ARMS Domers Unite: (Book 6)

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ARMS Domers Unite: (Book 6) Page 17

by Stephen Arseneault


  Alex frowned. "We don't know if Earth exists in a habitable form anymore. It was an expected gamma-ray-burst that convinced us to run in the first place. Could be we would return to a dead, barren world."

  "So we send a scout through to check. And I would have to guess there are other habitable planets out there that don't have the threat of constant annihilation hanging over them. We could always jump there."

  Tawn said, "Well, unless you wanna die here in this sector, I'd suggest we start working up a plan for a Hoya ship. You're daydreaming about Earth can wait."

  A comm was placed to the Retreat: "Colonel, Tawn and I would like your assistance."

  "Whatever you need."

  "We want to grab a Hoya ship. At the moment, that probably means putting boots on the deck. I want to attempt this using our bots, but I'd like your teams to plan it out. I'm sending you the data we have from our encounter with the Hoya, along with what should be an extensive historical archive of the Denzee."

  "I have a channel open. Send it when you're ready."

  "AI," Harris said, "make a data set for us that has all the Denzee historical records concerning the ships of the Hoya fleet, their tactics, their crew habits and whatnot. We'd like to go out and capture a Hoya vessel for study. I'm sending you the colonel's data channel for transmission when you're done."

  "Thank you for again placing confidence in me, Harris. The data is on the way, organized into easy-to-follow and relevant categories, as always."

  Harris gestured toward the door. "Miss Freely, care to join me in a flight to the Retreat?"

  "Why thank you, Mr. Gruberg. That would be pleasant."

  Harris chuckled. "Good one."

  As they left the room, Alex said, "Strange pair."

  "Been like that since I've known them," said Trish. "One minute you think they're gonna lop each other’s heads off, and the next they're laughing about it."

  The Bangor landed at building one of the Retreat. A short walk had the Biomarine pair sitting in a conference room with the colonel and several members of his planning team. After several hours of studying the data, the beginnings of a capture plan were in place.

  "This midsize gunship," said the colonel, "has the full-power rail cannon. The forward sections have the heavy shielding. We grab one of those and we have our primary data."

  Tawn nodded. "Scan data shows ninety to a hundred crew on those. A dozen of our bots should be able to handle that."

  "You're still stuck on using those?"

  "It's the smart thing to do, Colonel. Especially for a first raid. We need to know how they fight before risking our own people. They kill a dozen bots... we just build more. And the bots’ self-destructs can do added damage."

  The colonel tapped his fingers on the table. "Delivery of a squad. How do we get them aboard?"

  "The AI identified possible points of entry." Harris gestured toward a holo-image that floated above the conference table. "Most likely candidates are these bays, although those are probably the best defended. Secondary are these recessed sections. The plating appears to be thinnest there. Any assault team would cut their way through."

  Tawn said, "One concern of mine are these weapons they use. We found this gun that fires a spray of pellets with an ultra-high concentration of acid in them. Will melt holes in a battlesuit in about fifteen seconds. Not only do you lose your ability to fight outside of atmosphere, but the suit, with holes, does little to dissipate a plasma charge coming from their hand weapons. They don't carry many of these acid guns, so I think taking those out should be a priority."

  "And we have to believe that acid keeps burning once it penetrates your suit," Harris added. "Then it would be burning you."

  "Our structural layout of the midsize—it's called a Kexar—leaves a lot to be desired. The Denzee only had a workup on the back third of one of those. They picked that up after a fight where the ship was destroyed but that back third remained intact. So if our team goes in at either of these two aft points, they should have a layout of the hallways and rooms beyond."

  The colonel nodded. "Good work on pulling that information out. Let's move on to the Hoya themselves. Average height is one-point-eight meters tall. Average weight: fifty-five kilograms. The Hoya are thin. Skin has a reddish hue and is rough, almost scaly. Hairless. Narrow green eyes. A small nose and mouth, with razor-sharp teeth. Hands have three fingers and an opposable thumb. Feet are wide, webbed, and have four toe-like extensions."

  Tawn chuckled. "They have duck feet?"

  "Apparently. They also carry a nasty bacteria under their claw-like fingernails and in their saliva, so you don't want to get bit or scratched. As to battlesuits... they don't have them. For whatever reason they wear uniforms. Doesn't seem wise for a space-born species, but it's what they've chosen to do."

  Harris nodded. "So they die easy. Can't say I dislike that."

  "Not so fast. The Denzee reported they were extremely quick. The advantages we hold over regulars in that regard may not apply here. And they are said to be excellent swimmers."

  Tawn again chuckled. "Fat good that will do them on a ship."

  The colonel shook his head. "Again, not so fast with your assessment. In the few recorded hand-to-hand fights they had after boarding a Hoya ship, the Denzee found entire decks that were flooded to just over a meter deep. So our people would be going in with limited mobility in the water, which is an environment the Hoya excel in."

  "Well, that's not good news. Plasma rounds and water don't mix. You get steam. Everyone with eyes above that waterline won't be able to see squat."

  "Exactly. And unless you breach the hull, the water remains aboard. Best case is draining it to a lower level, where you will again encounter the same issue."

  Harris said, "Sounds like we need to optimize the bots for fighting in that environment. Heck, we could even give them propellers for when they're in the water. I'm sure the AI can come up with a decent set of sensors for any steam caused by a plasma round. None of this sounds like a show stopper."

  The colonel sat back in his chair. "It's not. Just a potentially new environment for us to deal with."

  Tawn said, "Been there before, Colonel. Remember Beckland? We were waist deep in the muck on that planet about half the time we were out on patrol. Water should be a breeze as compared to that mud."

  "That muck wasn't in a confined space, and other than Earthers, who were easy to spot, or those nasty kraken creatures, we had no unknowns. These Hoya are almost completely unknown. Are they fierce or timid? Do they sacrifice themselves willingly or are they retreaters? We have no psychological profile to base assumptions on."

  "We know they like to kill Denzee, completely," said Harris. "That should be enough to go on."

  The discussions continued for most of the day. After watching the handful of recorded battles the Denzee had in their archives, only a handful of tactics were identified. Every move could have been assigned to chance. The colonel was not excited about the thinly-pieced-together assault plan.

  — Chapter 19 —

  * * *

  Tawn cringed as they walked back to the Bangor. "Don't think we know much more than we went in there with. We send in a team of bots and they're largely gonna be on their own. It would be nice to have the layout for the front two-thirds of that ship."

  "I'm concerned they'll get a hold of the wormhole tech. The AI said the recording showed that all Denzee ships were fully destroyed. But all they need is to catch a single Earther ship with a jump generator."

  "We should quiz the AI when we get back. There can't be that many ships left in the Earther Empire that have it. Maybe a hundred on the outer colonies?"

  "Don't forget the thousands on Domicile and her colonies. Any of those would be just as easy to grab."

  Tawn returned a half scowl as she stepped up through the hatch to a waiting Farker. "Meh, if they don't have the wormhole tech, we're talking several years before they would reach the free colonies or Domicile itself. They do that a
nd they don't need the tech."

  The drive system lifted the Bangor from the ground, quickly leaving a trail of flame as the ship zipped up through the Retreat’s atmosphere.

  As they reached free space, Harris entered coordinates other than Midelon.

  "Where we headed?" asked Tawn.

  "Jellon. I want to see if the Hoya are setting up camp there."

  "Can't the AI get us that info?"

  "Not like one jump will cost us any time. The colonel isn't comfortable with our plan to snatch a Hoya ship. Until he is, I'd rather not risk any assets."

  A distant image of Jellon appeared on the nav display.

  Tawn frowned. "Sensors aren't showing a single ship."

  A wormhole comm was opened to Midelon.

  Harris said, "AI, scan the areas surrounding Jellon. The Hoya force is no longer there."

  The AI replied, "I am sorry, Harris. I can no longer do that. The Hoya have a method of blocking our scans from detecting anything but visual. Without opening a wormhole within a few hundred kilometers of their location, there is no way to track them."

  "When did this happen?"

  "Just over nine standard hours ago."

  "Why didn't you comm us at the Retreat?"

  "I believed that effort to be of no value. Had I sent that message, and had you followed by returning to Jellon, as you have, you would not have been able to change the current circumstance."

  "And why would you say that?"

  "From your nav signal I have determined you are in free space. The Hoya may still be where they were. However, on visuals alone, you cannot determine their location without placing yourself within range of their weapons."

  Harris sat back in his chair with his arms crossed.

  Tawn chuckled. "That make you mad or what?"

  "I'm just thinking. Do we have any of the passive probes aboard?"

  "Three."

  "AI, would it be possible to send in one of our probes to confirm a visual? I could set it on a path that would take it right past them and then wait for it on the other side. All the while never placing us at risk."

  "I believe that to be an excellent suggestion, Harris. Well played. Releasing a probe at speed will allow passage in approximately twenty minutes. Given the passive nature of these probes, it should be allowed to pass through the previously occupied space of the Hoya while appearing to be no more than a space rock. Well done."

  Harris turned to Tawn. "Wanna pull a probe and ready it for release?"

  "I can handle that."

  After releasing the device, they jumped. Twenty-two minutes later saw it collected at the other side of the system.

  Harris shook his head. "We have a single ship there. Must be what's broadcasting that signal."

  Tawn looked over the recording. "I don't see any of the rail turrets on it. Looks like a couple plasma cannons fore and aft but nothing else. Resolution isn't the greatest or we could see if it had any missile tubes."

  Harris opened a comm wormhole to Midelon, ordering a pair of Banshee fighters to their location. Twelve minutes later, they were streaking past, heading for the target with orders to disable it if at all possible, without destroying it.

  Tawn said, "What a crappy posting to receive if you're the crew of that ship. They have to know that ship would lose in any engagement."

  Harris opened a comm. "B27, hold back while B56 moves in. I don't want to lose two of you to some surprise."

  "Yes, sir."

  Tawn sat back in her chair as the first Banshee closed. "You think they have anything down on the surface? That first probe was too far out to see."

  "Go get another ready and we'll send it on its way. It’ll cost us another twenty-two minutes, but we'll be able look at the surface down there."

  Fifteen minutes of silence passed before a comm came in from B27. "We've had no further contact, Mr. Gruberg. Should I go in to investigate?"

  Harris shook his head. "Your comm coordinates show you as halfway between us and that ship. Hold your position. We're sending in another probe."

  Harris looked at Tawn.

  "What?"

  Harris chuckled. "Go ready another probe, Princess."

  "Princess?"

  "I would have thought you'd have picked up on the hint since I was just talking about a probe to B27."

  "And why am I the one who has to stand to do that? Your meat-head isn't doing anything but sitting there."

  Harris chuckled. "I'm the one in command. I'm giving orders. You need to follow precedent and ready a probe."

  "You ever launched a probe before?" Tawn asked.

  "Sure, plenty."

  "Then get your own lazy ass up and do it. You know, precedent and all."

  Harris stood, shaking his head. "You think you got a partner, and all you got was a complainer."

  "If I start complaining, you'll be the first to know about it."

  Two probes were launched and a jump made for a collection of the first.

  Tawn pushed the recorded visual data to the display. "What the heck is that?"

  "A building?"

  Tawn chuckled. "I know it's a building, you idiot. But what is it? What's its function?"

  "You don't know what a building is?"

  "Just stop, now, before I'm forced to clobber you."

  Harris returned his focus to the display. "Dishes usually mean you're transmitting or receiving something."

  "But what?"

  "Let's pick up probe two."

  Five minutes later, Tawn pushed the visual data to a split display screen. I don't like the looks of that. That Banshee should have self-destructed if it lost power."

  Harris opened a comm to B27. "Give me the results of a scenario where your ship loses power when in a hostile situation."

  "Self-destruct is the priority order."

  Tawn asked, "What would be a hostile situation? I'm passing the recording from our last probe. B56 appears to be sitting idle, without power."

  B27 replied, "Given the situation, it would appear that B56 has determined the current situation to not be hostile. Should the Hoya ship approach its position, that determination would change."

  "So as long as no ship approaches, B56 would sit and monitor the situation?"

  "Assuming sensory access has not been blocked. Although, should that happen, the default command is to self-destruct."

  "Have you detected any signal emanating from the building on the surface?" Tawn asked.

  "None. However, given the curvature of the dishes, and the evident power feeds running into them, I would surmise the building is used as a weapon, as well as to degrade our sensors. I noted a marked increase in interference with my systems as I approached the target vessel. It's possible B56 saw that same increase, its systems overwhelmed as the distance closed."

  "Sounds like we need to take out that building on the surface."

  Harris nodded. "B27, come in from behind the planet, skim the surface coming around, and take out that building."

  Tawn grabbed Harris by the arm. "Belay that order."

  Harris glanced over. "You have something in mind?"

  "I do. We go down and see if we can get into that building. Might be tech or info we want access to in there. We can watch for the same interference issue as we approach. If we find it getting to be too much, we back off and go with your plan B."

  "I can get behind that."

  A jump later, followed by fifteen minutes of flight, had the Bangor dropping through the Jellon atmosphere as a fireball. A twenty minute run had the ship slowing on approach. At fifty kilometers’ distance, it was decided the ship should go no farther. After settling in a ravine. The Biomarine partners set out on foot.

  As they hustled across the Jellon terrain, Tawn said, "You do realize that we're wide open for abuse if the Hoya return, right?"

  "Without a wormhole generator, they aren't a threat at the moment. What might be a threat is what we run into when we get to that building."

  Tawn chuckle
d. "We can handle whatever the fifty-five kilo pedestrians throw at us. I'll grab 'em and snap 'em in half if I have to."

  "I don't know, they're supposed to be faster and more agile than we are."

  "My guess is they originate from a lower gravity world, which is why they're skinny. The gees here on Jellon are 102 percent standard. Anybody down here from a light world will be feeling it."

  "Let's hope."

  Three and a half hours passed before the top of the dish antenna structure came into view. Tawn crawled up next to Harris and they looked down on the complex from a nearby hill.

  "What'cha think?"

  Harris tapped the side of his helmet. "I think our gear isn't working anymore. Check your rifle."

  "Hmm… dead."

  "So I'm starting to think maybe we were being a little nuts by coming in here. We have no comms and no weapons."

  "Not true." Tawn pulled out her combat knife.

  Harris chuckled. "You aren't serious, are you? Storm an unknown enemy building with a pair of knives?"

  "You brought yours?"

  "I always bring mine."

  Tawn looked back down the hill. "I see an entrance with nobody guarding it. Want to go have a look?"

  "Should be dark in about an hour. Have any aversion to waiting until then?"

  Tawn slipped back down the hill by several meters, reaching up into her pack and coming back with an MRE. "I can wait."

  Harris followed. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to go in on a full belly."

  "Never know when that next meal is coming, do you?"

  "The one thing they taught us that we could always count on—eat when you have the chance."

  Tawn chuckled as she opened her meal.

  Harris sat looking at the MRE freshly removed from his pack. "What is this? Where's my ribs?"

  Tawn laughed. "Did you mistakenly put the wrong meal in there?"

  "A banton meal. Sour vegetables and less meat than you'd find on a parakeet. This is what they give you when you have belly scourge... Beckland's revenge."

  Tawn bellowed in laughter, accidentally spilling the contents of her own. "What the... no! That did not just happen."

  Harris chuckled as he held out his meal. "You're welcome to half of mine."

 

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