Denver sat in what was left of Chuy’s gunnery position and explained what they were about to do. Willy spoke up first. “I don’t know how much more of this hero shit I can stand.”
“Ditto,” said Tyron.
“I know what you mean guys. We’ve been pushing our luck on this mission. I’ll ask for a bigger bonus.”
The ship looped rapidly over the south pole of the tiny planet, missed the expanding debris field of the ship at L5 and came up behind the ship that had orbited the sun. At five kilometers Denver opened up with his missiles and Willy opened up with his.
“Coming about,” Denver heard in his headset.
“Denver, do you want me to empty it?” asked Tyron over the gunners’ intercom.
“Affirmative, let it all out.”
“I was starting to feel left out.” Tyron began firing right up the enemy ship’s nozzles as soon as he got the targeting crosshairs on them. Soon parts started flying off in all directions. “I’m out of missiles.”
“Sir, the gunners have shot all we’ve got,” said Smith.
“Understood.” The skipper reached up and hit the buttons. This launched them off through the star system at dizzying speed. The transport ship was waiting.
* * * *
As soon as they landed, a medical team of humans clambered aboard and picked up both the rescued aliens and Chuy. Teams of men started replacing the missiles they had launched.
“Commander, I think we should go outside and inspect the damage before we sail back into that mess,” insisted the skipper.
“I was thinking about that myself. Let’s go.”
The ship looked like it had been in a catfight, all scratched up. Chief was already in touch with maintenance requesting more filler. Chuy’s pod would need to be completely replaced.
“Better not even use it. Just fill it as best you can and we will worry about it later,” said the skipper.
“We can leave it depressurized as well if you like,” added Chief.
“I think so,” responded du Bois. “Commander, your man’s idea about pre-breathing oxygen probably saved his gunner’s life.”
“You are most likely right. How do you feel about working with them now?”
“I’ll have to reevaluate that. Did the information we were transmitting get to the jump ship?”
“Good question,” responded Fitz. “Hang on, I’ll check.” He took his headset off and replaced his headband.
“Oh wow!”
“Oh wow?” asked the skipper.
He removed the headband. “The People have never seen anything like this. They are all over it. Stand by.”
After a few minutes with only exaggerated facial expressions the crew could almost read, he removed the headband. “Yes, they’ve got it all.”
“I get the feeling that we are rewriting all the tactical manuals as we go along,” said the skipper.
“Yeah, me too. How long will it take to get the ship ready to fight again?” asked Fitzpatrick.
“They’ll have it reloaded within the hour. How soon we’ll be back in full-up fighting condition is anybody’s guess. I’m already worried about other captains who might want to use her for spare parts,” said duBois.
“You might have to post guards,” joked Fitz.
“How’s our alien holding up? Is he going to be able to go back in with us or should we leave him here?” asked duBois.
“Good question. I’d better check in on him.” Fitz went back aboard the ship.
About that time, Denver returned from the aid station. “Is your man going to be all right?” called du Bois.
Denver changed his direction and went over to him. “Yes sir, he’s going to be okay. He’s lucky to be all in one piece,” he said surveying the damage. “Oh man. It’s a wonder this thing held together. It’s a mess.”
Then he added, “We going to be okay going back out?”
“Good question, but considering the situation, what choice do we have? I just hope we can get through that debris field,” said the skipper.
“Could we move through it slow enough that the smaller pieces won’t hurt us?” Smith asked.
“Possibly, but the field generator should move all the smaller ones out of the way. Hmmm. Maybe if we go slowly enough, we can even move some of the big ones. That’s something to consider. Go check in with the FO to see what he can get on the debris field.”
“Yes, sir.” He headed off. He found the FO at his station frantically working on the computer.
“Sir, how’s it going?”
The FO didn’t look up. “Pretty good, why do you ask?”
“The skipper sent me to find you. He is interested in what the debris field might be doing.”
“Doing, it’s expanding of course.”
“I’ll tell him.”
“He sent you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, here’s what I’ve got so far. The planet is starting to sweep up much of the field from the carrier. I cannot find the alien ship. All the enemy ships are out of commission, but they might still be able to fire and create more debris.”
“That was an interesting tactic, especially when faced with much better technology,” added Smith.
“I never thought of it that way. I just figured them for mindless lizards.”
That seems to be a problem with you guys; Denver thought to himself. Must have something to do with being brought up in a bubble, but he didn’t say anything. The attitude problem of the Captain Nemo faction will have to be addressed eventually. But, hey it ain’t my job.
“What would you like me to tell the skipper, sir?”
“It will be dicey, but I think we can get in near enough to place the nuke without getting chopped full of holes ourselves.”
Denver met the skipper and Fitz on the way out. “The FO thinks we can get in and plant the nuke. It won’t be easy, though.”
Turning to Fitz, du Bois said, “What on this mission has been?”
He laughed, “Not much.” Then to Smith, “Your people ready?”
“We’ll be ready by the time the loading is done. I was just on my way from the aid station to check on them.”
“How’s your man doing?”
“He’ll heal. He’s resting now. How’s the alien holding up?”
“He’s very excitable, but I think he’ll be all right.”
“Commander, are we taking him back out with us?” asked du Bois.
“He wants to go. Besides, he’s something of a celebrity.”
“Celebrity?” asked Denver.
“They haven’t had any one of The People involved in an armed conflict for centuries. He’s created quite a stir.”
“I wonder how the enemies of this operation are going to take it,” wondered du Bois aloud.
The three men exchanged glances. They knew there were those who wanted nothing to do with armed conflict no matter the cost.
“I’d better see about my gunners.”
* * * *
He found his men eating which came as no surprise.
“Hey Denver, over here.” They were in what looked for the entire world like a food court in a shopping mall. This was in the area of the transport ship frequented by humans, Captain Nemo humans.
“How’s Chuy?” asked Willy.
“They patched him up pretty good. He’ll be okay.” He took a moment to look around and added, “Quite a setup they got here.”
“Yeah,” chimed Tyron, “have you seen the chicks?”
“Only at the aid center and loading missiles. Which reminds me, we have about another half hour. I want to get set up and ready to go.”
“We’re ready,” said Willy.
“Great, we’ll have some stories to tell when we get back. Now, what’s this supposed to be, pizza?�
�
“Well sorta,’ that’s what we make of it. Nothing like Chicago, you understand, but if you’re hungry enough. Dig in,” grinned Willy.
“Thanks.” Only now did Denver realize how hungry he was. Between mouthfuls, he added, “I don’t think the chicks here would be too interested in us.”
“Why?” asked Tyron.
“Well, I’ve noticed a certain attitude among some of the other humans.” He quickly corrected himself. “I guess we’re the other humans.”
“You’re joking,” said Tyron with incredulity. “They got that shit out here too?”
“By the time this mission’s over, they’ll be kissing our asses,” added Willy.
“You damn right,” said Denver and the three of them clinked glasses of amber liquid. Sadly, it was not beer.
* * * *
A short time later. “Your people in position, Mr. Smith?”
“Yes sir, I’ve checked with both of them. Guns are ready to go.”
“Lieutenant du Bois, take us back to the fight.”
Chapter 16: When Winning is Losing
The spacecraft accelerated and shot toward the objective planet at blinding speed. The ship that led the planet in its orbit was smoking and starting to roll. Denver fired one more missile at it as they swept past. They were close enough to see the ship as it began to explode due to secondaries.
The ship on the outside tried to come about to expose its missile launchers, but only managed to expose its flank to fire. The starboard gunner raked it, and Denver sent two more missiles into its midsection.
“This is almost too easy,” shouted Tyron into his mic.
“Take it easy, we haven’t gotten to the main event yet,” said Denver.
“That last ship should be able to give us a run for our money,” said Fitz.
He was more right than he had imagined. As they came around the planet, missiles were everywhere and started popping off randomly so that it was hard to know where to run.
“Think they were ready for us?” asked the FO.
The skipper did not answer. He was too busy dodging flak and missiles which would light up unexpectedly and head for his ship from various distances and directions.
“There’s one coming from underneath,” said Denver excitedly, “where we don’t have protection.”
“Hang on,” said du Bois. He rolled the ship so that its port and the top gun could track the incoming. Willy got it, but debris kept coming. The pilot rolled again to keep the top gun bubble away from what was coming and yanked hard. He managed not to tear the stick off, but just barely. He also missed the worst of it, but the blast wave of ultra-tiny particles could not be avoided.
The field generator was working overtime to keep things steady, but Denver wanted to heave. He bit down the bile and concentrated on this screen. “Commander, number four is within range.”
“Fire!”
“She’s away.” The ship shook, with the first one, and then two, and three, and four. They waited. The Reptilian ship suddenly exploded amidships. Fires lanced out, then went out as the vacuum of space replaced life-giving oxygen. It was hard not to think about sentient beings on board the spacecraft. He forced it from his mind.
The hulk of the battleship, now burned and blackened, blocked out the stars. Chief spoke up. “Sir, I think I’ve got it.”
The CO brought it up on his screen. “I believe you’re right. Skipper, I’m sending you the data.”
“Sir, I think the one at L5 might still have some fight left in her,” said Denver.
“Why do you say that?”
“They’re swinging about, to expose the missile launchers on the port side.”
“That must mean the starboard is out of commission. We need to take care of this first, but I don’t want to leave that thing in reparable condition.”
“Ouch! Try to stay calm! What is it?” He paused mouthing the words as they came across from the alien.
“Terrific. Boys we’re going to have company. We only have a couple of hours, max. The aliens on the transport ship are screaming their bubbleheads off. There is a relief fleet that just dropped into real space.” He removed the headband and chewed a pain reliever.
Chief spoke up. “L5 is launching missiles.”
“Skipper, get me to that alien ship. Chief I need you and Smith in suits. Come with me.”
Fitz helped both men with their suits and tethered them together. “There is no time to teach Smith how to use the thrust pack. He’ll have to be towed. Get to this port and attach this.” He handed Denver a large multi-pronged cylinder with a connection on the end while the hologram indicated where to place it.
“Make sure you connect it here or it will come off. The trick is there are no places to hang on. Open the port, plug it in, and turn these outward until it locks. Any questions?”
“Why this setup? Seems complicated,” said Smith.
“If you try to turn something while floating around in orbit, it will turn you in the opposite direction. Using the connection like this, you are pushing against yourself. Not only does it make a data link, it holds it in place, two for one you might say.”
“What’s this going to do for us?”
“Our resident alien will be able to maneuver the ship enough for us to dock with it.”
“Sir, I don’t think we will be able to escape dragging this thing through space,” said Chief.
“We’re not going to. We are going to destroy it and the carrier with the same nuke.”
“Just haul it over there, secure it, and set it off; from a safe distance I hope,” added Chief.
“Sir, can we set it off remotely?” queried Smith.
“Yes, that’s the plan. Why?”
“Sure would be nice if we could wait till the relief ships get close enough to be destroyed in the blast as well.”
“Now that’s an idea, Smith. I’ll take it up with our guest. How long until we get to the alien ship?” he asked over the com.
“We’re already there. It is slowly spinning,” responded the FO.
“You’re all hooked up and ready to go.”
“You still need to close your visor Smith. That’s what we get for rushing the checklist,” cautioned Chief.
“Can you go kill that other ship while we do this? We don’t have much time.”
“And leave us here!” complained Chief.
“I don’t know. There’s a lot of debris. After this last set of missiles goes off, there will be more. We might not get back to you,” replied Fitz.
The FO intervened into the conversation. “Sir, the missiles have broken into two groups.”
“Two groups, what are you talking about?”
“One is coming around the back side of the planet, and the other is coming around to our side.”
“Acknowledged. They must have some idea of what mischief we’re up to. Okay, you two in the airlock. I’ll work on this while you’re outside. Work quickly.”
As the two men shuffled into the airlock, Chief said, “Still think they should go off and come back for us later?”
“I wonder if we could fly that thing.” Both of them looked at him as though he had finally lost it. Smith saw their expressions, “Maybe not.”
With missiles flying around two sides of the planet and an enemy fleet of unknown size dropping into real space, it seemed like an awfully long time till they got to the slowly spinning craft. Trying to open the port when there were no handholds was a chore in itself.
Chief had connected the suits and was trying to hold them steady while Denver tugged at the stubborn cover. Sweat collected in his eyes and burned. The sweating made him curse, which was a bad habit he had picked up since joining the legion.
It snapped free. “Give it to me. It’s open,” panted Smith. Chief slid the bulky piece of equipment
up under his right side.
“Don’t drop it.”
“Push me back. Take the two handles,” he said out loud to himself and push, and push again. It won’t go in.”
“Hold tight, I’m going to jam you in.” Chief hit his little thrusters.
“Oomph!” The wind was knocked out of Smith. “Well that did it, but we bounced right back out.”
Over the radio, “Gentlemen, we’re running out of time.”
“Get me back in there, slower this time and don’t stop pushing.”
Chief pushed him back into the ship. One hookup caught while the other hit the edge and slipped off.
“You want me to stop?”
“No, keep pushing.” The thrust was small. With his left elbow, Smith pushed off and managed to get the other catch on the prong. With all his strength, he twisted the knobs in opposite directions. He felt, rather than heard the clicks as the instrument locked into place. “Get us out of here Chief.”
They made for the tiny ship. Over the radio, they heard, “Missiles exploding.”
Fitz came on. “Get back here. We’ve got a wall of debris coming at us.”
It would swing around the planet locked in its gravity field and destroy anything it hit at those speeds. Never had it taken so long to cross such a short distance. Finally within the field, they clunked aboard the ship. Denver fell and slammed down hard on the airlock deck behind Chief.
Chief closed the outer hatch and repressurized. As he opened the inner door, he turned to find Smith on his back. He reached down and flipped him over. “Don’t just lie there, there’s still work to do.”
“Right.”
They stripped out of the suits and let them fall to the floor. Smith closed the inner door. “Don’t want to leave this open.” They raced back to the flight deck.
On the screen, they could see the tiny alien ship maneuvering closer to them. The alien was flying it.
“Why don’t you just let him fly it out?” asked Chief.
“The main power source is not responding according to the alien. All we need to do is dock with it and drag it over to the carrier.”
Hell Fighters from Earth Page 22