Yv turned and looked at another screen, showing the placement of the field headquarters of the dons’ squadron. The headquarters was put together in literally two days using timber cut down from ancient woodland on Lusus, which was the temporary base of the dons’ fleet. On the screen, Don Krushinka could be seen saying something to Old Fart, who stood beside him. Many in the ranks of officers leaned forward as if to try to hear what these two were talking about.
Yv grinned wryly. Despite the fact that open outrage had been averted, the attitude towards the dons among the officers of the fleet remained steadfastly unchanged: mildly skeptical. Also, he had already been told that his presence in the room would be for the last time. Even the most intransigent of his opponents grudgingly acknowledged that the potential benefit from direct contact with the don’s liaison officer during the initial processing of such important intelligence information could more than offset their discomfort in dealing with him. But the position he had been given had taken him far away from Tera.
“Thirty-two minutes before the probes are released.”
An excited whisper swept through the hall. During the confrontation, no ship of the fleet had been able to come so close to the captured Outpost. Then Lame Rhino’s strained voice announced. “We have guests.”
“Identification!” snapped Don Krushinka at the screen.
Yv knew that the BIOS system on a hundred of the most powerful ships of the dons’ squadron was connected to the network, so that it was possible to calculate a mathematical and tactical analysis of the situation, and Don Krushinka’s headquarters’ systems surpassed those of the fleet. Somewhere from off screen came the voice of a don sitting at a console.
“Eighteen targets detected. Seventeen identified. Seven Scorpions and ten Beetles. The eighteenth target is protected behind a seventh level reflection field, so identification is difficult. The ships already identified have a combat effectiveness ratio of eight to one,” and his next observation was not in military language, “our guys are going to be stepping on hot coals.”
The admirals of the royal fleet who were throwing wary glances in the direction of the far wall of the hall, where officers were bent over consoles also trying to carry out identification, all turned to the screen.
Don Krushinka leaned forward, but Lame Rhino calmly said.
“To all on board. Prepare for the following options. ‘Flick to the forehead’ safety option, and ‘Scissors’ and ‘Nutcracker’ maneuvers.”
The flagship captain standing next to Yv curled her lips.
“I think they’re going to skedaddle.”
Yv stared at the screen in silence, physically feeling the atmosphere bearing down inside the headquarters. The flagship captain opened her mouth, apparently intending to say something clearly derogatory, but at that second the voice of an officer on the far wall began to identify targets one by one, repeating what minutes before they had already heard from Don Krushinka’s field headquarters. The effect was ruined, so the flagship captain turned to the side of the console and snapped irritably. “Shut up!”
Tera, who was sitting at the console itself, diligently pretended not to notice anything but the screen. She didn’t want to heat up the atmosphere any further by feeding the persistently malevolent rumors being passed around that Tera had melted before the stinking peasant man like a piece of butter and was ready to crush the throat of any of her entourage for him. Also, she was not quite sure that he knew about the situation.
Lame Rhino’s calm voice came over the screen.
“Twenty-five minutes before ejection of the probes, and one minute before reaching the firing zone.” After a pause, he snapped, “Reconnaissance party. Engines ready for overclocking, prepare to repel a boarding attack.”
A gasp swept through the hall, and someone asked.
“Are they going to allow the ship to be boarded? With such a ratio against them?”
“We need information, and that is their task,” replied Don Krushinka over the screen.
Admiral Germain turned to Yv.
“If I’m not mistaken, the command ‘prepare engines for overclocking’ means—”
Yv nodded, before waiting for the end of the question. Tera gave him a quick glance and turned back to the screen. Don Krushinka’s voice came from the screen again.
“Hey Lame, turn on the outboard and internal sensors. We need to see what they let loose on you, other than trolls.”
Both images jumped up on adjacent screens. The main one was divided into three dozen images. One showed images of the compartments within the reconnaissance ship, and the other one showed what was going on around them. A moment later, all the images wavered, and Lame Rhino’s choked voice growled, “We have weapons contact. Probes released in seventeen minutes.”
The images on the edges of the screen were suddenly filled with the huge shell of Lame Rhino’s ship hanging over the rest of the scout ships.
The scout ships performed the ‘scissors’ maneuver, screening themselves from enemy fire behind the ship in the forward position. Pieces of its hull were scattered all around, and the ship was shaking like someone with a fever. The weapons batteries on the seventeen Enemy ships smashed it with massive firepower. The last one, the one that could not be identified, kept its distance, still hiding behind a reflection field.
A few moments later it was all over. A dozen screens showed the compartments on Lame Rhino’s ship. When the lights failed due to the damage, they switched to infrared imaging mode. There was a flash, and again all the compartments were visible, illuminated by dim emergency lighting.
The sensors located on the outside of the ship showed fountains of water vapor escaping through the mutilated hull. The compartments inside the ship consisted of a no less a horrible sight. Shards of broken lampshades, shattered wall panels in the corridors, and broken consoles ripped from their mountings. Above all this image of total mayhem came Lame Rhino’s calm and arrogant voice.
“The extent of damage. Forty-eight per cent losses, seven crew dead, engines at one hundred seventeen. Enemy boarding parties on the way. Next contact in two minutes. We are proceeding with the ‘Nutcracker’ maneuver. Twelve minutes until release of the probes.”
On the screen showing the space behind Lame Rhino’s ship, glowing pillars of light flashed. It was two scout ships hiding behind his ship, braking hard, trying to escape the dead zone. The next moment all the space in front of the scout ships was painted in flashes of rainbow light. The boarding parties rushing towards the scout ships exploded, after coming under fire from the ships. Again, there was pandemonium, fresh volleys from The Enemy ships, and one by one, the images on the screens, moved to infrared mode. When it was over, the three ships looked like a scene from a horror movie. For a few moments there was silence, then Lame Rhino’s image appeared on screen. The visor of his battle suit drenched in blood, but his voice had not changed.
“Damage to ships. seventy-three, sixty-seven, and sixty-eight per cent. Engines at one hundred and forty. Weapons batteries are incapacitated. Second wave approaching. Seven minutes until release of the probes.”
He took a deep breath.” Hey, Whiskered Mug, I do not like this quiet boy.”
It was clear that he was talking about the unidentified ship. Don Krushinka agreed.
“Me too. I can’t understand his role in all of this. What do you think?”
“When your ass is on fire, you think a lot faster,” Lame Rhino laughed hoarsely. “I think he’s waiting for us to throw the probes and relays forward then somehow spoil our liturgy.”
Don Krushinka nodded in agreement.
“That’s very likely, but what do you suggest?”
“Let’s show him what we have up our sleeve,” said Lame Rhino, grinning, and he went on to explain.
“In about ten minutes it will be as hot as the belly of a star in here. So, we will throw out the probes to coincide with the explosion, and the relays can be operated by our BIOS guys. They will explode a coup
le of minutes after I am gone. I have some other ideas.” He paused then finished with a kind of fury in his voice. “All we need to do is to break through the wave of boarding parties—”
At that moment small tremors began to shake the ships. The boarding parties were landing on the mutilated hulls. Information about the coordinates of the breakthroughs swept through the compartments, but there were too many of them.
Lame Rhino barked, “Stop what you are doing at the breakthrough points. Your orders are to gather on the gun deck and in the engine compartment.” He grinned almost cheerfully and added.
“Chaplain, put the coolest prayer that you have on the player, put it on the speakerphone and join us. We will serve the glory of God for the last time! Engines at one hundred seventy, and we have seven minutes to go. Goodbye guys.”
He nodded at the screen, then turned back to the dons sitting before the damaged consoles and waved his hand.
“How long are you going to sit there wiping your asses? Leave that junk behind, and let’s give it to them full on, for one last time.”
The dim light of the emergency lamps showed the dons stand up and leave their consoles, busily correcting their sword belts as they walked to the door. Three quarters of the ship was dead, but the people were still alive. The screen showed how the trolls were rushing through the breaks in the hull. When the wave of devils, clad in spiked armor, rushed onto the gun deck, the dons fired heavy iron arrows tipped with kelimit from crossbows and rushed forward. For a few moments, the fury of the doomed pushed back the wave of attackers, who retreated back into the corridors. There were too many of them, almost a dozen for each Don, and they once again retreated, first of all to the gun deck, then to the gallery leading to the command center. The second was at the entrance door to the engine compartment. The trolls slowly pressed the dons back. Suddenly Don Krushinka leaned forward and howled. On the screen showing images of the compartments adjacent to the hull, seven flexible bodies suddenly emerged. They vaguely resembled Scarlet Princes, only they were larger and without wings.
“Lame, there are Balrogs on your ship!” yelled Don Krushinka. “They are moving towards the compartments holding the probes!”
Lame Rhino growled something wild and strange, then turned and gestured something to the dons. The next moment, the boarding party disappeared in a cloud of burning smoke, as seven or eight Dons tore through the entire deck using the jump drives in their battle armor. They raced through the gallery, thrusting out swords and hacking at the trolls that they caught in the way.
Near the compartments, three of the dons fell upon exposed scimitars, as there could be no protection or even safety at this speed.
Miraculously, the others managed to slip through and flew to the doors of the compartments holding the probes, where they tried to slow down but did not succeed. They slammed to the floor, rolled, and tumbled noisily around, then slammed up against the walls.
Seconds later a Balrog appeared in the entrance. All the dons but one died almost immediately, torn to pieces despite their battle armor. The Balrog had already planted a huge claw on the last one, and it threw him into the air contemptuously, as if demonstrating to the people watching this fight what fate awaited them.
Suddenly the don grinned wildly and reaching for his holster, he pulled the trigger of the ray gun. The force from the shot instantly shifted what was left of the ship. All that was left in the compartment was bits of corpses, debris from the hull, and Balrogs, which were quite literally smeared all over the walls. The last of the Balrogs, who had been standing at the entrance, tried to jump out of the zone of disturbance. No normal person could have done it, but it almost succeeded. It dragged itself down the corridor, pulling along the lower part of its ragged body, screaming in the ultrasound range.
The fight on the gun deck was still going on, but the entrance to the engine compartment was already crowded with trolls alone.
Suddenly one of the mutilated Dons’ bodies stirred and slowly reached for a plasma blaster. The half-dead Don only managed to grip the stock, before a troll jumped forward, slashed with its scimitar, and severed his arm at the elbow. If it had left it at that, then most likely it would have survived.
Instead, it growled something in its own language in delight and kicked the plasma blaster into a corner of the compartment. The don’s unopened hand was still on the trigger mechanism with the safety catch off. The plasma blaster hit a piece of twisted metal and flashed off a shot. The shot fried a troll near the corridor, and the next moment everything lying on the deck shot up into the air and was instantaneously crushed by the displacement fields from the power frame.
It looked like the reactor powering the runaway engines had burned through the detachable circuits and cut off the power to the artificial gravity system. When the field came back on line, the lens on the internal sensor, which had miraculously survived, showed a room filled with green mist and red stains - a stirred slurry of the flesh and blood of humans and trolls, crushed by the displacement fields of the power frame.
In the engine compartment, it was all over, but there was still some movement near the control room. Among the swarm of bodies, it was difficult to distinguish between humans and trolls under the emergency lighting, which was covered with slime and red clots. Only from the sounds of swords being crossed was it clear that not all of the dons were dead. One of them suddenly jumped up, ran forward, and was impaled on a scimitar and the troll’s exposed claws, but even though he was writhing in his death throes, he managed to throw out both hands and plunge his sword and dagger into two trolls that were within reach. All three fell dead to the deck. The fight froze for a second as if a huge, living creature was dumbfounded by such an action, but then the trolls, roaring, rushed forward. The remains of the ship shuddered from the roar of a direct hit. A dry mechanical voice sounded out.
“Danger, danger, uncontrollable reaction and the threat of an explosion ...”
The sentence remained unfinished. A third of the screens flared and faded. Then Don Krushinka cried out loud. “My god, what a monster!”
The probes issued simultaneously by all three ships had hardly had time to unveil their sensory umbrellas and rush towards Outpost when the eighteenth ship disabled its reflection field.
To say that it was huge was an understatement. It was six times larger than any battleship in the kingdom, and even the battleships of the American Constitution of the Commonwealth would look like a dachshund next to a wolf in comparison.
Seconds later the hull of the ship was lit up with iridescent flashes, and sparks flashed all around the scout ships and their probes, exploding them.
Everybody in the room was stunned into silence. Everything that Lame Rhino had died for was being destroyed, and soon two more ships would be destroyed as well.
Behind the screen, to the accompaniment of the disaster, came the familiar voice of the operator at Don Krushinka’s headquarters.
“Forty-six percent of the probes and fifty-three percent of the relays have been lost.”
Sandra broke down and turned away. Many officers sat covering their faces with their hands, and only the flagship captain clung to the screen with eager curiosity. From one side of the screen, there was a certain rattling noise. Everyone froze. In the control room of one of the remaining scout ships, a surviving don appeared. Limping, he dragged himself to the captain’s chair and hung on the arm with the console. His visor was cracked, and his battle armor was chipped in several places and densely covered with mucous troll’s blood.
Everybody was staring intensely at the screen. The don repeatedly stabbed a gloved finger on the keyboard, muttering something hoarsely under his breath.
The image on the screen shimmered, then in the center of one of the ones that showed the zone in front of the scout ships, the monster ship slowly drifted into view. The next moment there was a direct hit, and the voice over the BIOS didn’t even manage to utter his first word. Once again, the monstrous ship was lit up by i
ridescent flashes of light and the second scout ship exploded. Then came an excited voice from the dons’ field headquarters.
“We have information!”
Don Krushinka growled and hammered a fist on the table.
“Good man! He showed them what he had up his sleeve!”
The officers of the fleet of the kingdom looked at each other quizzically, then all eyes fixed on Yv.
He explained. “They smashed the scout ship into pieces, but the expansion path of the debris and wreckage means that no field stabilization maneuver is possible - wherever they move to, the debris will be dragged along with them. They have to destroy the debris, so now all their weapons batteries are involved only in defense.”
“But why are the probes still working?”
“I have no idea. Probably Lame Rhino didn’t activate part of the probes and relays, and The Enemy’s sensors considered them to be just rubble, and now they are online.” He shook his head in amazement. “If there are enough of them to expand the network, in half a minute we will have all the information that we need.”
“The network is configured, commencing countdown,” said a voice. “The number of active probes is falling,” it said after a moment.
Several figures appeared in the command room of the last scout ship. One staggered on wobbly legs and walked to the command chair and the rest were busy in the corridor at the main entrance.
It looked like trolls had broken into the command room as well. Tera broke down and whispered, clenching her fists. “What are they doing?”
“The same as the others did,” Yv quickly replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.
Seconds later the last scout ship exploded. Yv gritted his teeth. The ship had almost managed to finish the maneuver, and the monstrous ship again had to deal with the debris. After a few moments, the voice of the don in the field headquarters was heard again. “The network has been restored, the number of probes continues to fall, but I am continuing to collect information.”
A minute later it was all over. For a few moments there was silence, then Old Fart, who had stood by Don Krushinka’s shoulder for the entire fight without saying a word, sighed, and said in his gravelly voice.
Swords Above the Stars Page 32