Strand hissed, “Wait … wait … wait.”
Even though the range was now optimal, Strand held back. He wanted them even closer so there would be less chance for evasion. As long as they don’t suddenly change direction, we’ll get them. Come on … just a little closer.
The contact on his virtual screen had now entered the kill zone. Quickly adjusting the missile commands to enable the lancers to fire their warheads the moment they launched, Strand relayed his command to the other drones. “All units, fire!”
Inside the Wyvern’s bridge, the helmsman’s eyebrows shot up as a group of new contacts suddenly flared up on his virtual console. His prior training and experience instantly made him recognize the threat. “Commander, lancers dead ahead!”
Despite the intense gravity pull, Tran visibly shook in his chair. “Evasive action!”
The helmsman did what he could, attempting a desperate turn, but a large number of the lancers would hit since they had already spread out their incoming warheads to cover any potential avenues of avoidance.
Ten seconds later, several projectiles impacted along the side of the Wyvern, causing the entire ship to shake wildly. Several of the crewmembers on the bridge screamed as the vessel began to decelerate due to the damage to its radiators. Gravity became tolerable again, but it carried a heavy cost.
“Silence!” Tran said. Those missiles had to come from somewhere else, he thought. The Nepenthe must have released battle drones in her wake, hidden along the edges of the nebula to mask them from detection. He glanced over to his right. “Damage control, what’s our status?”
The damage control officer took a deep breath before answering. “Some hits to our cooling systems, and we’ve had to decelerate in order not to overheat. One main gun battery took a direct hit and is out. Nanite repair systems are working. All other hits on us are negligible.”
Tran sighed. We got lucky. “Tac Officer, do we have any drones of our own?”
“We do, Commander,” the tactical officer said. “Six battle drones and two warbot squads. We also have a company of Spaceborne troopers with battle armor.”
“Just deploy the battle drones and one squad of warbots. Keep the rest in case we need them for boarding actions,” Tran said. “Order our units to kill their assets hiding at the edge of the nebula.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tran looked towards the damage control officer once more. “Get those repairs moving!”
Within the Nepenthe’s battlesphere, Creull made a low purr, indicating satisfaction. “Strand’s plan worked. Looks like he damaged the pursuing enemy ship and she’s slowing down.”
“He has the makings of a future captain in him,” Dangard said. “Let’s finish off the one we’re after and get back to him. We don’t want to lose him now.”
“We’ll be in optimum range soon, so I’ll wait rather than expending more ammo,” Creull said. “What do you think happened to the younglings?”
Dangard shrugged. “The ones who supposedly escaped from Horizon to rendezvous with us here? I don’t know. It seems Zeno faked everything to get us here for an ambush.”
“Zeno isn’t exactly dead,” Creull said. “His central processing core is still intact.”
Dangard glanced over at a box attached to the wall. “We’ll reactivate and interrogate him after this battle. Perhaps he might know where the two children are being held.”
“What about his fate?”
“That will be up to the crew to decide,” Dangard said.
Oana listened silently and grimaced. Puteri Sin had been a good friend, and she mourned her loss deeply. A beeping indicator on her console renewed her focus. “We’re almost in optimum range of the enemy ship we’re pursuing.”
“Good,” Creull said. “Time for them to die.”
32 Day of Heroes
“Come on,” Lieutenant Garrett Strand said tersely as he commanded the heavily damaged battle drone ever deeper into the thick, ionized mist of the Mystic Mountain Nebula. The enemy had deployed their own drones against his team, and they were playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse with each other.
“LT, I just heard from Diego,” Spacer Ratana said over the com-link. “He took out another enemy battle drone, but his own drone is pretty much out and he’s just drifting now.”
Strand grimaced. “Tell him to stay put and stay off the com-links. We’ll get to him once we’ve dealt with the rest.”
“Roger that, LT.”
A loud clang made the entire battle drone shudder. Strand looked at his tactical readout and saw two enemy warbots pursuing his damaged small craft. He let out a curse while ordering his vessel to accelerate, but the drone’s fusion engine was nearly inoperative. The warbots fired again, this time tearing into the rear of the craft, causing an air leak in the pod.
I’m a sitting duck if I stay here, he thought. Reaching back, he opened the pod bay door and used his battle suit’s thrusters to propel himself out of the stricken drone. In less than a minute, Strand was practically swimming in the surrounding mist, his sensor range drastically cut without the drone’s more powerful command link.
He hated fighting robots. To pit one’s self against relentless machines seemed pathetic; there was no honor in it. He’d known many others who just gave up and killed themselves rather than be worn down by the thought of having to match wits with a merciless, nonliving entity. Robots viewed their enemies as mere mathematical equations, something to be solved rather than respected. An organic being had feelings, something a machine couldn’t understand.
Strand waited. Sure enough, the two pursuing warbots approached his trajectory; they must have missed his escape from the battle drone due to the ionized mist, and they continued to pursue the now abandoned craft, their simple AI thought cores tasked with relentless destruction towards their target. Their laser focus on the drone made them blind to me, he thought. They probably don’t have anyone leading them, it’s just an all-bot party.
He wanted to fire off his suit thrusters right away, but he knew it was better to wait and let them pass him by before making an elliptical trajectory for an interception. There was a chance their sensors might detect him once they got close, and he stood a better chance of beating them both if he held back. Calculating the risks, Strand decided to roll the dice.
He clenched his jaw as the two warbots slowly passed a few dozen klicks beneath him, their adjusted course homing doggedly in on the abandoned drone just ahead. If they spot me now, they can just turn and fire, then that’ll be it. He braced himself, ready to veer away if they suddenly shifted in his direction.
Nothing happened. The warbots continued on, their barrel-like torsos heading straight down, completely oblivious to him. Strand couldn’t help but smile. His luck held. Then again, he was always lucky when it came to fighting and killing. Better to take them out or else they might come back for me.
He angled his suit thrusters and fired off a short accelerating burst of plasma. One of the warbots immediately sensed something nearby and turned its front up at the new approaching heat source, but it was too late.
Strand had gauged it perfectly, his outstretched right hand grabbing onto the back of the second warbot’s upper handhold, the action immediately stopping his acceleration. Each warbot produced by all the factions was built along similar designs, and they all had the same weakness: their rear handholds were meant to transport and shield organic operators, while an enemy combatant could remain secure in the very same spot.
Working quickly, Strand used his gauntleted hand and smashed open the bot’s rear access panel. The ambushed machine had already alerted the second warbot and called for help while rotating its body so its ally could blast away at the hostile intruder clinging to its back.
Strand quickly located the control module and ripped it away, causing the robot he was riding on to spin erratically. The other warbot, not willing to fire on its ally just yet, failed to get a lock on the intruder with its weapons.
Ze
no had written an override code for his team in the past, and Strand quickly placed an interface jack into the warbot’s exposed rear panel. His suit’s readouts told him the virus had now infected the warbot’s command link, and he quickly gained control of it.
The second warbot immediately sensed its ally had gone over to the enemy the moment it lost the com-link network they shared. It was just about to unleash a barrage when the first warbot fired at it, hitting the sensor module and blinding it for a brief millisecond.
Strand activated his suit thrusters once more and was able to jet away as the two warbots continued blasting at each other. Less than a minute later, his suit’s sensors told him that both bots had damaged each other so severely they were out of the fight. Strand turned and flew deeper into the mist, looking for other targets.
The bridge of the USNS Wyvern had grown tense with an eerie quietness. Every crewmember in the room knew they were in the fight of their lives. Their earlier confidence at what was supposed to be an easy victory had been eroded as each allied ship in their fleet had been taken out, and all they had left was their training and discipline.
Fleet Commander Duc Tran stared intently at his command console. He was now in command of the sole remaining ship in the task force; the Gaugemela had at last been disabled by the pirates, and now the enemy was maneuvering to face him.
Despite all the setbacks the fleet had endured, Tran continued to exude confidence. The battle with the Gaugemela had damaged the Nepenthe, and now the pirate vessel wouldn’t have time to make repairs. From the analysis of his ship’s AI, Tran could tell the Nepenthe’s acceleration had slowed considerably, and much of their ordinance had been spent.
I still have one trick up my sleeve, he thought. Placing in the new coordinates on his tactical map, Tran relayed them to the helm and tactical stations. “Plot a new course here. In the meanwhile, continue firing main guns.”
“Yes, sir.”
At the heart of the Nepenthe’s battlesphere, Captain Lucien Dangard retained his customary aloofness, even though the situation had worsened considerably. His com-link circuit to the engineering deck was unbroken. “Viniimn, what’s going on? We’re barely getting any delta-V.”
The chief engineer’s voice on the other line was terse. “The failure of the main radiator has had a cascade effect. The last salvo the enemy ship threw at us really made things worse. We’ve got a major overheat problem. I recommend retreat.”
“We can’t,” Dangard said. “That last remaining ship out there can outrun us, and she’s maneuvering faster and out-positioning the ship. We need more acceleration.”
“I’m doing the best I can,” Viniimn said.
“I’ve had to slow down our rate of fire,” Commander Creull said. “We’re also running out of ammo for the main guns. We can probably slug it out with her using the lasers, but the enemy’s keeping her distance, so we have to get in close for them to be effective.”
Sitting in the pilot’s chair, Oana Florescu wanted to voice an additional complaint about not having the acceleration to close in on the enemy ship, but she decided to keep quiet. It was obvious the others knew it. For the first time since her recruitment, she had a feeling they might actually lose this one.
The com officer sitting near the edge of the Wyvern’s bridge noticed a strange reading on the far side of the nebula. She was about to alert Fleet Commander Tran of the discovery, but the contact suddenly disappeared from her screen, as if it never existed. Looking around, she tried to discern if any of the other crewmembers had seen it, but everyone was concentrating on their own duties. Not wanting to bother anyone at this crucial moment, she figured it must have been a sensor glitch, and continued to monitor the com-link chatter in silence.
Tran tapped the armrest of the command chair with his fingers. He hated the waiting in between decisions and results. “Tactical Officer, how long before we unleash our surprise?”
“About eleven minutes, sir,” the tactical officer said. “Assuming the Nepenthe continues on her present course.”
Tran bit his lip. If only maneuvers could be done faster and the results were instantaneous. Now I’m second guessing myself because it’s taking too long. No, this’ll work. It must work, so stick with the plan.
“Sir, Nepenthe has just changed course slightly,” the tactical officer said.
Tran grimaced. Damn it! “Can we still spring the surprise?”
“Yes, sir,” the tactical officer said. “They’ll still be within the kill zone.”
Tran let out a sigh of relief while staring at the tactical map once again. Come on, come to Papa. That’s it. That’s it.
The entire bridge shook slightly. The Nepenthe had just hurled another barrage at them.
Tran looked at the damage control officer. “Well?”
“Slight damage to our laser batteries along the port side,” the damage control officer said. “Nanite repairs underway. All other damage negligible.”
“Concentrate on keeping our radiators and drive working,” Tran said. “Until I say otherwise.”
“Yes, sir.”
Minutes passed. The tactical officer licked his lips. “Nepenthe will be in range of the trap in three … two … one. Mark.”
Tran gripped the sides of the chair with clawed hands. “Initiate our surprise.”
The tactical officer placed the commands into his console. “Lancer batteries have acknowledged. Popping up from the nebula … now.”
Tran grinned. Even though you nearly turned the tables on me, I have you now.
While sitting at the pilot’s console in the Nepenthe’s battlesphere. Oana’s eyebrows shot up at the new contacts revealing themselves on the tactical map. “Whoa, I got something!”
Creull looked up in surprise before hunkering down to stare at her own screen. “What?”
A tremendous barrage of lancer missiles had suddenly leapt out from the nearby folds of the nebula and was heading directly at them. Dangard silently cursed. The enemy must have kept some lancers in reserve while making a feigned retreat to draw them back into range, and the Nepenthe had just blundered right into them.
Oana let out a soft whimper while she began to attempt a high-gee maneuver. “I’m … I’m attempting to evade, but I barely have enough delta-V!”
Dangard stabbed the com-link button on his command chair with his finger. “Viniimn, we need more power to the drives or we’re dead!”
At the center of the Wyvern’s bridge, Tran had a big smile on his face while looking at the continual updates on his tactical map. The lancers had fired off their warheads, and the Nepenthe wasn’t maneuvering fast enough to evade the brunt of the incoming attack. I think we’ve got them!
The tactical officer’s voice had risen to a roar. “Enemy vessel attempting to evade, but they’re not accelerating fast enough. ETA for lancer warheads is under two minutes now.”
Tran gripped his hands together in a tight ball. Come on. Come on.
Seconds ticked by. The tactical officer seemed to be holding his breath in between his updates to the crew. “Lancer impacts in less than one minute. Nepenthe now angling her bow to face the brunt of the incoming ordinance.”
So they’re gonna hit for sure now, but she’s using her sloped front to try and weather the storm, Tran thought. “Weapons, adjust firing coordinates and keep at it. Maybe we can nail them in the right spot or two while they face those lancers.”
“Yes, sir,” the weapons officer said. “Adjusting fire on main guns.”
A roar of approval came from most of the crew as they observed the impacts on their respective consoles. The com officer threw her arms up in triumph. Two others started singing the Star Force anthem.
Tran held his hand up. “Pipe down, all of you. Even though it looks like we’ve crippled them, I want to take them alive.” He turned towards the smiling tactical officer. “Tell the boarding crews to get ready.”
The Nepenthe’s battlesphere was in chaos. Creull was busy giving out her o
rders for the crew to get into their battle suits to repel any boarders, while Dangard listened patiently to the chief engineer’s damage assessments. Oana simply stared at the screen in front of her, tiny droplets of tears making a watery film over her eyes, blurring her vision.
Viniimn’s voice over the com-link carried a hint of resignation. “We’ve got a choice, Captain. Either the crew concentrates on getting the drive and radiators back online, or they all put on their a-suits and fight.”
“We should fight,” Creull said. “Concentrating on repairs now is useless when the enemy can close and board us in a few hours.”
“Even if we fight, it won’t make a lot of difference,” Dangard said softly. “I’m pretty sure the enemy has got a full complement of Spaceborne and warbots. They can easily head over to the other crippled ships and pick up more soldiers and bots if needed.”
“We can take out as many of them as we can,” Creull said. “We’ll give them a fight they won’t forget.”
“Even if by some miracle we beat them back, they can still finish us off with their main guns,” Dangard said.
Creull growled with barely suppressed anger. “So what do you propose? Surrender?”
Oana let out a pained moan. It didn’t feel fair to her. They had crippled three cruisers and almost won despite the odds. Now it was over.
Dangard loosened his restraints and floated over to her. He placed a reassuring hand on the sergeant’s shoulder. “Do not grieve, Oana. We gave it our best shot.”
A blip suddenly appeared on Oana’s console, startling both her and the captain. Wiping the tears away, she reached forward and typed some commands on her virtual keyboard. Her sadness turned into surprise.
Dangard looked over her shoulder. “What is that?”
Oana used the back of her hand to wipe the remaining tears away. The com-link code on her screen told her it was them, but she just couldn’t believe it. “No, it can’t be.”
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