ARMS For Eternity: (Book 8)

by Stephen Arseneault

  "Come on, Idiot, you can do this."

  Harris clenched his fists as he watched, wishing—no, willing the repairs to finish and the generator to come online.

  As the station attempted to move away, its lasers continued to inflict heavy damage on the following cruisers. The counter slipped under a minute.

  A huge explosion liberated the top three decks from the remainder of the station as the estimate dropped to thirty seconds.

  "Come on, Idiot! Pull this out! You're right there!"

  No response was returned as a second and a third huge explosion obliterated the top third of structure. With the explosion, the defensive laser cannons ceased to fire, drawing an intense and endless barrage of pulses from the attackers.

  Harris sat forward with a glimmer of hope as the beginnings of a wormhole formed.

  "Go! Go! Go!"

  The hope brought with it the beginnings of a grin as the wormhole went wide and the station slipped into it. Harris raised an enthusiastic fist in triumph, only to slowly lower it as the center third of the station burst outward as the main power reactors were breached. His fist dropped to his side as the wormhole collapsed on the bottom portion of the remaining structure as it closed.

  He let out a long sigh of defeat. "Goodbye, my friend. That was as honorable a death as one could have. You lived well, even if artificially, and you died well. If I survive this, your history will be recorded, with your deeds inspiring all of humanity."

  The Bangor turned, and with a flash was through a wormhole and on its way to Domicile.

  Upon arrival, the dozen transports had departed and five new ones were filling. Word was passed to the new President and a new countdown timer started.

  Harris glanced over at the pod sitting behind him. "Well, Tawny, we did all we could. Not too shabby, but not complete. I think we ensured Man's survival, at least for a while longer. You'd be proud of us. I'm proud of us."

  Thousands of wormholes opened in free space, not far from where Harris was parked.

  An immediate shock pulsed through his body as he expected Frizoid cruisers to follow. This was it. The surrender was coming.

  A comm came in on his console. "What's happening, Moron?"

  Harris raised an eyebrow. "Bax?"

  The hairs on his arms stood high as thousands and thousands of Banshees came streaming through.

  "What is this? How'd you get so many ships?"

  "One hundred twenty-two thousand, each with one of your gamma missiles and an enhanced railgun. We're packing some power. Where are the bugs? I thought we'd be too late. Oh, and we have help coming."

  "Help?"

  "It's a surprise. I'll fill you in when they arrive. What are we up against? My news is months old from one of my scouts."

  "Seventy-eight thousand Frizoid cruisers on their way here."

  "What happened to the station?"

  "We armed it, shielded it, and made it mobile. Idiot just put up one heckuva fight at Midelon. Bought us enough delay to get a few more transports loaded and away, and I guess to allow your arrival."

  "The dumb bot sacrificed itself?"

  "Hardly dumb. Went out as honorably as any of us could have."

  "It was patterned after you, wasn't it?"

  "It was."

  "Yeah, dumb. Where's your cohort?"

  Harris gestured toward the cabin. "In stasis."

  "Stasis? She wanted to sit this one out? The victory?"

  "Took a spike of metal into her back. I threw her in, pulled it out, and enabled the thing. All I could do at the time. Don't know it she's alive or dead in there. I hope to one day find out."

  "Hmm. Tough luck. We all gotta go sometime."

  "What brought you back?"

  Bax scowled. "Are you kidding? I'm Human. You think I'm gonna let some bug species take us over? Not on my watch. You have an estimated time for their arrival?"

  "Two minutes."

  "And they're coming from Midelon?"

  "That's where I left them."

  "Let's hope our help shows in the next two minutes, then."

  "Wait? You said you have a hundred twenty-two thousand ships? You didn't have that many processors."

  "Had some help with cracking the code on what enabled those benches. We made more."

  "Your help that's coming do that?"

  "Yep. Can I ask where you're sending the transports?"

  "Earth."

  "What? How'd we miss you?"

  "Who?"

  "I might as well tell you. Our help… Humans. From Alpha Centauri. Some managed to flee the gamma before it came through. Anyway, they should be here with the ultimate weapon at any time. I actually expected them to get here first. Get this, they don't have the hop-drive, but they know wormholes, though not for traveling."

  "What?"

  Thousands of wormholes opened up out in free space. The Frizoid fleet began to pour through.

  — Chapter 26 —

  * * *

  Bax commanded the Banshee fleet to attack, protecting two transports as they headed away from the incoming fleet on the other side of the planet. The mass of nearly two hundred thousand ships were facing off. The fight for humanity's freedom began.

  Bax shook her head. "This is colossal."

  Harris looked at the nav display and almost managed a smirk. "You're still flying the Fargo? Can't believe it's survived all this."

  "She's a keeper. You're still flying that bucket. And sorry to hear about Freely. I did actually like her. Way back, she's the only person I think who ever treated me with any respect." Bax chuckled. "I certainly didn't deserve it. At least not back then."

  "And you do now?"

  "I'll admit to having made mistakes, but I'm here now, aren't I?"

  "You are. And if we win I might just have some respect for you."

  "Oh. Well, we have to win now. You know how I crave your respect. Hold up. We have our first casualty numbers. Twenty-six hundred Banshees lost to eight hundred cruisers. What? What happened to my gamma attack?"

  "They have new shielding. At least that's what we think. They did the same to our missiles. We used more than a hundred thousand and scored about ten thousand kills."

  "I just used that many."

  "We recently made an enhancement. How many of those eight hundred are from railguns?"

  Bax sighed. "Half."

  Harris smacked his forehead. "What am I thinking!"

  The interference emitter was tuned on and switched to full power. Harris moved closer to the action. An area of Banshees began to ramp up the damage as they were able to move in closer to their targets.

  "You've enhanced that as well?"

  "Just the distance, and not by much. I can't get any closer without putting myself at full risk."

  "New count coming up. Thirty-seven hundred of ours to fifteen hundred of theirs. Better, but those numbers aren't gonna swing it."

  The fight continued for three hours, during which time Bax's fleet lost half its ships. The Frizoid were down twenty thousand.

  Bax shook her head. "Not sustainable. This is not going well."

  "You certain your friends are coming? And what is this ultimate weapon?"

  "Don't know. They wouldn't tell me."

  "So they've had run-ins with other species at Alpha Centauri?"

  "No, they were actually shocked at the videos I showed them. That area of the galaxy at least has been at peace."

  "And they don't have a wormhole drive?"

  "They do now. I gave them the hop-drive in exchange for the protection they said they have. Was taking them forty years to reach Earth."

  "I think you might have been taken. If they haven't encountered any other species, why would they need this ultimate weapon?"

  Bax smirked. "Maybe it's because they believed other Humans were out there. You do remember we were fighting each other for most of the last two thousand years, right?"

  "I remember."

  The fight continued, and the Human fleet continue
d to lose ground. Fifty thousand fighting ships became forty thousand, and then twenty. The Frizoid numbers had switched to double.

  "Your friends don't get here soon, this is over."

  Bax sighed. "I should have built more ships."

  "Do you have more processors?"

  "No. This was all I could manage."

  "Then what good would more ships do for us?"

  "OK, bigger ships. Maybe it was a mistake building these squatty Banshees. A hundred twenty thousand cruisers would have been better."

  "Could you have done that instead?"

  "No. Why are you riding me here? I'm doing all I can."

  "Sorry. Never knew you were so sensitive."

  The twenty thousand ship fleet dropped to ten, five, and then just over a thousand ships remaining. The Frizoid fleet, ravaged by tungsten pellets, closed in with the eighteen thousand ships that remained.

  In an impulsive move, Bax pushed her throttle to full. The Fargo raced toward the chaotic turmoil of Banshees moving in and around the enemy cruisers.

  Harris yelled, "What are you doing? Stay back!"

  "Can't do it. I go with my fleet."

  "Who's the moron here?"

  Bax looked into the comm camera with a wry smile. "That will always be you, Goober."

  The Fargo cut in and around the cruisers, inflicting heavy damage with the rail cannons she had added. Increased armor plating resisted the heavy laser cannons of the Frizoid... at least for a short time.

  A scowling Baxter Rumford charged in and darted back repeatedly as she unleashed her fury. On a final run, the nose of a cruiser caved and exploded as she again turned and raced back out. The camera image then turned foggy as the Fargo took one major hit after another. The small, transformed shuttle flipped end over end as it moved away from the fight without power.

  Harris pushed the throttle full, intercepting the ship and pulling alongside. A grapple was extended, snatching hold of the Fargo and nearly failing from the inertia of the spinning mass.

  The grapple aligned the ships as Harris released his belt and dashed for the airlock. The docking tube extended and a connection was made. The doors on both ships opened and smoke poured through from the Fargo. Harris rushed in, finding Bax in a tangled wad of debris in a corner, blood seeping from a gash in her helmet.

  Tearing away the plates of metal, loose piping, and wiring that crowded her in, he carefully lifted her limp body and hustled back through the tube. Her battlesuit was carefully removed. The helmet, with the gash remained. Opening the second stasis pod, he laid Bax inside, and again blood mixed into the stasis fluid as it filled and switched to a solid.

  Alerts were flashing and beeping on his console. The Bangor jolted and rocked as the Fargo took a heavy hit from an approaching cruiser. He sprinted to his seat, where he clicked his lap belt and retracted the docking tube.

  As the Bangor began pulling away with four Frizoid cruisers in pursuit, the Fargo was ravaged by a dozen powerful laser pulses at once. The explosion that followed left only the smallest pieces of debris scattering out toward the stars.

  The Bangor accelerated.

  "Come on, baby. You have it in you," Harris thought.

  Two heavy laser hits saw to it that wasn't going to happen. Once again, the ship jerked violently. Alarms blared as the cabin filled with smoke. Harris pushed hard toward the planet’s atmosphere as the air inside the Bangor evacuated. Electric conduits that cracked and sizzled were soon bypassed, and the air inside returned. Again, another hard hit filled the cabin with smoke and debris.

  The Bangor soon became a ball of flame trailing smoke through the atmosphere. The Frizoid cruisers turned back toward the final moments of the fight. The last hundred Banshees were still giving it their all, taking two more cruisers with them in the final seconds.

  Harris pulled back hard on the controls. The Bangor hesitated and then began to slow. On the partially damaged display, the ground was racing up fast to meet the ship. A spray of dirt and rock followed as the Zwicker class, modified freight-shuttle slammed hard into the earth. A small crater formed around her, but the ultra-hardened hull remained intact.

  Blackness filled Harris' eyes for a moment, confusion and dizziness from the violent impact followed. Power shut down. The damaged circuits that were spewing flames stopped, continuing to smolder. The hull around the hatch had been torn open. The air began to clear. Bright sunlight from outside poured in.

  As Harris got his head about him, he glanced down at the deck below his feet. With the ship tilting slightly toward the cockpit, a steady stream of stasis fluid mixed with red blood was dribbling by. Unable to move due to the immediateness of the crash, for the first time in his adult life Harris felt real dread and fear. The pods, or at least one of them, had been damaged.

  Willing himself to release his belt clip and to stand, the veteran Biomarine shuffled toward his friends. A sense of calm came over him as he realized Tawn remained frozen in stasis; her pod was intact. As he came to Bax's, he saw that a major crack in the side was the source of the leaking stasis fluid, no longer a solid due to the damage.

  Harris pressed the button. Bax's pod rumbled and the liquid quickly drained away. The injector came out with a shot of adrenaline, followed by a mild shock. Baxter Rumford, her helmet still on, opened her eyes for the last time.

  The anger in her eyes vacated. "Win... our... freedom, moron."

  Harris reached in, grasping her cold and wet forearm. "I’ll follow your lead, Bax, fighting until the end with my last breath."

  The nav display crackled and then came to life. The last of the Banshees was gone, vaporized by a dozen heavy laser pulses all striking it at once. The Frizoid ships were moving into high orbit. A counter showed fifteen thousand, one hundred eight. As Harris collapsed to the floor, his eyes locked on the image of the nav display.

  A general comm came in. Reaching to his arm pad, a tap enabled the connection.

  "People of Domicile, you are now subjects of the Frizoid Communion. The resistance has been crushed. Any further denial of our sovereignty will be met with swift and final justice. You will comply with all demands or immediate punishment for you and your family members will follow. As before, if you cooperate you will be treated fairly. Over time, should you show yourselves to be both trustworthy and valuable, you will be allowed to live."

  The new President showed on a split screen. "Aldeen Carter, sir. We will comply. You will have our full cooperation."

  The light from outside flickered as a silhouette stood looking down into the opening. "Anyone in there?"

  Harris took several seconds to answer. "Just one... two I mean."

  "I'll get help."

  A stern looking Frizoid commander began stating a list of demands over the comm. Humans would all be registered and tagged. All transportation was restricted until further notice. Unless you were walking, you were staying where you were.

  Several minutes passed before the silhouette returned with a friend. Harris was helped to his feet.

  "Geez, mister, you’re bleeding pretty bad. You've lost your hand."

  A belt was strapped around his arm and pulled tight as a tourniquet. Harris looked down, having not noticed his missing appendage. Glancing over, he saw it, still in his battle glove, lying in the corner of the cockpit. A sharp metal beam jutted from the ceiling down to beside his chair. The man grabbed the hand as his friend helped a still stunned Harris to the opening in the hull.

  "Well get you to the hospital."

  Harris glanced back at the pods. "That one is active. Take her. Hide her. She won't show on a bioscan. Do not bring her back. She's badly injured."

  "You're badly injured, missing a hand. Your right shoulder has been crushed. And I would have to guess that ankle is broken."

  The friend’s eyes lit up. "Whoa, Jarvis, you know who this is?"

  "I know. Which is why we're getting him to a hospital. You're lucky, Mr. Gruberg. We've got one of the last hospitals in this area that's still o
perating. The three towns nearest us all got on the transports. We had three weeks still before we were scheduled, so they left everything running. Don't worry about your friend. We'll come back for her as quick as we can."

  Harris squinted as he was brought into the bright sunlight. Unconsciousness followed.

  Two days later, he came-to in a hospital bed. A nurse was changing a dressing on his reattached hand.

  "Oh, hello. I'm Freida. Not to worry, you're in good care."

  He looked around the room for several seconds. "You're in danger. They'll be coming for me."

  The nurse replied, "You're safe, Mr. Gruberg. We'll see to it you have time to heal."

  "They'll find me on a bioscan. I heard them say everyone will be registered and tagged."

  The nurse smirked. "We're OK here. You're a kilometer under the ground. The sensors won't find us here. And don't worry about Miss Freely. We have the pod here with us. We were waiting for you to wake before we attempted to bring her back. Looks like there's blood mixed in with the stasis fluid."

  "No, don't bring her back yet. She took a large metal shard to the middle of her back. I put her in the pod immediately because I didn't know what else to do. Unless you have every piece of lifesaving equipment and the best doctors available to you, she should just stay in there."

  The nurse smiled. "No worries for you, Mr. Gruberg. We have both the doctors and the equipment. And she's in stasis, so there's no rush. We'll wait until you're stable and the doctors have a chance to talk to you."

  "The Bangor. What they need to know is on the logs of the Bangor... my ship."

  "The remains of your ship have been moved to a secure location with all power sources removed. Unless the aliens trip over it, they won't find it. I'll let our techs know to grab the logs for the doctors to see. Now get some rest. You've been through more than any man should."