmissions and absorbing only those sent within a certain timeframe.’

  ‘It’s blocking any attempts by survivors to call for help,’ Paul said, punching one fist into the other palm. ‘That heinous lump of soiled metal.’

  ‘Which means, to find out what’s going on down on the surface, we either have to destroy it, or get around it?’ Caladan asked Harlan5.

  ‘Yes.’

  Caladan scowled. ‘We can do that.’

  ‘Of course we can,’ Harlan5 said. ‘However, any attempt to destroy that ship will alert Raylan Climlee’s forces to our presence.’

  ‘It’ll already know,’ Teer Flint said. ‘As soon as that droid started to transmit, it would have picked up the transmission path.’

  ‘So it knows we’re here?’

  ‘Most likely.’

  Caladan thumped the dashboard. Paul took out his blaster and looked about to say something heroic, but Caladan’s glare kept him silent. Teer Flint stared at the view-screens. Beth looked down at the dash in front of her and pressed a button.

  ‘Well, that didn’t take long,’ she said. ‘There are two battleships coming around the moon, heading our way. They’re accompanied by a couple of squadrons of fighters. What are we going to do now?’

  11

  Caladan

  ‘Do they definitely know that we’re here?’

  ‘The ship’s sensors don’t know, because that transmission blocker is masking any form of communication.’

  ‘So, those other ships just sit there, waving at each other through the windows?’
>
  ‘My programming suggests that it was likely powered down, but picked up our droid’s transmissions.’

  Caladan winced. ‘So we woke it up?’

  ‘Most likely. My programming would predict that they became aware of some kind of unwanted ship in the area. Before blocking us, that de-transmission ship would have sent word to those battleships, which are now coming to investigate.’ Harlan5 pointed at the screen. ‘Oh, look. I’d definitely say that’s what’s happened.’

  ‘Why? Why? Let’s not be holding back any secrets here. My eyes aren’t as good as your … glowing balls, or whatever they are.’

  ‘A squadron of reconnaissance fighters are heading our way, discharged from the nearest of those battleships.’

  ‘What’s a reconnaissance fighter?’

  ‘I’m afraid my database isn’t complete when it comes to Shadowmen spacecraft; however, from the Matilda’s visual analysis and comparison to other known craft of a similar size and design, my programming would suggest that it is a rather bulky fighter-type loaded with surveillance equipment.’

  ‘In other words, a heavily armed research vessel,’ Beth said.

  ‘Some gun-toting scientist scumbags to blast,’ Paul said. ‘Aim the cannons, robot.’

  ‘Do not aim the cannons!’ Caladan shouted. ‘I’m in command, not this clown. Take us into that orbiter. We’ll hide until they’re gone.’

  ‘Until the general is rotting in a shallow grave,’ Paul said, clapping his hands together. ‘The droid we sent rusts beyond use, and we all die of starvation. Well, except him,’ he said, nodding at Teer Flint. ‘He’ll survive a bit longer after he eats us.’

  ‘My main diet is plant-based,’ Teer Flint said. ‘However, I’d make an exception for you. I imagine your brain is at least part vegetable.’

  Paul made a gun finger at Teer Flint. ‘How many legs do you need to walk?’

  ‘How many brain cells do you need to think?’

  ‘There’s too many fighters,’ Caladan said, ignoring them. ‘We just had the ship repaired.’

  ‘They won’t expect a full frontal attack,’ Paul said, giving one last frown at Teer Flint before turning back to the view-screens. ‘They’ll be thinking we’re bandits or smugglers.’

  ‘Both descriptions fit,’ Caladan said.

  Paul paid no attention. ‘If we swing past that de-transmission ship, they won’t be able to fire without a risk of hitting it. Power up the thrusters to send us down into lower orbit, then see if those assholes can catch us. Want to play cards, Captain? I’m laying a high spade.’

  Caladan frowned, shaking his head. ‘Is that supposed to mean something?’

  ‘I think what he’s trying to say is that if they know we’re here, all they’d have to do is starve us out,’ Beth said. ‘It wouldn’t take much to surround that orbiter with a few fighters and a couple of battleships. We could last a couple of Earth-weeks, but … much as it pains me to admit it, I think Paul’s right.’

  ‘Righter than a goddamn setting sun,’ Paul said.

  Caladan sighed. ‘I should have sneaked off,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘After I knew the ship would fly, I should have left you two with those weird animal things with the long necks.’

  ‘The Bilbing,’ Beth said.

  ‘And those. Whatever. I can’t believe you’re talking me into this.’

  Paul’s jaw set so tight it looked like the reinforced front of a path-maker scything through an asteroid field. He stared at Caladan, and in a voice so deep that Beth frowned and Teer Flint winced, said, ‘I heard you were the best pilot in the known galaxy, Captain. Are you ready to prove it?’

  Caladan scowled. ‘You’re a prick. If we land in a nest of snakes, I’ll make sure you die first.’

  ‘Deal.’

  ‘Power the engines, robot,’ Caladan said, feeling a little tingle of excitement on the back of his neck. He wondered if Paul woke up feeling like this. ‘We fly to battle.’

  ‘Yee-hah!’ Paul shouted. Beth grimaced, giving him a pat on the back like a dog owner trying to calm an excited pet.

  The ship began to shudder as the rear thrusters started up, propelling them forward. ‘Here’s where we see how well you fixed her up, Flint,’ Caladan said.

  Teer Flint narrowed his eyes. ‘You won’t be disappointed. However, as a man sharing many of your cowardly values, may I make a suggestion?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘No matter how good you are at flying this beautiful thing, eventually there will be too many. We need a plan for escape.’ Caladan nodded as Teer Flint outlined his plan. ‘We’re on the same page, you and I,’ he said. ‘Robot, prepare the smoke screens. Send out a couple of those remote droids to adjust the emitters.’

  ‘As you command.’

  On a simulation view-screen above their heads, an image of the Matilda began to shift, transforming from the elongated teardrop she used when travelling through deep space into an eight-armed battle station spinning around a central core. The guns all clicked into place, the rear thrusters charged, and the Matilda, armed to the teeth, raced forward into battle.

  Caladan had been far braver in his youth, back before he lost his left arm in a card game, when he was a reckless young pilot-for-hire. As they flew out to meet the oncoming squadron, keeping the blocky de-transmission ship in between them, he felt an old rush of adrenalin. They had spent so long running and hiding that he had forgotten what it felt like to fly into a space dogfight. Now, as he fired a few warning shots, a couple deflecting off the de-transmission ship’s shields but one flying past and catching a fighter on the wing with a lucky hit, he felt the old thrill. Even as Paul whooped and cheered from the co-pilot’s chair, Caladan, currently maintaining full control of both the thrusters and the guns, saw only the battle through a tunnel, in which he was the sole combatant.

  The slow moving de-transmission ship came up ahead, two Earth-miles of lumpy electrical interference towers and stumpy guns which were easy to avoid. The fighters, far more threatening, had clearly seen them, spreading out into an attack formation, but any threats or warnings coming through were blocked by the ship in between.

  ‘They’re splitting into two groups,’ Beth shouted from where she sat behind a monitor screen. ‘Trying to flank us.’

  ‘Take the guns,’ Caladan said to Paul, switching over the weapons controls to the co-pilot. ‘I’ll keep us alive while you blow the hell out of as many of them as you can.’

  ‘Time to visit Skeeter’s Gate,’ Paul growled, pressing a control on the dashboard which brought up a manual gunner’s joystick out of an opening in the dashboard’s underside. ‘Locked and loaded for maximum destruction.’

  Caladan shook his head. ‘I won’t even ask what you’re on about. Just take out as many of them as you can.’

  The de-transmission ship, only now coming into focus as they saw it in real-time, created an impromptu defensive wall. Caladan took them in as close to its surface as he deemed safe, aware the fighters wouldn’t fire on their own ship. Increasing their speed the whole time, he jagged between communications towers and gun outposts, while Paul worked the guns beside him, hollering every time they landed a hit.

  ‘Flint, did you load us with anything that might make a dent on that big bastard?’ Caladan shouted. ‘Would be nice to take a decent scalp.’

  ‘Bagboy!’ Paul shouted, as another fighter took a direct hit. ‘Boom, boom, and double boom!’

  Below them, a damaged fighter spun in a death roll, crashing into the de-transmission ship’s surface. A brief explosion plumed, then was gone as the ship’s reparations systems kicked in.

  ‘We could concentrate the main guns, but we’d only get one decent blast,’ Flint said. ‘However, it would leave us defenseless.’

  Caladan checked the systems on his dashboard. Teer Flint was still talking, Paul still whooping as he took out another fighter. A couple of blasts came in, shaving the outside of the Matilda’s shields, one taking a surge of power to deflect. Before long t
he fighters’ internal computer systems would start to learn his preferred moves, and their guns would get closer. No battle against such odds could last for long.

  ‘Arm the main gun,’ he said. ‘We’re coming around.’

  He swung the Matilda back up into space, the pull of g-force making his eyes water as the systems struggled to auto-correct quick enough. Beth groaned, even as Teer Flint gave a gasp of awed delight. In the gunner’s chair, Paul glared, unflinching, at his dashboard screen even as sweat beaded on his forehead. On the simulation screen above their heads, the Matilda’s eight guns moved closer, turning the spinning space spider into an arrow point, fitting into place to create one simultaneously firing cannon.

  Caladan drew the fighters back out into space, then arced around, coming back to face the de-transmission ship from the rear. Two huge thrusters, one on each side, held the ship in orbit. Cannons protecting the weakest part of the ship began to fire, but Caladan easily avoided them, grinning with amusement as one blast took out a following fighter.

  ‘Don’t miss, Little Buck,’ he said, reaching across and punching Paul on the arm, then cackling with laughter. ‘Do it for the general, or Skeeter’s Gate, wherever the hell that is.’

  ‘Aye, aye, Captain,’ Paul growled, then pressed the fire button, making a firing noise at the same time which made Beth frown and shake her head.

  Their cannon blast scored a direct hit on the left-side thruster. The thrusters flared, then a large explosion blew debris out into space as the thruster broke apart. The de-transmission ship listed, dropping out of orbit as its right-side thruster tried to compensate. Caladan, grinning, flew them closer, right into the debris field, the Matilda shuddering as her shields deflected pieces of the damaged ship.

  ‘Okay, Flint, your turn,’ Caladan said. ‘Engage the smoke screen.’