by John Walker
Meagan initiated the connection and leaned her head back, staring out the top of her cockpit. Voices filled her helmet, people on the bridge going about their duties and talking it through in dry, concise detail. Five seconds of listening in on their jobs made her all the more thankful for her own. Even while sitting in the uncomfortable ship for several hours.
“The vessel is approaching, Commander,” Lieutenant Darnell spoke, his voice sounding extra thin over her helmet speakers. “Less than ten minutes to rendezvous.”
“I’m picking up a signal,” Ensign White said, the communications officer. “Some kind of…repeated message.”
“Can you decipher it?” Commander Everly asked. Meagan didn’t know what to think of him. On one hand, he seemed like a warmongering ass but he’d always been fair to the men. He may’ve liked the thrill of battle, the excitement of firing big guns and for that, she couldn’t fault him. Part of why she flew involved the adrenaline rush.
“Working on it,” Ensign White replied. “It’s…strange. Like nothing I’ve seen before.”
“The vessel seems to be reducing speed,” Darnell said. “One quarter light speed…a tenth…they’ve slowed to a crawl.”
“Navigation, confirm,” Everly said.
“Confirmed, sir.” Lieutenant JG Tim Collins piped in. Meagan had no idea how young he was but he must’ve been only a year out of the academy. She only ran into him once. He got lost in the lower decks and found himself in the pilot’s mess. No one looked more out of place. His bookishness and frailty set him apart from the lean, fit fighter jockeys.
“Move to intercept, Redding,” Everly said, “but keep our distance.”
“Aye, sir. Adjusting position.”
“See if we can’t get a parallel course,” Captain Atwell finally spoke up. Now he was a man Meagan respected. He’d been through some serious shit and maintained a calm, even disposition, the type which made him an amiable leader. She’d served on one of his watches before and he’d been nothing short of a great guy. One of the few COs Meagan harbored no complaints about. “Can you get better scans now, Olly? Maybe help Ensign White?”
“Affirmative, sir.” Darnell replied. “The shield’s density I talked about before is just an anomaly of design. Now that we’re closer, our instruments are no longer blocked. Initiating a sweep.”
“Hey, Meagan,” Rudy piped in. “I tapped into visual. Sending them over now. This thing…Jesus, it looks like some kind of…I don’t know…dinnerware.”
“Wow, you’re not supposed to tap signals, man.” Meagan tapped her knee. “But patch it over to me.”
“Yeah, I thought you’d say that. Here you go.”
Meagan squinted as her display lit up. The unknown vessel filled her screen, shiny metal shaped like a teardrop. The sharp end led the way and the turbines in the back looked capable of housing a dozen fighters comfortably. A liquid green light surrounded the hull, their version of an environmental shield.
“What the hell…” Meagan muttered.
“I know, right? It looks like they were concerned with aerodynamics or something.”
“Or that nose is a weapon,” Meagan replied. “God knows it could be. Imagine ramming speed.”
“I’d rather not.” Rudy gasped. “Hey, did you see that?”
Meagan scrutinized her screen. At first, she had no idea what he was talking about but then, she saw it. A massive panel on the side of the ship opened up, marring the perfect, smooth surface. Olly’s voice interrupted her before she could say anything. Apparently, they saw it too and probably had a much better idea of what it meant.
“Report.” Commander Everly spoke up. “What is that?”
“Something’s coming out of it,” Redding said. “Olly, what’re you reading?”
“Um…unmanned drones it looks like…a dozen of them…maybe more. Wait, getting an accurate count…twenty-four, all roughly half the size of our Wasp fighters.” Olly hummed.
“Group Commander Revente, this is Commander Everly. Launch your fighters but tell them to stay close to the ship. No engagement without word from us, understood?”
Revente replied, “understood, Commander. Launching fighters.” A moment later, their own speakers lit up. “Listen up, all fighters prepare for immediate launch. Rules of Engagement are escort only. Do not fire unless you receive a direct order from command. Repeat, you will not fire without an order. Fire them up, ladies and gentlemen. This very well might get interesting.”
“Here we go Rudy.” Meagan shifted her ship from idle to fire up. The pulse drive would reach maximum efficiency in less than twenty seconds. The bombers might take another ten or so but they’d all be out there soon enough. “You sure you’re ready?”
“I’m not the girl here, Meagan,” he teased.
“How was I confused all this time?” Meagan gripped the flight stick and flexed her fingers.
Unmanned drones. She hadn’t fought any of those since the academy. They were wily, able to pull off maneuvers no human pilot could but what they won in squirrelly moves, they lost out on intuition. Human creativity proved victorious over AI controlled crafts seven out of ten times.
Attempts to program them to feel otherwise made too many people nervous. God knows what the AI would do next so they left them dumb. But these weren’t constructed on Earth. They were alien and therefore, might be very different. Depending on their proclivity for victory, if this broke into a fight, it could be a real slug fest.
The burners in her ship made the entire frame rumble. The noise in the hangar hammered at her from all sides, making her head numb. When she reached the cold vacuum of space, all that noise would wash away. One of the only things to bother her came from the silence of the void where only the machines in her ship and the voices of command and fellow pilots were audible.
“Panther one, you are cleared for launch,” the radio tower operator spoke with his calm aplomb. No matter how wild a situation became, those guys always seemed to play it cool. She wondered if they enjoyed some kind of psychological conditioning or if they took some kind of drug. “Godspeed.”
“Thanks, tower.” Meagan patched into her squadron. “Panther wing, get ready to fall out. Follow my lead and stay close to the ship. This is strictly escort so lets not screw this up. Anyone have any questions, you can ask in the air but don’t fire. Our orders are to keep the ship safe and I suppose we’ll know when we’re needed. Until then, let’s get this party started. I’ll see you out there.”
Chapter 5
“Readings, Darnell,” Adam leaned forward as he spoke. “What’re you picking up?”
“It wouldn’t have mattered if I gathered data on the hull before, sir.” Darnell’s fingers flashed over his console, moving with magician like dexterity. “The chemical composition is unknown to all our databases.”
“I’m getting sick of hearing that.” Adam turned to Clea. “Any clue why our information seems woefully inaccurate?”
Clea shrugged. “Perhaps it’s merely brand new, Commander. We didn’t chart every single item in the universe, much as we tried.”
“What about the drones, Olly?” Gray asked. “Are they armed?”
“Yes, sir. They definitely have weapons. They seem to be similar to our own as do their shields. Defensive barriers are generated from the power core located at the center of each. Since people don’t crawl inside, they can be smaller and pack the same punch.”
“Brilliant.” Everly frowned in thought. “But there’s no indication of a power up from the larger ship?”
“If anything, it seems to be powering down. The shields are still up but the engines are off, not even idling. It’s very strange.” Darnell looked over a couple of charts before speaking again. “I’m getting information from the inside. Oxygen, gravity, heat…at least one of their stations is dedicated to life support and while other things are shutting down, that’s still going strong.”
“So there must be people on board,” Gray said. “How’re you able to a
nalyze the atmosphere but not pick up life forms?”
“There’s still some interference,” Olly said, but didn’t sound certain. “The ship’s definitely set up to support life…maybe they’re in a safe room, something lined in a material defying our scans.”
“They might be dead,” Clea added, “depending on how long they’ve been making this journey. The ship must’ve been programmed to stop when another vessel came too close. I suspect the drones are merely a distraction, something to keep enemies from bothering the thing so it can move on its way.”
“Why stop?” Adam shrugged. “It can haul ass, so why risk an engagement?”
Clea tilted her head, observing Adam with her odd, silvery eyes. “A universal similarity concerning starship design is what sub light travel does to the engines. If this ship traveled at top speed, it would be unable to make defensive maneuvers. Inertial dampeners are not sophisticated enough to protect the inhabitants of a vessel from dramatic course changes. It could not respond to any threat.”
“The program stops and deploys defensive measures. Hence the drones and why we’re keeping our distance. Correct, Captain?”
“We have to figure out what the hell’s on board somehow.” Gray scratched his chin. “What do you think will happen if we approach the ship?”
“Something will be blown up,” Clea answered.
“Not as helpful as I’d hoped.” Gray stood, paced toward the screen and clasped his hands behind his back. “If we back off, it’ll likely fire up its engines again and speed off, huh?”
“Yes,” Clea said. “An automated program would analyze the situation, assess the threat, recall the drones and continue its journey.”
“Olly, you talked about shield density,” Gray said. “Can our weapons penetrate it?”
“Yes, sir. What I referred to was how they generated the shield. I made no particular explanation to its defensive capabilities. All I knew then was I couldn’t see past it. Now that we’re here, it’s pretty much a standard environmental barrier. Powerful enough to deflect debris but not designed for combat.”
“And they didn’t boost the power when they stopped?” Everly shook his head. “Why?”
“Those drones might be nastier than we think,” Gray said. “Ensign White, what’s going on with the signal you picked up?”
“I’ve modified Olly’s cypher and added an app of my own,” White replied. “It seems to be some kind of greeting…possibly a hello. I’ll know more in a few minutes.”
“We may not have a few minutes,” Clea muttered.
“What’re your thoughts?” Everly asked Gray.
“I think we need to board it.” Gray contemplated the screen for another long moment in silence. “But I’m damn curious what this signal is. If they’re genuinely aiming for a peaceful communication, then I don’t want to engage. Right now, the only way we’re getting in there involves taking out the drones.”
“Marshall won’t like what we’ve got,” Everly said. “He’s going to want more.”
“C’mon, Agatha,” Gray said to Ensign White. “We need that information.”
“I’m working on it, sir.” White maintained a reserved tone but a hint of nerves colored the tone. “I’m almost there.”
“Can you lock weapons on those things, Redding?” Gray asked.
“Negative, sir. They’re too small and fast for our systems to grab on to.”
“Our ships can take them,” Everly added. “Give the word and I’ll have them engage.”
“Sir, I’ve decrypted the message.” White let out a sigh of relief. “It states Greetings, we are the Caerna. Our home was attacked and destroyed by a dangerous enemy which may come after you. Our crew is in suspended hibernation and may require medical aid. We come in peace and hope you will grant us aid, the few who remain of our race.”
Gray took a deep breath and stared at the screen. Everly’s enthusiasm for attack lost gravity in light of the message but the drones put them at a stalemate. The Behemoth could not assist these people without a potential engagement. Peripherally, he heard Revente report that all fighters were in escort position.
That’s when the drones made a move.
“Sir, the drones seem to be moving in our direction,” Olly said. “We’ve been scanned…and they are closing in.”
“Can you tell if they’re weapons hot?” Everly asked.
“Affirmative, sir.” Olly nodded. “Weapons are powering up.”
“Full shields,” Gray announced. “Give the order to engage.”
“Aye sir.” Everly tapped his tablet. “Revente, your people are go. Take out those drones.”
“Affirmative.” Revente’s voice crackled through the speakers. “We’re on it. Patching all coms through to your station for situation updates.”
Gray turned to Clea. “Here we go.”
“This seems odd.” Clea leaned back in her seat. “Why send a peaceful message then attack? I hope this allows us to gather answers without pushing our hand for an ultimate solution. I’d hate to lose any data their computers may hold concerning the enemy. However, if it starts firing…”
“Yes, I know. We might have to take them down.” Gray scowled at the view port. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that but if it does, I’ll pull the trigger.”
Clea nodded. “Of course.”
Gray turned to Adam. “Let me know when our fighters are combat operational and get me a tactical display. Let’s see if our training paid off, people.”
***
“Panther One, this is Giant control.”
Here it comes, Meagan thought. She saw the drones moving away from their ship, heading toward the Behemoth and figured they’d be ordered to engage. The last member of her wing barely deployed before the message came.
“You are weapons free. Engage at will and do not allow those drones to get within firing range of the Behemoth. Confirm.”
“Confirmed, Giant control.” Meagan brought the others of her wing up on coms. “Okay, everyone. We’ve got the green light. Form up and spread out. Don’t give them a cluster to fire into and remember your simulations against AI opponents. Should come in handy against these things.”
A series of affirmation came from her wing and she grinned inwardly. She’d been working with these folks for over a year, knew them all down to their families, hopes and dreams. Each of them proved to be exceptional pilots and Earth command training made them better. She gladly put her life in their hands and as a result, she endeavored to be the first to deploy, the last to return.
“Squadron Leader Tauran here, Ma’am.” Meagan’s second, Mick Tauran, proved to be a solid leader but she knew what he had to say. They deployed seven Wasps and Rudy’s bomber wing. Twenty-four drones sounded like a tough enemy to brawl. “Are we launching additional fighters?”
“Giant control, this is Panther One,” Meagan adjusted her course and the rest of her wing followed suit. They started toward the drones, a trip that would take a good five minutes before they’d meet up. “Are we expecting some backup?”
“Be advised,” Giant control replied, “Three more wings will be deployed momentarily. ETA to your position, three minutes.”
“There you go, Panther Two,” Meagan said. “We’ll have plenty of help before the shooting starts. Everyone fire up the weapons and the second you have range, you take a shot. I don’t want anyone getting bright ideas of closing distance. Use your superior range to our advantage and don’t forget, these machines don’t care if they get hit. You do. No unnecessary risks.”
Scans showed the launches behind her as the Behemoth let fly additional fighters. Hers was the point of the spear and the others would work to flank the enemy, crushing them in the center of an open space kill box. Whether the larger ship would intervene or not, she refused to guess but a bigger concern came from whether there were more drones or not.
The last thing she wanted was to enter a brawl with over a hundred of those things.
Giant control sent
out what data they had to the pilots just after they cleared the hangar. They were predictably maneuverable with equivalent weapons but smaller. They’d be a pain to target but her folks practiced this exact scenario. No combat situation felt sure but this one seemed as close to it as humanly possible.
“Panther One, be advised.” Estaban’s voice sounded alien when he got all professional. It drove her nuts but they had to follow protocol. “You are twenty-seconds from maximum missile range.”
“Giant control, acknowledged. Our scans show us the same thing. Shields are maxed. Here we go.”
Fighter violence tended to be carefully controlled chaos. Movement, firing, and maintaining any sense of discipline had to come as second nature or rate of survival dropped by sixty percent. Whatever statistician came up with that number probably needed a dose of humanity but she couldn’t argue.
“Locking missiles,” Panther Four spoke up, Leslie Eddings. She always took the lead in simulations. Fantastic pilot, definitely a future leader. The others followed suit, rattling off a chorus of attack plans.
“Panther One, on your mark,” Mick said. “We’re ready.”
“Fire and engage. Stick to your wingman and cover each other.” A barrage of missiles detached from their vessels, hurtling toward the drones at blinding speed. None of them waited for explosions or contacts. They veered away, two at a time, to gain an advantage in the engagement.
Life became instinct and feedback to Giant control came as second nature. Meagan barely noticed she spoke as she slammed the throttle forward and pulled her ship into a climb. Panther Two stayed close by on the starboard side, meeting her maneuvers as if they were possessed of a symbiotic link. Scans gave her a countdown for when to adjust course for an attack vector, a chance to take a shot at the first of the drones.
“Panther Wing, be advised,” Giant control announced. “Initial volley of missiles proved effective against their shields. Splash one through five.”
Meagan felt a wave of relief. They had no idea if their weapons would even work on the enemy. Now that they proved to be just like them, wonder left the floor. Now they just had to engage in a by the numbers dogfight, something they’d all encountered more than once in their careers.