Denke gave the signal to attack. The assault team moved forward, bursting into the engine room with a suddenness that took the Xesset engineers and guards totally unawares. The murderous chatter of hand weapons counterpointed the heavy crump of stun grenades as the assault team attacked and Xesset belatedly reacted. Acrid fumes drifted out into the corridor.
“It will soon clear,” commented the marine lieutenant who was standing with Steg.
Steg waited impatiently for the signal that the team had control. When it came he joined Denke in the engine room, ready to identify controls that would stop the headlong flight of the alien vessel. After one rapid glance he ignored the dead and wounded Xesset. He retained an after image of pale, almost paper white, hairless bodies; Xesset were short legged and long armed, and their hands and feet appeared overlarge. He concentrated on his task, studying workstations and controls, matching their features and functions to the memories he retained.
“Here,” he indicated a workstation and Denke moved to assist, clearing away aftermath of the assault. Steg at first struggled with the Xesset codes and controls and fought the clumsy keyboard. Then his confidence grew and he worked quickly and deftly at the workstation, keying in commands to isolate the engine room from the main Xesset system, hacking maintenance shutdown procedures and relying on memories implanted by his earlier experience. He gave an audible sigh of relief when he was able to enter his instruction to change the drive status. So far his unauthorized activities had not attracted attention from the command deck.
“Well, de Coeur, now we shall see how reliable all this is. Let me check with the Greens, first. Then on my mark, shut down the drive.”
Steg readied himself and at Denke’s command he killed the drive. Simultaneously, a ripple of explosions sounded in the distance. The alien ship seemed to stagger and then quieten as an unnoticed roar of sound suddenly was replaced by complete silence. Console lights flickered and died. Then pressure waves from numerous explosions washed through the corridors, warping bulkheads and buckling walls and panels. Finally silence reigned.
Denke checked with his scattered two-man teams. As yet no one had sighted any Xesset. The command deck now would be aware that some kind of catastrophe had occurred on their ship and a troubleshooting team shortly should be heading to the engine room.
Minutes passed. Each man waited alone, isolated by silence and nervous anticipation of pending battle.
“Contact.” Denke was reporting to all team members. “The first team has contact. Apparently the Xesset were unarmed. No survivors. No Fleet casualties. The first team has set its mines and is drawing back to join the second team.”
Time passed. Steg paced back and forth across the small engine room. Denke did not move; he was focused completely on the need to monitor his deployed forces.
“Mines triggered, section one,” Denke relayed. “Teams one and two, prepare for contact. Other teams, alert.”
The minutes ticked by. Xesset officers apparently had realized something was terribly wrong. They would be planning their next move with utmost caution and the marines braced for a major assault.
“Teams one and two, fall back one section. Team three, fall back and join team four. Mines in sections two and three now armed. Confirm.”
Shortly after the teams confirmed their positions, Xesset attacked in a suicidal charge of heavily armed fighters, desperate to regain control of their engine room. Xesset sustained heavy casualties and the few survivors broke off their assault and withdrew.
“All teams fall back one section. Mines in section four armed.”
The marines were starting to fall back to the engine room. They had given a merciless example of disciplined fighting against Xesset forces, in turn suffering only minor casualties. Now the attention and efforts of both groups would move closer and closer to the engine room until it became the focal point of violent conflict. Eager to join the fight, Steg was impatient with restrictions Denke had imposed on him. He listened to the exchange of communications as again Xesset mounted an assault, dispatching wave after wave of fighters into the deadly defensive fire patterns maintained by the marines. They held their positions against mounting pressure and again Xesset casualties mounted. However, now the sheer weight and desperation of Xesset attackers began to take toll of the marines. Each side was fighting a grim battle. Xesset needed to take back control of their ship and the Imperials needed to hold them off until Ziangka came to their rescue.
“Fall back to final positions, all teams. All remaining mines are armed.” Denke had set his final defense positions from which they could not retreat. The engine room was beginning to take on the appearance of a field hospital as wounded marines were carried in to shelter, for triage and treatment. Steg and Cat quickly worked to dress and patch wounded fighters, some of whom were in need of far more expert treatment. Fortunately so far the Imperials had not suffered fatalities.
Denke shouted, startling everyone. “Ziangka is in range. She’s coming up fast. All we have to do is hang on until she arrives!”
Jeering from his audience was spontaneous. Denke ignored it and continued. “She’s launching cutters now. They’ll penetrate one of the stern cargo holds and reinforce us.”
“Why don’t you trigger Delta Three?” suggested Steg. “That should blow a hole for our cutters to penetrate and also provide a major diversion. Loss of atmosphere would be substantial, and the Xesset would be under immediate pressure from our reinforcements. Maybe the cutters could take a two-pronged approach?”
Cat could not hide his shocked expression; the thought of losing his cutter held no appeal for him. Denke considered the suggestion for a moment and then nodded his agreement. “It’s ready to blow anytime we want. I’ll work with the incoming cutters and then detonate Delta Three when they are ready.”
As he waited, Steg gradually became aware that he was starting to discern the activities of the Xesset computer systems. He reached out, again seeking to penetrate the alien systems. He pushed. Harder. The Xesset system pushed back and threatened to engulf him. He pushed again, applying all the mental energy he could summons. Then he relaxed. He ignored the elements of evil emanating from the very core of the Xesset system and merged with it. Gently he pursued tenuous threads linking units of the alien system. He was careful to not give Denke any indication he had re-established contact with the Xesset system. He also was extremely cautious in case the aliens detected his intrusion. His first objective was to identify and penetrate the Xesset battle control subsystem so that he could isolate and cut off any defensive action against the approaching cutters. Then, contact made, he deftly directed the battle control system into a logic loop that would prevent Xesset regaining control.
He turned his attention to other segments of the system and progressively introduced minor program changes to isolate Xesset forces and cut off their system access. While he worked, a battle raged furiously outside the engine room. In the meantime Imperial cutters were closing fast, surprised that they were not encountering hostile fire.
Denke triggered the explosives on Delta Three. The resulting blast rocked the ship and stunned their Xesset attackers. Shock waves rippled up and down the ship, creating thick clouds of dust and debris. Air pressure dropped suddenly, indicating a major rupture to the atmosphere envelope. The armored marines, those fighting as well as the casualties, had air for at least six hours, more than enough for their current needs. The vigor of the corridor conflict eased as partially armored Xesset suffered from loss of atmosphere.
Denke took quick advantage of this lull and turned his defense into a series of attacking forays, dispatching marines against demoralized Xesset forces. He glowed with satisfaction when at last the attacking cutters signaled they were safely docked inside Xesset holds. Apparently Xesset were abandoning ship, fleeing in a final and fruitless scurry of lifeboats.
“Come on,” Denke instructed his team. “We need to take possession of the main bridge—we need those navigation and star cha
rts.” He set guards to protect the wounded marines and headed out of the engine room, closely followed by Steg, Cat and the surviving marines.
******
Chapter 15
Throughout the morning, the corporate board had deliberated items of business for the smooth running of more significant affairs of House of Aluta. Now the Chairman turned and faced the Director for Special Projects, his stare ominous and threatening, his huge bulk almost overwhelming his powered chair. His Fain nurse struggled to maintain his oxygen flow.
“This little stunt of yours, this Homeworld takeover, is a disaster,” he sneered, his challenge barbed with savage intensity. “You have overrun your initial budget. The cost of maintaining two destroyers on Homeworld is eating into the expected profits, especially as we have not seen any favorable results. Yet. What do you have to report?”
“Er—Mr. Chairman, our team on Homeworld has encountered some—er—temporary difficulties—barriers—preventing us from closing the deal.” He wiped his forehead. “However, we do have some good news. Our intelligence contacts have reported they have traced the whereabouts of the de Coeur fugitive.”
“So, some good news.” The Chairman leaned forward, stretching his life support linkages. He trembled with repressed fury. “He has insulted the House and must pay the penalty.”
Marius was a favored protégé. The Chairman had regarded the defeat of Marius by the young de Coeur as both a slur on the House and a personal attack on him. Rumors held that Marius was the result of an almost imaginable liaison between the aging Chairman and one of his concubines. Others, less charitable, suspected that the Chairman had been hoodwinked. He was aware of these varied stories and claims, and ignored them all. However, those who spread the rumors, whether true or false, were on another list.
“Where is he? What plans have you prepared?”
“The fugitive has purchased an officer’s commission in the Imperial Fleet. He used that commission to escape from the trap we had prepared with our supporters in Imperial Security.” He ignored the bark of surprise from the Chairman and the ripple of interest from his fellow board members. He checked his notes.
“Ah—he is on board ss Ziangka, which is currently on patrol. We have a plan. Our next step will be to separate him from the ship—indeed, from Fleet protection. Then we will take final action to eliminate him. A pressure point has been identified. Board approval is sought to proceed.”
“Details man, details!”
“The captain of Ziangka has a mistress.” He consulted his notes again. “She is on Althere and has been attending one of our Happiness Clinics for treatment for an—imaginary—ailment. Unbeknownst to her or the captain, she has been on a course of—ah—special medication for the last three months.” He paused and looked around the table at the board members. “She has reached the irreversible stage in her addiction. And the cost of ongoing—er—treatment is well beyond the economic capacity of a Fleet captain. He is our pressure point. We have assembled a package—videos and other details—that is on its way to him by fast courier. He will soon see the sense in arranging for the fugitive to be relieved of his commission. Once de Coeur is dismissed we will finally deal with him.”
“Dangerous, fiddling with the Imperial Fleet. We can use our contracted destroyers; however, manipulating Fleet officers is high risk,” warned one of the more cautious board members. His opinion was reinforced by a number of the attendees.
“Pah!” snorted the Chairman. “Get him out of the clutches of the Fleet. Make sure it’s done cleanly. Then deal with him. Votes in favor?”
The chorus of assents flowed around the table. No one voiced objections. The Chairman hammered his gavel on the antique timber top of the table.
“Good. Approved. Costs to go against your budget, take note of that. Next item?”
The Chairman noted as a surge of relief relaxed the Director for Special Projects. Soft, he thought. Soft. One of these days we will have to put some steel into his backbone. One way or another. He turned his attention to the next item.
******
Chapter 16
Two shiploads of Imperial specialists rendezvoused with ss Ziangka and the captured Xesset ship. Imperial warships formed a makeshift docking area centered on the captured alien vessel. Fleet wanted to discover all it could about the Xesset as quickly as possible, after suffering major political discomfort and substantial adverse publicity because these pirates had been raiding regions of space where Fleet was supposed to be in control. While Xesset had raided only isolated outposts and undefended freighters, they continued to pose a more serious threat to the Empire with their exceptionally fast warships.
Additionally, Fleet sought its revenge; its reputation was at risk.
Work crews poured over the hull while teams of specialists set about a detailed study of the interior of the captured ship. The drive system was disassembled and studied and re-assembled and studied, until its secrets were thoroughly exposed. A xeno team was working with star maps and documents. ANother team was questioning the surviving Xesset prisoners who were proving to be sullen and uncooperative. Xeno objectives were to locate the Xesset raiders’ base as quickly as possible and their approach was brutal.
Steg was detailed to assist the xeno team in their examination of the main Xesset bridge. Denke was in charge and his objectives were clear: discover everything possible about the Xesset, identify their base and their home system. The Specials officer had scented blood and was seeking more details about the aliens.
As Steg stepped onto the bridge of the captured vessel, the now familiar wave of evil assailed his senses. He faltered, only to be pushed aside by one of the xeno team members, impatient to start work. No one else had reacted or commented on the evil atmosphere and Steg decided not to mention it.
He thought the Xesset interior design was ugly and awkward, obviously equipped for a very different species. Steg wandered around the bridge, vaguely examining equipment and papers, careful to avoid the rush of xeno specialists as he attempted to absorb and assess the alien working environment.
The bridge layout was sparse, drab, and colorless. It seemed to contain only the minimum of instruments and controls. It had the untidy aftermath of emergency abandonment. Papers, star maps, and manuals littered the floor, discarded when the alien crew attempted to abandon the ship. In their haste to flee they had not stopped to destroy papers or to sabotage equipment. Apparently accustomed to victory or flight, with total self-destruction their only response to defeat, they did not know how to cope when that failed. As a result the contents of the bridge, although untidy and disordered, were intact and available to the xeno team.
Steg examined a crumpled manual and straightened the pages, smoothing out the creases. He attempted to translate it, accessing the Ziangka system’s Xesset language archives. The results flowed with ease. The manual was a very basic and detailed set of instructions for operating the Xesset communication system.
He carefully placed the manual to one side and gathered up a set of star maps; however, the language archive lacked the depth of content to support his translation efforts. He placed the star maps on the navigator’s console and wandered around the bridge, almost aimlessly prodding and prying at whatever caught his attention. Denke had disappeared and the xeno team ignored Steg’s presence.
He sat at what appeared to be the main workstation, similar to the workstation he had used in the engine room. The keyboard was of crude construction and difficult to operate, designed for the wider span and blunter fingers of Xesset operators. Steg experimented with the keyboard to the sudden alarm of one of the xeno team.
“Stop that. Interference with alien artifacts before xeno clearance is prohibited by regulations,” came the stern admonition.
Steg smiled. He was disinclined to argue with the man. He spun around on the operator’s chair, ignoring the xeno’s outraged expression. He did not need to key in commands. Almost absently he made direct contact with the Xesset system, defi
ning a basic search function. He wanted to discover more details about the star maps.
His touch was soft and gentle as he developed exploratory mental contact, examining light paths and linkages, dipping occasionally into memory cells and sampling data flows. He could sense members of the xeno teams as they explored the bridge and Xesset quarters and further out he could sense the healing repairs on the outer skin of the ship. He watched the progress of the work crews, following their ant-like activities across the exterior surface with idle interest. He looked out and tried to view the stars. He moved into the communication net and monitored the flow of traffic. With growing alarm he detected the echo of faint commands from an external source. The ship was responding to those distant commands, moving out a stream of data, slowly emptying its memory cells.
His reaction was almost one of panic as he jammed the alien communication channels and closed down the entire Xesset system. Overhead lights blinked and faded to be replaced by emergency lighting. The ventilation system whined its protesting disagreement as it lost power and ceased to operate. Automatic doors jammed, either open or closed, seeming at random but suddenly immobile. A deep silence fell as all system-driven activities ceased. Then in the midst of the ensuing surge of concerned and protesting voices, Denke reappeared.
“Everything has shut down. I sense a familiar hand?”
“Well, yes. Xesset somehow remotely triggered a worm program. A large amount of data was flowing out. Also I think they were tapping into our activities here and possibly on Ziangka. I had to stop them.”
“You certainly succeeded.” Denke ignored the xeno officer who was expressing angry concern at Steg’s interference. “You stopped just about everything, I’d say.”
Broken Glass (Glass Complex Book 1) Page 14