A Bellicose Dance

by Patrick M J Lozon

  Hell, maybe he was their good luck charm! If they believed it strong enough, it could keep them alive. And that carried a lot of weight.

  He nodded to the group. “If that’s the way you want it. I’ll do my best to live up to your expectations, but sure as hell don’t expect perfection.”

  The Showmish stood in unison, and each bowed ever so slightly – similar, but exact in meaning, to salute.

  Ryan returned the gesture in full respect.

  “Then Commander it is.”

  * * *

  They approached Signus from six different angles, jumping out of acroluc just behind the cover of the multiple moons and some of the larger asteroids. Their cover was at best, temporary. Coordinated multiple tracing scans passing over their hiding places would have easily exposed the majority of them.

  Signus, this time, was well guarded. There were six destroyers and three slavers in orbit. The cruiser that Ryan had crippled was long gone. Ryan double-checked the tracing image for ghost signatures, just in case. This time both he and Gem agreed they were clear.

  They moved in quickly, the Dancing Queen in the lead. The destroyers caught the bait. Word of his ship must have spread and he was sure that it would be considered a valuable trophy. Five left orbit and went into pursuit. Ryan gave them time to close in, and veered out, away from the system.

  He kept an eye on the tactical. Their five slaverships were converging on the last destroyer, after that they would hit the other slavers. Showmish boarding parties were standing ready for infiltration. The destroyer had not as yet initiated fire on them – they’ve not figured out they were under Showmish control.

  A range proximity warning pulled his attention back. The five destroyers were coming in hot and fast, but he had anticipated this and had studied the area. He knew just where to go. The Dancing Queen was on a tight trajectory between two stars that were less than three million kilometers apart. Skiting a gravity well so close at acroluc was insanely precarious. The gravity wells were already making their presence known, tugging at the ship in opposing directions. Two destroyers were following the same trajectory, while the others broke off pursuit.

  Ryan slowed as much as he dared, wanting them to draw near. He dispatched two missiles hoping they would do some damage. One did, brushing alongside the destroyer's hull, exploding on impact. In normal space, the ship would have suffered only minor damage. But here, the stresses were overbearing. The ship ripped apart, still in acroluc.

  Distortion waves started, ripples first, relatively small, bursting circlets of purple and blue light, churning, jumping. More and more appeared, numbers immeasurable. The waves traveled along the intertwined lines of gravity, as an unstoppable force of chaos. The other destroyer, now in mortal danger, immediately dropped out of acroluc to avoid the encroaching turmoil, only to find the attraction of the star too strong. This ship, like the other, twisted and contorted, and eventually disintegrated to pieces as it fell into the deadly gravity well.

  Tendrils of destruction reached for the Dancing Queen. Lost in a wall of white noise the vaskpar flooded with jumbled chaos, interference dropped his link with the ship.

  Switch to manual. Keep focused.

  A precious millisecond had passed, and the storm was still coming.

  "Gem, could use your help here."

  No use. The vaskpar link was dead.

  He had less than a second.

  Shields to maximum.

  The threat was upon them. The Dancing Queen lunged as her burners were pushed far beyond their designed limits. The anti-gravs, unable to compensate, overloaded successively, each failing over to its redundant twin backup as the ship went through a dance which no human could have ever orchestrated.

  Death fell away, and they were free.

  He opened his eyes and verified what he already knew. Three blips on the tactical, now converging toward him. He pivoted the ship around the nearest star, banking the burners on full, watching the blips scramble to divert, moving at hard angles.

  The vaskpar link recovered. He waited briefly for Gem to vector the trajectory toward a certain small white dot on the tactical, the Dancing Queen was climbing out of the gravity well steadily, leaving the destroyers far behind, fighting an unforgiving force of nature. He had a brief moment to relax. He cut the burners back, allowing the cooling systems to catch up. The course brought the ship directly toward the star. Ryan's plan was sketchy, questionable even, but he was outnumbered.

  "E.T.A. T-minus 33 seconds," reported Gem.

  "..5..4..3..2..1."

  The Dancing Queen jumped out of acroluc, bearing in close around the star. The destroyers were catching up in a hurry and he was waiting for them.

  Come to Papa, you bastards.

  The tracing scan stats came in. Ryan reviewed them, watching the tactical warily. The tell-tale dark spots were there.

  "Modify three missiles for implosion, Ziggy."

  He flipped the Dancing Queen end for end as she plunged toward the star. Self-protection systems engaged. Her cannon withdrew as shielding enclosed over them, and she began to rotate to evenly disperse the radiation they were taking on. Already her wing tips were glowing white hot.

  From the cockpit Ryan watched as the shielding crept closed, blocking off the encroaching picturesque view of hell. He didn’t mind.

  One of the destroyers had been pushing to the maximum and had left the others behind. It was almost in range. The destroyer’s cannon had already started blasting away, but their energy dispersed harmlessly.

  This Captain was a bit too eager for his prize. Then again, he was counting on that.

  And they sunk down even closer.

  "Hull temperature approaching critical limits," reported Gem.

  “Just hold together baby,” urged Ryan.

  The destroyer had just started to rotate.

  They must be baking in there. The thought made him laugh.

  “You starting to feel the rage of God, Captain?” he yelled.

  "Deploy the missiles."

  Again, he was counting on the Dancing Queen’s superior drive. He started to climb, pushing the burners to maximum. The cooling systems were overloading. Ryan diverted all available life-support water to the cooling matrix and vented the super-heated steam.

  A finger of flame erupted from the star. An incredibly powerful explosion triggered by three relatively indiscernible ones. The destroyer was slow to react. Its overheated crew did not appreciate their Captain’s sense of urgency and its drives lacked the raw power needed to push them clear. The gaseous stream engulfed the fleeing vessel and vaporized it in milliseconds.

  The Dancing Queen's course compensated for the predicted path of destruction, riding the edge of the gigantic firestorm, now on course for the nearest planet, a gaseous giant fueled by the sun’s continuous onslaught.

  Ryan checked the tactical. The other destroyers had opted for safety, curving around the star at a higher orbit. They had come around successfully on a vector to overtake. The Dancing Queen, still climbing up the gravity well, was at a disadvantage.

  Gem laid out projections. It would be close.

  "Enemy vessels within weapons range, Captain," reported Gem.

  "Take over evasive, Gem."

  The Dancing Queen lurched as it avoided a missile. The turrets, now on auto-fire, destroyed it as it came around for a second pass. The destroyer’s cannons, however, found their target. Ryan activated the secondary shielding and brought up the overload response systems monitors. A ceaseless barrage of plasma lit up the exterior of the Dancing Queen, without leaving a mark. He watched as the capacitor feeds rose, channeling newfound energy. The updates were working flawlessly. No doubt the destroyer Captains were wondering why their cannon had no effect.

  Next engagement with a cruiser, he’d be ready.

  The planet coming up on the tactical reminded Ryan of Jupiter, with alternating multi-color bands of atmospheric storms. His plan was simple, bring his followers with him as he dov
e down into the hostile atmosphere, then take them out. As usual, reality did not follow to plan. Only one destroyer kept on his tail as the other broke off to maintain high orbit.

  Ryan fought to keep the ship on course. The atmospheric winds moved at cyclonic speeds and kicked the ship around like a toy. Internally, the ride wasn’t much better. He wondered how long they could take this abuse.

  "Tracing scanners operating at 30% efficiency. Too much interference."

  "Captain, I have been requested to relay to you that our passengers are concerned."

  "Tell them to remain calm. We are engaging the enemy."

  He had repositioned the group into the main living section and Ziggy had fabricated chairs with full restraint harnesses.

  He flipped the intercom. "Aviore, are you OK?"

  A soft voice came over, carrying a nervous edge. "Yes, I'm ready in the upper turret. Do you ont me to depoy?" She was hard to understand, as her jaw was braced shut.

  "What the hell are you doing up there! Damn it!"

  "Depoy?" she replied, all but ignoring his outburst.

  "No. Don't deploy, wait until I'm out of this sonofabitching atmosphere!"

  How the hell did she learn about the turrets anyway?

  “Gem?”

  "She asked me, Captain. I saw no reason not to inform her."

  Ryan grunted a distasteful curse and focused his attention on the tactical holograph. He looked for the eye of the storm - a small dark area in the center of the gargantuan hurricane that all but engulfed the northern hemisphere of the planet. He caught glimpses of the destroyer now and then and noticed it had slowed pursuit.

  They must have lost track of him.

  Ryan pulled the ship into the eye and began to descend downward.

  Minutes passed.

  The destroyer started to traverse the storm in a standard grid search pattern and soon started crossing the eye.

  Ryan was ready. The Dancing Queen shot upwards, all cannon blazing. They were too close for their shields to hold long. The blasts penetrated and hit the hull with devastating results. The ship literally split apart - and began to fall. Ryan pulled the Dancing Queen into a spin like a drill, its cannon on wide dispersal. It flew right through the descending, burning wreckage. The roiling horizon fell away, giving way to vacuum and starlight.

  "We're out!" he announced. "Aviore, you can deploy!"

  Aviore, sitting in the gunnery chair, pressed the virtual control on the command console. The turret dome ascended up through the hull, and out into the stars. She rotated the turret and watched as the planet fell away. The turret was a dome of clear ceramic-quartz. It provided a clear line of sight to anything within her 180 degree plane.

  She took a deep breath, primed the cannon, and smiled.

  * * *

  Ryan checked his tactical. The last destroyer was approaching starboard, and fast. He adjusted the incline and locked onto it with the main cannon and began firing. The blasts dispersed over the destroyer's shielding.

  Just a little closer.

  But the destroyer was breaking off.

  "Now, Aviore, Now!" he whispered.

  Turret cannon started firing from amidships. Aviore had the superior angle from on top. The cannon found their mark, penetrating the destroyer's stern. The ship’s primary burner faltered and then she began to lose acceleration. Another secondary burner flamed out. The warship began a slow rotation from the uneven thrust.

  He thumbed the intercom. "Nice shooting, Aviore. Didn’t expect that."

  Ryan maneuvered the Dancing Queen around, aligning the main cannon to the now crippled ship. Although the destroyer was crippled and unable to align its main cannon, it was still able to let loose a barrage from its secondary turrets. The plasma dissipated over the Queen’s shields without issue. Ryan all but ignored their futile attempts.

  "Gem, I'm going to need you to do some tricky shooting for me. You up to it?"

  "Always ready for a good test of my marksmanship, Captain."

  "You know where, right?"

  "Yes, I will be firing on the ship’s next rotation."

  The cannon blasted. A large explosion followed as most of the ship's atmosphere decompressed out of its belly in one tremendous blast.

  "Bad design flaw," he chuckled. "Looks like we have ourselves a Xi-destroyer."

  He hailed the Showmish.

  Captain Roshesh answered. "Commander. All operations were a success. Three slaverships have been boarded and reclaimed. How did you fare?"

  "Good work. I have a destroyer that needs to be boarded, and quickly. Hopefully, you can bring its secondary burners online before it tumbles into this planet's atmosphere. Can you do it?"

  "Dispatching ships immediately."

  "I'll wait for them."

  He thumbed the intercom again. "You can retract back in, that’s it for excitement today, Aviore."

  "OK. I'll be gad when I get dis race off my jaw."

  "Sorry girl, liquid food for a month," he replied with a half-smile. “And you need to rest.”

  “Gem, run a full systems check. This was a rough ride.”

  * * *

  A ragtag fleet moved onto Signus. Any rebuilt Xi-Empire bases were blasted back into dust. This time they made sure no stone was left unturned. The newly captured and half-crippled destroyer was towed into orbit, and the Showmish contended with any surviving crew under Ryan’s direction. Initial assessment of the damage was positive. The ship could be repaired – and the secondary burners were intact enough to manage a landing.

  A few of the Showmish captains were intrigued by Ryan's ability to cripple the Xi-destroyer. But he couldn’t take all the credit. The design flaw had been found by a Xeronian technician long ago. The Xi-Empire had undoubtedly never learned of the inherent weakness as they had never modified the design.

  One well-placed shot into a certain section of the ship would lead to a series of internal explosions, which would cascade and effectively decompress a large portion of the ship, which included the main bridge area. They would ensure this particular weakness was addressed when they restored the vessel.

  Almost all the ships were in need of repairs in one way or another. They needed raw materials, time, and if they could find it, more help.

  They would find it planet-side.

  Ryan coordinated the landing effort, having the first ship set down near the slaverships that he had dragged onto the beach, their hulks were still present although there was no sign of the Signite resistance. He monitored the activity from orbit, watching the events unfold as he had expected.

  At the Xi-bases, unsuspecting Txtians and Xilozaks raced toward the Showmish-claimed ships thinking it a rescue attempt. Showmish militia surprised them, but to their credit, held back on their opportunity to fully massacre the lot. The killing was to be controlled and precise, as Ryan had given explicit orders that as many prisoners were to be taken as possible. With primary targets secured, the remaining ships started streaming down to the surface. Some remained in orbit, with long-range tracing scans set to maximum.

  Ryan brought the Dancing Queen down to rest on the beach adjacent to the others then checked on Aviore.

  She watched as he pulled on his envirosuit and strapped on his blaster.

  "What are you doing?" she asked, trying hard to shape her words carefully.

  "I'm going to talk to our fleet captains and interrogate some prisoners."

  "I don wunt you to."

  He glanced over at her, frowning slightly, "Don't worry, I'll be fine." He could tell she was sore, the metal brace around her jaw was uncomfortable at best, and she definitely needed more rest.

  "It’s safe enough, and you need more rest."

  "I want to go wit you."

  "No. You are still too sick. Look at you, you're a mess. Your hands are all bandaged, you're wrapped like a mummy. Your jaw is wired together. You are recovering from some substantial internal injuries. You shouldn't even be walking!"

  She knew he was t
elling the truth. She was tired, and maybe it was foolish to get in that turret, but she had to help. She gave him a hug, and couldn't resist kissing him despite the brace.

  "Hey, you’re the one who finished off that destroyer. That was a hell’ve shot by-the-way."

  She tried to suppress a smile – as it hurt.

  "Come on.” He gently helped her onto the bed. “I won’t be long, and you need to get your strength back."

  She complied, a bit frustrated but utterly exhausted just the same.

  * * *

  Ryan met with his passengers and they were full of questions.

  "Just what the hell's been going on up there? We've been bounced around like basketballs in here."

  "I think I've fractured my wrist," announced one of the women.

  "I'll get Ziggy to look at that for you. We've been in a few... ah... conflicts. We have now landed on Signus. Everyone is welcome to exit the ship and enjoy the fresh air. Please, come with me." He glanced back to the robot. “Don’t just stand there, you’re on medical.”

  They arrived at the top of the ramp to see the resistance forces securing the beachfront. Some of the Signites ran past him, onto to the beach, only to fall on their knees and kiss the ground.

  "Should we go too?" asked one of the Earth women. Her accent was thick, possibly Australian.

  "Sure, I would. Just stay on the beach though. Signus is – well was - a beautiful planet. It would be good for all of you to get some fresh air."

  He left them to make up their own minds. The walk on the sand was enjoyable. The sun was bright and hot on his face. The wind was soft and persuasive. The destroyer towered high above, casting a long shadow down the shoreline. The other ships, along with the hulks of the other dead slavers, were lined up like the beached carcasses of gigantic whales.

  The abandoned slavers he had brought down had sunk into the sand considerably, due to their weight. One was at least a third buried into the sand. A storm must have come up. Mother nature tends to swallow up everything given enough time. Even the pyramids of Earth are wearing down. With enough wind, enough rain, enough salt, enough sun, nothing lasts forever.

  He noticed one ship had a few new patches on its hull. Someone had been attempting to rebuild it, probably scavenging parts from the other.