Frontline sf-4

by Randolph Lalonde

  She had never met one of his kind that she was aware, and had especially never seen one who was confident or proud enough to actually remain in their native form. His big, expressive eyes and fine collector tendrils with which they gathered moisture and smelled as well as created intricate forms on their faces with to aid with shape shifting were so strange, so unlike anything she'd ever seen. At the same time his mild demeanour made him possibly the most friendly person she'd met in recent years.

  Jason was always on her mind, and no matter how much she liked the crew of the Triton or Samson she always missed him. The topic of Triton going to Pandem had come up, and after very little prodding Laura discovered that getting the hypertransmitter was key to them getting there in much less time than they would if they started out using hyperdrive systems. Laura's suspicions were confirmed; the hypertransmitter would be used to rebuild the main array required to generate high compression wormholes for the Triton. Ease and speed of communications preoccupied Alice as well, there was something important she wanted to tell the galaxy as a whole and Laura suspected it had little to do with their rebellious cause.

  If they managed to complete their mission, if they pulled this off, if they stole the piece of technology they were after, worth over three hundred billion credits they would not only silence one of the most major outlying military and resource rich Regent Galactic solar systems they would fully be connecting Triton to the rest of the Galaxy in a real, meaningful way. They could have real time conversations with anyone in the sector and send messages to Freeground in a matter of minutes using the highest wormhole compression capabilities of that hypertransmitter if it were integrated properly.

  As Laura looked over the bridge, watched Alice and Price going about their final preparations as they neared their target and everyone else handling their near frayed nerves in their own ways she started to believe that they might just pull it off. As the arrival counter hit five seconds Panloo jerked at the helm.

  “Our exit point is blocked!” Announced one of her navigators.

  “Adjusting!” announced the other.

  Panloo manoeuvred the ship the very second before they emerged from hyperspace to avoid a nine kilometre wide asteroid that had been placed exactly where the Triton was to arrive. As the Triton finished decelerating and emerged from hyperspace the tactical display flickered for a moment as it adjusted the entire field of view to account for the unexpected change in course. They were coming around the outer edge, one navigator keeping the silent nafalli helmswoman aware of objects in her path and the best routes through the space ahead.

  Laura's terminal noted that they had collided with three small satellites as Panloo accelerated through an unplanned route well beneath the hypertransmitter. The collisions didn't affect the shields noticeably even though they practically ran through them at over one hundred twelve thousand kilometres per second.

  The ship rotated and they were moving backwards, ingeniously manoeuvring to decelerate enough to compensate for their chaotic arrival and to close the distance between the ship and the hypertransmitter. The transmitter satellite looked like a silver spike on the tactical display, drifting above the dark side of the moon and the vast metropolis below.

  “They knew we were coming,” Alice said under her breath as she highlighted several destroyers and small carrier fleet led by a long command carrier in the distance. There were already over a hundred starfighters moving in for the attack. “Set to contingency one, start moving us out of position,” Alice said calmly.

  “Aye!” Panloo chirped from the controls, increasing the throttle and turning the ship towards the asteroid belly first.

  The shields started taking hits from the planetary defence cannons and the incoming fighters but thanks to new power feeds and the fusion reactors running hotter than ever they started recharging as quickly as they took damage, not dipping below ninety seven percent. Laura hoped that they could maintain that charge but she knew better. Things were about to get interesting. “Tactical, is there a read on what those destroyers are doing?”

  “Opening fire now! They're not using beam weaponry but going straight to high charge gauss shells.” Price told Laura and Alice.

  “What? Did someone tell them we use refractive shielding too?” Laura said as she diverted power from the refractive shielding and shored up the other systems. “Is anything using beam weaponry?”

  “Nothing, not even the Gemeelan, that command carrier, and they have the long range capability,” Agameg replied.

  “How do they know how to exclude weaponry that's easiest for us to overcome? They haven't even seen us use our shielding effectively yet,” Laura said as the first volley of explosive shells came into contact with the gravitational shield. The shells were slowed down suddenly enough to set them off, causing strain on the outer gravity shielding but not touching the hardened energy barrier underneath or the ship. “Outer grav shield strength is down to eighty one percent and decreasing. Those explosions are taxing them just enough so they can't regenerate.”

  “Can you divert more power?” Alice asked.

  “No, the lines can't take it.”

  “Captain, we have to make a decision now; send them out or escape,” Agameg reminded her calmly.

  Captain Valent was difficult to read as she glanced up from her ring of command holograms up the main display on the bridge where the tactical screen showed nine more destroyers trying to manoeuvre into place to begin firing at the Triton.

  “Launch our remaining nuclear torpedoes on the highest yield setting towards the primary population centers on the moon. Gunnery deck, open fire on targets of opportunity with seeker rounds on the fighters, I'm giving officer level quarters to the gunner with the most confirmed kills. Cynthia, open up with our scrambler, let's see how well they coordinate when their wading through forty terawatts of static. Ashley, your team has a go.”

  “There are a billion people down there, I don't think-” one of the Navigators started.

  “There's a planetary defence shield in place and anti-bombardment measures that can easily deflect our nukes. The cities are safe, all we're doing is distracting their planetary cannons for a few seconds!” Alice called back. “Do your job or get the hell off my bridge, Hanson!”

  The navigator turned back to his station, red faced. “Aye ma'am.”

  For the first time Ashley could remember the Samson felt small. It was the only ship on the launch deck of the Triton and as Ashley throttled up and propelled the vessel out into space she watched torpedoes and heavy weapon points on the Triton fire all around her. She knew none of the ordinances would strike the Samson as long as she didn't do anything unpredictable for the next few seconds, but watching heavy, four and a half meter long fusion torpedoes slide by then on towards the heavily populated moon below was almost as frightening as the points of light swarming towards them. She knew each point of light represented a fighter and soon many of those fighters would be after her.

  “Engine pods extended to full, we have as much manoeuvrability as we'll ever get,” Larry told her before scanning for the best routes to their goal, the hypertransmitter several thousand kilometres away. The Triton would only follow them half way.

  “Gunners, target the fighters. Finn, how are my shields?” Ashley asked.

  The sound of thousands of bursts per minute firing off from the gun right behind the small darkened bridge forced everyone to yell. Even with the hatches closed you could hear the turrets, feel the deck vibrating with every shot. “They're charged and giving us an energy halo about four times the size of the ship,” he chuckled. “Looks like the work we put on the new emitter grid is paying off.”

  Fighter rounds started striking the Samson as Ashley flipped the vessel and accelerated as hard as safety limits would allow right towards the asteroid. The navigational advisory hologram in front of her showed that she had chosen perhaps the most dangerous course, but as she operated the hastily bolted in countermeasures control box with her
off hand anyone watching could see what she was doing. “Frost, can you get a solid bead on the hypertransmitter with the ion cannon?”

  “Not happenin' until you get us outta the shadow of this bloody rock.”

  “We'll be leaving it behind sooner than you like.”

  “This is Hardcase, my group is engaging the enemy.” the lead allied Uriel fighter pilot announced over the laser link he had with the Samson. With all the scrambling interfering with communications it was the only way to get a message through. The small holographic display on the left side of the pilot's station showed that he and six other fighters were closely following her course, the Samson's shields were reaching out and fortifying theirs, and while the group accelerated towards the asteroid at great speed they turned and fired at all the approaching fighters and gunships in the area.

  “Shields are holding up, we're recharging at seventy three percent. If we can avoid any serious hits we'll be back up to ninety in four seconds.”

  “Who'da thought this old bucket would end up as a shield ship?” Frost commented.

  “Larry, tell our friends what I'll be doing,” Ashley told her copilot as she prepared a firing sequence for the engine pods, working the switches and computer interface with a practiced hand.

  “All right, we're going to close to within one hundred fifty meters of the asteroid surface and drop a batch of thermal shells. They'll superheat a part of the asteroid, creating a thermal flare behind us so no one will be able to get a good read on us for at least a few seconds.” he said as he sent the escape trajectory to the fighter pilots.

  “Straight out of the Desperate Times in Valera sim, loving it,” Hardcase replied.

  “Breaking in three, two, one, mark!” Ashley called out before initiating the thrust sequence and pressing the launch button on the improvised countermeasures control panel.

  The hull of the Samson and the inertial dampeners strained as the vessel changed direction, narrowly missing one edge of the asteroid as it ejected half a dozen improvised high explosives out of the rear cargo bay. Pressed out by the escaping atmosphere they drifted towards the asteroid and exploded as they bounced against the rough stone.

  Anyone who was looking out a porthole in that direction just then was blinded by the white light of the explosion and superheated surface of the asteroid. The Samson and six of her escorting fighters shot straight for the hypertransmitter, all their weapons turning to the fore.

  To any of the fighters unlucky enough to be in the way it appeared as though the vessels were coming out of a small sun, and for the pair of small enemy fighters that managed to manoeuvre away from the small group of ships there were half a dozen that were picked to pieces by high intensity particle bursts and rail guns that cycled through twelve hundred rounds per minute. “This is Hardcase, all fighters break and get ready to cover the Samson while she picks up the package.”

  The fighter group moved out of the range of the Samson's spiny shield projectors and as the shock and overwhelming attack on the senses of the flares dissipated Finn breathed a sigh of relief as the shield profile shrunk back down to the shape of the Samson itself.

  They immediately began taking fire from their port and dorsal sides, where the bulk of the fighters were milling, swarming to escape the devastating guns on the dorsal side of the Triton. “There you are, time to shut ye down!” Frost exclaimed under his breath as he targeted the hypertransmitter and opened fire with the ion cannon. A fighter got in the way, taking a full blast and as the operation of its internal power systems were completely disrupted the energy reading on it dropped to near zero. “Oi! To the side!” he shouted at the disabled fighter as he pounded the control panel.

  Ashley manoeuvred the Samson around the lazily drifting snub fighter and cringed as she heard small shells strike the outer hull. “Better?”

  “Aye!” Frost replied as he took aim with the Ion turret and set it to full power. With the glimmering silver hypertransmitter satellite, the most valuable object in the area pound for pound, directly lined up in the crosshairs he opened fire and didn't stop until he drained the power cells connected to the weapon. When the halo of energy left behind from the blasts of the Ion cannon subsided the power readings indicated that the device had shut down. “She's asleep! Time to have our way!”

  “I'll never see what Stephanie sees in you,” Ashley commented as she rotated the body of the ship in the direction of the hypertransmitter and fired the engines so they moved in a perfect line towards it. “Fighters, keep our path clear!”

  “Hardcase here, we're on it!”

  Ashley grinned at the pilot she'd seen several times in the pilot's den. He was shorter than her by eleven centimetres and was always smiling. While growing up he had learned to fly an old air hopper and as soon as he got his licence he was transporting parts for a commercial excavation operation. He had a natural knack for all things in the cockpit. After he whipped through the fighter pilot tutorials he passed the qualifier on the first try. Within a week he became one of their top pilots and Ashley had recommended he lead the small group of Uriel fighters covering them.

  Her jaw dropped as the navigational display noted his fighter was destroyed just then, leaving no emergency beacon. She stared at the notification and the display as the profile of his Uriel fighter became just another obstacle, a grouping of heated, twisting metal.

  “Ash, focus,” Larry said from beside her. “We're coming up on it.”

  She cleared her throat and focused on the task at hand, making one final minor adjustment to their course as the remaining three fighters along with the gunners on the Samson fought tooth and nail to keep their path clear. The Samson shook and rocked violently, turning just slightly.

  “Engine three is gone, shields down to eighteen percent, draining our reserves to compensate!” Finn announced.

  “Compensating for the missing pod.” Larry announced beside her.

  “We've rotated too much, turn us back or we'll smash into the satellite side on!” Frost called out.

  Ashley didn't let the controls reset, but manually rotated one of the port engine pods and fired it, guessing at how much thrust they'd need to make a good capture with the maxjack. As the ship slowly rotated she lined up the other pods as quickly as she could to slow the Samson down so it and the satellite wouldn't be destroyed when they made contact. The engines fired at full power. No one knew whether it was enough and as the many controls reset everyone held their breath.

  “We're comin' in too fast!” Frost called out, still standing at the ready at the maxjack controls.

  “It'll have to do!” Ashley said the instant before the Samson collided with the hypertransmitter satellite. The sounds of gunfire were drowned out by the cataclysmic noise of the hull crushing, screeching and grinding into the object.

  “God dammit!” Frost shouted as he tried to manipulate the maxjack, to get a grip on their target.

  “Breaches in five compartments, sealing sections off. Half our lower shield emitters are dead, I'm compensating!” Finn reported. “Somehow,” he muttered to himself.

  “Do you have it Frost?” asked Ashley in a rush.

  Frost struggled with the controls of the maxjack, trying to work with the working gripper arms he had left, activating magnetic capturing fields and pressing the satellite against two of the largest curled arms that were stuck in position with no power.

  “Frost, do you have it!” Ashley repeated, waiting to take the newly calibrated controls and try to get the Samson out of danger.

  “Shut it! You're not helpin'!” he snapped back.

  “Is it possible?” Finn asked.

  “Nay! I don't think-” Frost started but was interrupted as the whole ship shuddered violently and alarms sounded for two seconds before Finn shut them down.

  “That was a heavy collider shell, ran us straight through, sealing two non-essential compartments and shutting down a line of capacitors! We have to get out of here!” Finn said as he watched the ship's power
reserves and generation capacity drop drastically.

  “Frost! Do we stay or do we go?” Ashley asked harshly.

  “That did it! The thing is impaled on one arm and I could trap it with one of the ones that still work! Go! Fer all that's holy! Get us out o' here woman!”

  “Finally!” Larry commented as he started plotting a hyperspace course. “You have to get us clear of this mess before we can start hyperacceleration.”

  Ashley looked at the summarized status display as she fired the engines and tried to start the Samson in the right direction, towards the nearest edge of the combat area. The report told her that their shields were down to nine percent and didn't effectively cover the aft end of the ship, that they had six open compartments, and that there were only two fighters left. “Fighter wing, get out. Generate wormholes and escape now!” she ordered.

  “Flightnut copies, I'm gone!”

  “Byfly copies, heading out!”

  “Finn, give me a burst of hyperspace particles on my mark,” Ashley commanded.

  “Ready,” was all he said as he turned white.

  Larry worked feverishly to find a nearby, straight, clear path but couldn't locate one on the tactical hologram or screen in front of him.