"The items are highlighted in the visual diagram I just sent you. Five minutes twelve seconds will be required to harvest those items if done by the workers."
Harris asked, "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking we chase off those Earthers for five minutes twelve seconds is what I'm thinking. Head in with our railguns blazing, not actually targeting them, and hopefully they run. We drop in, grab the parts we need, and either stay and keep salvaging or leave."
Harris nodded. "I like option one. Bot fleet, we need you to attack the Earther ships. But we don't want any Earthers or their ships harmed. We just want to chase them off. Think you can handle that?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Then handle it."
Four Legions and the Banshee could soon be seen as fireballs dropping through the atmosphere. A handful of tungsten rounds were fired into the dirt surrounding the two Earther ships. In under a minute, they were lifting up through the sky as the Banshee and Legions fired off a number of near-miss shots. The Hailstorm dropped in behind them, settling in the center of the debris.
Two dozen worker bots emerged, scattering in different directions. The Bangor landed only seconds later.
Harris was the first out of the hatch. "You all have your lists. Grab what you can as fast as you can."
The Earther ships stayed in high orbit for twenty minutes before heading out to free space. Ten minutes later they were moving through a wormhole, back to the empire.
Harris dropped parts in an open bay before turning back for the next items on his list. "Alex, please tell me you optimized this new list for building complete Banshees."
"I cannot tell you that, Harris. You are working from the original list. The bots were working from the new list, which has been completed, so they have moved back to the original."
Harris reached up to smack his forehead before impacting the top of his helmet with his gloved hand. "OK, look, optimize for building complete Banshees. And that's all lists. I want everyone pulling parts that we can fully utilize once we're back at Midelon. Got it?"
"Got it."
The list showing on the heads-up-display inside Harris' helmet changed. A green triangle illuminated the direction of the next part to be gathered.
An alert came in from the patrolling ships. "Sir, we have incoming vessels. Twelve and counting. They are Denzee, sir."
Harris turned for the Bangor. "Everyone! We have incoming! Drop what you've got in your hands and head for the nearest ship. And run like there's no tomorrow, because if they catch us... there's no tomorrow!"
Tawn joined Harris on the Bangor as Trish, Gandy, and Sharvie boarded the Hailstorm.
As Harris began to lift off, Bannis Morgan came over the comm: "Sure, leave the old man."
Harris checked his sensors, setting the ship down hard beside him, the wind blowing him over. Tawn jumped from the hatch, pulling him up to her waist and taking two long steps before diving into the open doorway. The duo skidded to a stop on the deck.
Bannis rubbed a shoulder that had scraped on the ground as Tawn had scooped him up. "Should I thank you for that?"
Tawn chuckled as the Bangor rocketed skyward. "You should."
"Thanks, then."
Harris said, "I think we can make it! Our two scouts are in free space and jumping. They pulled the Denzee toward them. We should be good."
The blue Gondol sky turned dark and then black. The surrounding star systems came into view on the display.
With just under a minute to go to reach free space, an alert came in from a trailing Legion. "Sir, I show a wormhole opening between the Denzee ships and a position in front of you."
"What? They're jumping around to our side? Cheats!"
As the Denzee Ratoon came through, four additional wormholes opened nearby. Three Legions and a Banshee raced in. The lights on the Denzee ship went dark as Harris turned the Bangor hard away. The disc on the front of the warship glowed blue-white for several seconds, its invisible beam of death just missing the Bangor.
The small bot fleet attacked the Ratoon with the ferocity of a herd of wild boglers that had been cornered by a predator. Within seconds the main weapon was offline and the missile hatches had been pushed in hard, as were the plasma cannons running down each side.
A short run had the Bangor out in free space. A wormhole was opened and a command sent to the bots to return to Midelon. Twelve minutes later, the entire fleet was sitting on the ground outside the bunker.
Bannis stepped out onto the grass, still a bit shaky. "That was exciting."
Tawn chuckled. "Not much rattles you, does it?"
"My bones rattle. That's enough."
Harris asked, "Alex, can you give an analysis of what we got? How many ships will we be able to build?"
"The acquired materials should allow construction of fourteen Banshees."
"Fourteen? That's it? We need to go back."
Tawn shook her head. "We barely made it out. If we went back and they jumped in ten ships, we'd be nothing but vapor right now. How about we build out these fourteen Banshees and then we'll talk about getting more salvage."
"Fair enough."
"In the meantime we should make a jump to Rumanta and Jellon to get status of what's happening at each colony. If they're putting up more of those buildings, that tells us they never had plans to only stay for six months."
Bannis said, "What you need is a ship and a bot force that are expendable. Send them in to harvest. If they get caught, self-destruct. Of course, we don't have those, so... what were we talking about again?"
Tawn chuckled. "You OK?"
"I may have hit my head."
Harris stepped up into the Bangor. "Tawn? You coming?"
The Biomarines sat in the chairs in the cockpit. Harris powered up the drive.
Tawn said, "You forgetting something?"
"Uh..."
"We either need a bot or Farker to travel."
"Good point."
A comm was opened. "Farker, come to daddy."
"Daddy?"
"Yeah. I decided he would probably be as close to a kid as I ever got."
"A robotic pet? Yeah, I guess I could see that coming from you."
"OK, and what offspring would we see coming from you? A bogler?"
Tawn chuckled. "If we're talking animals, that would probably be it."
The dog hopped into the cabin and the ship lifted off. As they came through a portal to Rumanta, a deep scan was performed. Six Ratoons turned their way. A new wormhole was opened and a jump made to Jellon. Again a deep scan was taken. Another portal was opened back to Midelon and the Bangor moved through.
Harris asked, "What we got?"
Tawn pulled up the data. "Ships at Rumanta look to be about the same as before. They haven't begun construction of anything down on the surface. That's good news at least."
"Jellon?"
"For Jellon we have... nothing on the ground either. And most of the Dulons are gone. I don't see any sign of them building anything. Why would they be here if not to colonize or conquer?"
"Maybe they are just passing through."
Tawn shook her head. "You don't believe that any more than I do. They're here for one purpose—to kick our asses. What their strategy is right now? That's a mystery."
"We need our comm ship back up where Alex can be scanning all these systems."
Tawn opened a comm. "Alex, what's the status of the comm ship?"
"Hello, Tawn. Sharvie is finishing up with her manual sweeps. If the systems check out, we can put it back in position."
"Let's make that happen as soon as possible. We need to know what's going on out there."
"May I suggest we send out the "bot fleet," as you call it? Those five ships, using their wormhole generators, could cover the settled colonies in a matter of minutes."
"How are we doing on jump fuel reserves?"
"In storage we have the reserves for approximately one thousand ninety-six jumps."
Harri
s scowled. "That's it? If we send out the bots to check the Earther and truce worlds, we burn through about fifty of those right there. No. We need to start conserving our fuel. Get that comm ship up and working. Maybe we can wrangle some fuel from a truce colony or two. Wish there was a way for us to produce our own jump fuel."
"I'm sorry, Harris. We do not have the equipment needed to do so."
"And we can't build the equipment, I know."
"I'm sorry, we don't have the equipment needed to build the equipment."
Harris sighed. "Well, if we can't buy it, we may have to pirate some from the Earthers. Not like they don't already hate us anyway."
Tawn smirked. "Bax has a storage tank there on Eden. Might be kind of funny to go in and steal hers."
"It would be. But it wouldn't happen without a fight. If we're to do this, it should be by taking a ship where the crew would be willing to surrender rather than die."
"We're talking Earthers. Who knows how they would react."
Harris tilted his head to one side in thought. "The Denzee are using jump fuel. They must be producing it somewhere. They're using our wormhole generators. The fuel would have to be the same. Alex, go through your prior scans and tell me if you see any evidence of jump fuel being produced or transported by the Denzee."
"One moment... the data shows an instance of every fleet having at least one fuel transport. Hmm. I believe I might have something of interest for you. While monitoring the Denzee fleet at Rumanta, before the loss of our comm ship, I have a single instance of a wormhole portal opening with one of those transports coming through. I'm passing the coordinates of the other side of that portal to you. It might be advisable to investigate."
Harris glanced over at Tawn. "What do you think?"
"I think we take that bot fleet and check it out. If there's fuel there, we take it or at least destroy their facilities."
"I have a better idea. We go in, and if we find fuel we set off a boson bomb. Freeze the whole place up. From there we move whatever assets we decide we want out to the edge of the field and bring them back here."
"You, sir, are a genius. I say we do this and do it now."
A comm was opened to Bannis. "Tawn and I are heading out to try to get more jump fuel. We're taking the fleet with us, along with a dozen of the worker bots. Just keep everyone there focused on building more bots and Banshees. Not sure when we'll be back, but hopefully not long. I'm passing you the coordinates of where we'll be."
"We'll be here, Mr. Gruberg. I'll keep things moving."
The fleet was assembled. A dozen worker bots, armed with plasma rifles, boarded the Hailstorm. Fifteen minutes later the fleet entered an area near the edge of the Human space. A single Ratoon was parked beside a large stationary facility. Numerous transports and freighters were docked in and around the facilities.
Harris hustled to the airlock. A boson bomb was deployed and detonated only seconds later.
Tawn smiled. "A single Ratoon? This should be easy-peasy. Bot fleet, let's take down that Ratoon as soon as possible. We're on a time-clock here."
The four Legions and the Banshee raced in as the Ratoon came out to defend. The fight was over after the first blast of the Denzee superweapon. The bots descended on the warship with a savage response, pummeling her exterior with a relentless barrage until the tough Denzee hull failed. A small hole soon had the warship gutted by a hundred hypervelocity tungsten rounds.
The Hailstorm pulled into a docking bay and the dozen worker bots immediately engaged in a firefight with Denzee defenders. The bots sprang, leaped, bolted, and fired in a highly coordinated attack. The armed Denzee workers in the docking bay were quickly dispatched.
As the Bangor pulled into a dock, Harris said, "Should we even be getting out?"
A comm came in from the bot who had assumed command. "Sir, the port bay is clear. A bioscan has been conducted. We expect to have this facility cleared in eight minutes."
Harris stood by an unopened hatch. "Very good. Ah, what's your designation?"
"W18 sir."
"Well, keep up the good work, and keep us informed."
"Will do, sir."
Harris turned back to face Tawn. "I think we wait the eight minutes. No sense in us getting our guts splattered from a lucky shot by one of those furballs."
Tawn nodded. "I'll flip on the feed from... W18, was it?"
"Yes."
An image showed on the display. The bots’ movements were fast, coordinated, and precise. They spread rapidly through the halls of the facility and were soon finishing off the last of the Denzee workers.
W18 reported in: "Sir, this facility has been cleared of bios. The team will be moving to the next of two remaining sections. I estimate a complete clearing of Denzee in twelve minutes, sir."
Harris nodded as the hatch opened. "Have at it, Mr... uh, W18."
The facility that had been entered was where the final processing of the fuel had taken place. Four large tanks fed the output into waiting transports. Preprocessed material was brought from the second facility while the raw materials required for the wormhole blend were delivered to the first.
Harris pointed at a facility computer. "See if you can get in and download whatever they have in their memories."
Six minutes later, W18 reported in. "The second facility is clear of Denzee. Moving to the first."
"Any casualties on our side?"
"Minor shrapnel damage, sir. All units are fully functional."
Harris nodded as he looked over Tawn's shoulder. "I may be starting to really like these bots."
"Can't say I'd like being on the other side."
Six minutes later, the Denzee fueling depot was without living Denzee. Six transports were laden with jump fuel. Two additional ships were pulled in and their tanks filled.
— Chapter 16 —
* * *
Harris said, "Wish we had a comm to Alex."
"What do you need?" Tawn asked.
"We have all this equipment here that can produce jump fuel. Are there any parts we could take that would allow us to make our own? I'd rather take it if it's useful. As soon as this tanker is full, we'll be destroying the rest of this."
"We don't have a way to open a comm portal."
"We still have an hour of this negation field left. If we run one of the Legions out to the edge, it could make contact, ask the question, and possibly get back with a response before the field is fully gone. Might only give us ten or fifteen minutes to play, but having our own fuel-producing equipment would be priceless."
Tawn nodded. "Give it a shot. We can always cut short and leave."
Legion L3 was selected and was soon leading the eight full transport tankers, now piloted by eight worker bots, out to free space. At the edge of the field, a comm was opened to Midelon and Alex was summoned. Data recorded and stolen from the fuel complex was passed on and a list of vital equipment returned. The eight transports were piloted through a wormhole before L3 returned. The remaining four bots were put to work removing the equipment.
Tawn said, "We have seven minutes before a full collapse. I would expect the Denzee to then flood this space with warships. Five minutes and we should be pulling away from this place as we rip it to shreds."
Harris pointed. "Get back to the ship. I'll be right behind you once we get this unit separated. It's critical if we want our own fuel maker."
Tawn turned and headed away. "Three minutes. You’d better be on that ship or I'm leaving your ass."
Harris chuckled. "Yeah, OK."
The unit being worked was pulled from its housing.
Harris yelled, "Get it out of here. The rest of you, leave immediately! Time to go!"
The materials were carried to the docking bay and onto the Hailstorm. Harris turned to run toward the Bangor.
Tawn came over the comm. "I'm pulling out. Skip the run back. Just go with the Hailstorm!"
Harris stopped fifteen meters from the ramp. Looking back as it lifted. "Crap! W18! Drop
that ramp! I'm coming with you!"
Tawn said, "Get moving! That field is almost gone!"
The ramp slowly lowered. Harris sprinted aboard. The ramp closed as the Hailstorm moved out into space. A hail of tungsten rounds began shredding the Denzee complex as the Hailstorm and the Bangor moved slowly away.
"Field is gone!" Tawn yelled.
"Jump away. We'll finish the job!"
Seconds later, the Bangor was through to Midelon space. The remaining bot fleet and the Hailstorm moved to destroy the final facility.
Harris walked onto the bridge. "Thirty seconds over. Let's get this finished up. We need space between us and this complex before we can open a wormhole."
A voice replied, "This is W8. Please be patient, Mr. Gruberg. The destruction of this facility is imperative to slowing the Denzees’ ability to move through our space. Another twenty-eight seconds is required for that task to be complete."
"Looks complete enough to me. Let's get a move on."
"Eighteen seconds, sir."
"W8, unless you want to be scrubbed and recommissioned when we get back, turn this ship now!"
The Hailstorm began to move away from the complex as the remaining bot ships continued to fire away.
Harris scowled. "All ships move away to free space! You can continue your fire as we go!"
As the ships turned quickly away, W8 said, "The task is complete. Fourteen seconds to free space."
"Good. And we'll have a talk about this when we get ba—"
A dozen wormholes opened at once. Ratoon warships popped into view. Eight were within five hundred kilometers of the Hailstorm. The lighting on all eight dimmed at once.
Harris glanced down at the processing unit controlling the bridge with an angry face. Seconds later, wormholes opened in front of the bot fleet. Six AI controlled ships, carrying one Biomarine and equipment to be used in the manufacture of jump fuel, slipped through to Midelon space. The wormholes closed behind.
Harris shook his head. "Seven seconds. We had seven seconds before we were turned into cosmic vapor."
"But we weren't, sir. The complex was destroyed, the production equipment was salvaged, and eight tankers of jump fuel were safely removed and added to our stocks. It would appear the mission was a complete success."
ARMS Beckland's Fall: (Book 5) Page 14