He would have to move quickly now as the slavers were getting ready to depart. At this range, the missiles would easily slip through the destroyer’s short-range tracing arrays. By the time they completed a confirmation sweep they would already be within lethal range of their targets. Only blind luck would save them.
"Gem, do you believe in luck?"
"I am familiar with the concept of statistical significance being altered."
"So, yes? Really? You surprise me sometimes. Do you realize that? Anyway, cross your fingers – or what have you."
Ryan took a deep breath and deployed the missiles, each destined for a destroyer. He waited only a second before pulling the Dancing Queen from its lair, high acceleration, palms sweaty, heart pounding in his temples.
As expected, the destroyers didn't have time to react. The missiles bore through their antimatter shielding effortlessly, warping their protective shields just enough to allow them to reach the outer hulls and explode. Two bursts, intense as the sun, lit the heavens. The blast radius expanded to engulf a number of the nearby slaverships, savagely tearing them apart.
The Dancing Queen was on course to engage with the slaverships. They were already attempting to scatter in disorganized haste but fell prey to his intense, precise cannon bursts. Main drives shredded into misshapen fragments, alive with hues of color, as briefly surviving infernos faded to darkness.
A second volley and then a third. All three of the laden ships floated on, severely crippled and helpless. Behind the Dancing Queen, the remaining slaverships were going on the offensive.
Ryan flipped the ship and maximized the rear burners. The Dancing Queen shot toward Signus, as the collection of slavers were rushing out to aid their fallen sister ships.
Ryan started a barrage of cannon bursts. A wall of deadly plasma burned into the oncoming ships. A particularly able Captain managed to avoid the onslaught, quickly pulling his ship out of range and then maneuvering to fall in behind the Queen. The slaver began its own suppressive firing. Ryan reacted, dropping down into the Signus atmosphere. His pursuer followed, and two others joined in the chase.
The Dancing Queen's streamlined design allowed her to maneuver through the atmosphere with grace, combating friction easily in comparison to the large, clumsy slavers. As Ryan guided her down, targeting statistics fed directly into his mind. He made a slight adjustment to his course, and the tail cannon found its first target, blasting a lethal blow into the pursuer's midsection. The slavership fell to the surface, leaving a trail of thick, black smoke behind. The others, coming in from oblique angles, spread a volley of bursts at the Queen. Ryan pulled the ship through and up the tower of black smoke, briefly following the pillar, climbing above the pursuing ships under cover. The maneuver left him at a distinct advantage. The other ships did not take long to realize his position, but their main cannon were momentarily diverted as they struggled to follow. He turned and dived, splaying out his own volley of blasts directly into both. One exploded into fragments, another careened off, critically damaged, and fell rapidly. It hit the surface with such savage force that it disintegrated into a ball of fire.
Ryan refocused his attention on tactical feeds. Mental images swarmed through his vaskpar. Three slavers left – one still actively filling its holds with slaves. Strangely, none had jumped to acroluc.
Arrogant enough to wait for the outcome of the battle. Typical. A fatal mistake.
He pulled the Dancing Queen up and out of the atmosphere and back into frictionless space catching up with his new targets easily. Their underpowered drives and overextended mass restricted their acceleration.
He was sure they were regretting their overconfidence as they scattered in obvious haste to avoid their unknown assailant.
Ryan dispatched a missile. Unhindered by biological passengers, it accelerated past the retreating slaverships and detonated well ahead of them. The ships veered away, avoiding the destructive blast. They would have to recalculate new vectors, and this provided a brief delay in their jump to acroluc.
"Captain, we now have definite resolution of a Xi-Empire cruiser approaching on an interception course."
"A cruiser? How the hell did we miss that?"
"The initial tracings did pick up it. However, the image was poor and we chose to ignore it."
"E.T.A and course?"
"3.5 minutes, and for all intents and purposes, dead ahead."
"So that is where they are headed," Ryan muttered to himself. "Running to mamma. But they won't make it." He targeted the first with the forward cannon. The alignment systems took over, locked, and fired. The ship faltered - direct hit in the central power conduits. With its main drive useless it coasted in the vacuum, defeated and crippled. Something exploded from the stern, and the ship started spinning.
The Dancing Queen shot by leaving it behind.
Two ships left.
The slaverships’ antimatter shielding were each glowing bright blue. They were preparing to jump. But the Dancing Queen was almost on top of them now, and well within range. He fired again, this time with both long and short-range cannon simultaneously. The blasts of the two cannon worked in tandem. The short-range pounded the slavers’ shielding, effectively overloading their systems, disintegrating their capacitors and wreaking general havoc internally. The blasts from the long-range cannon ripped into their hulls with measured precision, cutting through their engineering decks.
They were finished. Now Ryan had a bigger problem to worry about: the Xi-Empire cruiser closing in.
"Ziggy, ready five missiles. I want them deployed dormant."
"One minute until interception," announced Gem.
Ryan set them for remote activation and pulled the Dancing Queen 90 degrees from their present course, quickly firing the deadly payload out into space. "Gem, lock on those missile signals and stand ready to activate."
The magnificent cruiser appeared like a ghost, dropping out of acroluc in a silent scream of power. The two ships were just kilometers from one another. Unmercifully, Gem activated the four missiles that were in range. As they shot toward the cruiser's hull the giant vessel's shielding sublimed the weapons before they could detonate. Immediately the warship brought its cannon array to bear upon the Dancing Queen. Ryan yanked her around, just avoiding a decimating barrage of disruptor blasts. A stray shot made partial contact with his hull shielding. The port wing was briefly enveloped in a blue-violet haze. The shields held, however, and the damage from the menacing salvo was limited to turning part of the Dancing Queen's white hull to a dull black. Ryan reviewed the stats: the capacitors had nearly peaked containment with that single shot.
"Damn it, that was close! I need some info on this thing."
It came up immediately, a background vaskpar voice began a familiar murmuring directly into his mind. He brought the Dancing Queen around again barely avoiding another volley.
"It has a weakness, where is it?"
"Information is limited. This is a modified version of a cruiser-class warship. Scans indicate known targeting areas have been upgraded.”
“Then find one that hasn’t.”
“There is one possibility - the rear burner plates near the cooling channels."
"Possible? Aren't you sure?"
"Insufficient information - it is a guess."
"Gem, those burners can handle intense, concentrated blasts. The shots will disperse. It'll be like firing into the sun."
"A missile will penetrate successfully."
"Yes, if it doesn't get vaporized first."
Ryan had the Dancing Queen moving perpendicular to his previous course, jumping away at maximum burner acceleration. The gigantic cruiser, with its imposing mass, was still attempting to intercept, but it was much slower. Its weapons systems, however, were not as restricted. In a few more seconds it would be in position, yet again, to pound them into dust.
"Ziggy, ready another five missiles."
"That will deplete our current stores. Just to remind you -
there is still one inactivate missile remaining."
"That's right. Of course, that's it! Gem, be ready to lock on and wake that missile. We’ll let that big bastard chase us right by our little surprise. When it gets into range, nail it in the ass. They won't see it coming."
The distance between the two ships began to close. The Xi-Empire cruiser's cannon were firing heatedly. Walls of white and blue lit up the dark vacuum of space around the Dancing Queen. Ryan pulled the ship into a full 180 degree reversal. The forward burner reaction plates lit up the cockpit with intense brilliance even though the quartz filters compensated to keep the radiation to a minimum.
The cruiser readjusted its course quickly, maintaining pursuit.
Another direct volley into the Dancing Queen's shields could be fatal. The ship’s shielding was not built to channel that much energy.
"The enemy is within optimum target range. Activating missile," reported Gem.
Ryan flipped the ship end for end and pulled the nose a further 60 degrees, bringing the main burners to maximum thrust. She jumped ahead as the cruiser attempted to correct its course. The monitors told the story. As the missile hit and explosions rippled through the rear of the cruiser, blowing out seals and its interior contents into the blackness of space, including some crew. Parts of the outer hull glowed to white hot as a chain reaction fired through the drive systems, demolishing bulkheads and contorting the massive ship’s back as tremendous forces pushed and pulled at the spectacular vessel. In a brief second the cruiser's main drive was obliterated along with a large portion of its stern.
"She's not going anywhere now," chuckled Ryan. He checked his tactical. The slavers were still floating aimlessly in space.
The cruiser sat helpless before him, its main drives obliterated, all power systems down, fires billowing throughout its corridors. A couple well-placed cannon shots would end it permanently.
“Captain, I do believe the prisoners within the slaverships are in duress,” reported Gem.
Ryan moved his finger off the trigger. More important work to do now.
He maneuvered the scarred Dancing Queen to intercept the closest crippled slavership.
"Gem, open a channel with that slaver."
"They could attempt a hostage negotiation."
"Maybe, let’s see."
To Ryan's surprise, they responded. What should he say? Keep it short and precise. He thumbed the communications relay.
"Slaver crew, cooperate and you will live." He dropped the link.
"That's it?" asked Gem.
"What do you want, a speech?" retorted Ryan. "Can you do a structural integrity analysis from the tracings?"
The report flooded in over his vaskpar, design details of the slaver, from bow to stern, all supplied via the Xeronian intelligence libraries. Key attachment locations were revealed.
Ryan deployed the grav lines. "Gem, how powerful do you think these grav lines are?"
"Do you wish torque and shearing strength ratings or an electro-gravimetric statistics?"
"No, just tell me they'll hold if I bring this ship down onto the planet's surface."
"The load will surely exceed maximum tolerances."
"That’s what I thought, but I've decided that they'll hold."
"How do you know this?" Gem asked curiously.
"I have a gut feeling."
"I hope your gut is more accurate than my calculations," replied Gem dubiously.
“It’s the only way I can think of to get our fellow Signite prisoners back to safety unless you have another idea?”
“You could board the ship, locate and pilot the shuttle.”
“Not enough time.”
“You will be exceeding calculated limits marginally. Deploy extra grav lines and that should alleviate the concern of failure.”
Ryan deployed additional lines, each finding a firm locking position on the hull. With the slavership in tow, they headed toward the planet. The extra burden seeming negligible to the Dancing Queen but that would soon change with the added pull of gravity.
The planet's sun, a yellow dwarf, glared white-hot in space, bathing the day-side of the planet in life-giving warmth. The view from above revealed vast oceans with masses of connected continents, reflecting back a whole spectrum of greens and browns.
“Amazing. Looks a lot like Earth from up here, all you need to do is rearrange the continents a little,” stated Ryan out loud. He knew he couldn’t enjoy the scenery long. They were descending into the atmosphere at a faster than recommended speed. The dead weight of slavership was pulling tenaciously on the Dancing Queen now. She battled to compensate as Ryan struggled to balance the ship's thrust against overstressing the grav lines. Knowing it was going to be close, he guided the ship in over an ocean in hopes the water would cushion the impact of the descent.
They sank down into the atmosphere, Ryan desperately attempting to slow their descent speed enough to bring it to a full stop before making contact with the surface. The slaver hit, plunging down into the depths, pulling the Dancing Queen down with it. Ryan adjusted frantically, managing to stop the descent just meters above the surface of the water. He held the Dancing Queen there, momentarily in a hover, and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He wiped the palms of his shaking hands.
"Well, there you go, Gem. Instinct over mathematics. Checkmate."
He proceeded to pull the larger craft up and out of the water and headed toward the nearest land. The slaver had taken on water and had gained substantial weight, but with Ryan's gentle coaxing, the Dancing Queen managed to skim its burden along the water’s surface, leaving an intermittent wake behind. Within a minute they reached land and managed to drag the vessel up onto the beach.
He detached the grav lines, quickly checking the monitors. The slavership imparted an unusual contrast, a black towering pillar of technology, strewn upon the pearl-white sands of a natural shoreline. Torrents of water poured out of it from the breached areas of its hull.
"Let’s hope we have survivors in there. No time to wait and see. That’s only one ship and there’s more to go," he stated with satisfaction, then quickly guided the Queen up to retrieve the next. He followed the same procedure. The grav lines held each time.
Four ships, four trips, each successful. Four carcasses of slaverships now rested on the beach, each full of Signite abductees.
He could attempt to board the ships, take out any remaining crew, and free the slaves. Or possibly, a better plan was to locate and destroy the newly formed Xi-Empire military bases and help the Signites reclaim their planet. Let them do the dirty work of reclaiming their people. As this planet was a recent conquest, the Empire hadn’t had time to build their usual vast fortified defenses.
It was doable.
He bounced his idea off Gem.
“Yes, the Signites should be able to regain control, at least on the surface - assuming there are any resistance left.”
“Anybody ever tell you that you are incredibly positive?”
They proceeded to scan the area, hunt down the bases, and then systematically blast them into open craters. A few of Signite resistance fighters waved at him as he passed. To them, the graceful white ship was an angel of retribution.
The exercise took hours to complete. Once complete Ryan returned to the beach. A stream of people were making their way out of the many air locks within the ship using makeshift ropes of clothing and materials to traverse the distance to the ground. Those that were lucky enough to reach the safety of solid footing found they were easy prey for a group of surviving Xi-Empire troopers. The unmerciful troops had littered the white beach with the blood of Signite men and women. Luckily, some of the resistance had arrived at the scene and were pushing the rogue aliens into a tight circle. The troops had dug in under a cover of rock and driftwood and remained steadfast between the escaping slaves and the encroaching rebels.
Ryan wasted no time putting the Dancing Queen's cannon to work with a number of precise, low-in
tensity bursts. The alien invaders disappeared in a shower of sand, fire, and blood. He watched from above as the rebels stormed onto the beach in hordes, waving their weapons and blasting at anything left moving.
He came up close to each of the wrecks and checked their hulls, searching for any identification, any familiar symbols. None showed the vaguely familiar markings of the Xabuntz II.
Yeah, it was a long shot. Was that dream real or was it a collection of haphazard, manufactured images with no relevance to reality? He had nothing else. The contents of that Xeronian vile had given him something - an experience he would never forget. And it gave him knowledge that there were things about this universe he could never understand. That fed his hope.
He scanned the beach area one more time. The rebels were already setting up camp and were busily shepherding others from the massive hulks of the slavers.
They clearly didn’t need him.
Pulling the Dancing Queen into a vertical climb, he left the picturesque planet behind. As he passed beyond the third planet, the tactical scans revealed the cruiser, still drifting, still totally crippled. It was only then that he remembered Tseman’s words: Zorlog was on that ship.
Maybe if it had been any other Xilozak, any other Captain of the Xi-Empire, he would have just pointed the Queen to Xilo and moved on.
But it wasn't.
Thoughts were churning within his mind. He rubbed the scar on his forehead, remembering the last glint of metal, the vicious strike. He should move in right now and destroy her. No, that would be too easy. Perhaps the embarrassment of failure would do him more damage.
Let him suffer one more hit.
* * *
A very angry, very irritable Karvok stood on the deck of the cruiser, yelling out a stream of orders, words muddied with strings of demeaning curses. The ship was slowly recovering. The fires were finally under control, and all decks had been successfully sealed, oxygen and methane levels were down to dangerously low levels - they would have to convert some of the water supply over as soon as possible.
A Bellicose Dance Page 33