Ross shot a questioning glance. “How do you know this?”
Ramya hesitated. She couldn’t simply tell him the Drednots were designed in factories owned by her father. Not at this moment.
She shrugged. “I’m just trying to guess here. It’s standard battleship design.”
“Hmm,” Ross said. He pulled the flight stick and turned the Stryker to face the leading Drednot. As the craft turned, Ramya looked for the Endeavor, but she couldn’t find it anywhere. “Since you obviously know more about the pylons, you want to take it from here?” Ross offered.
“All right.” Ramya wrapped her fingers tightly around the flight stick. “Here goes.”
Gritting her teeth, she pulled the direction controller backward as hard as she could to point the nose of the Stryker up, and then pressed on the throttle. The Stryker shot up. Once past the top of the Drednot, she swooped down, guns pointed at the pinched section at the back of the battleship where two sturdy arches—the support pylons—held up the core of the engineering section, including the reactors and the engines above them. If she could penetrate the shield and cause enough damage to one of the pylons, they'd cause enough trouble to the engines. Enough, at least, for the Drednot to give up chasing them.
She zoomed in close and just before pulling up the flight stick to straighten the Stryker, she pressed the torpedo launch button.
“Was that a hit?” she asked, busily turning the Stryker around.
“Yes, it was,” Ross said, peeking outside and behind them. “These torpedoes are something else. They’re tearing through the shields really easy.”
Ramya had noted that also. When she had fired on the ion cannons, she hadn’t expected them to fall apart so quickly. Battleships were built to withstand torpedoes; their shields could ward off fighter attacks for a long while. But not so much against the Stryker.
She circled the pylon, studying it intently for a moment. The last hit had partly deflected off the shield. She needed one more, a real good hit. Ramya took a quick look around before steadying the Stryker for the next attack. The two Drednots guarding the AP had not moved, but the second ship following them was drawing closer. Too damn close for comfort.
“Have to do this fast,” she whispered, and fired the torpedo. The projectile streaked across space and slammed into the pylon, forming a fiery ball on one side. “Damn it!” Ramya howled. It wasn’t as good a strike as she had hoped, and even though it had surprisingly torn through the shield, it didn’t hit the girder at the center. And that meant she had to do it all over again.
Spinning the Stryker around to face the pylon, she steadied the craft and pressed the launcher button again. This time, the torpedo hit the pylon dead center and blasted a large hole through the metal.
“Yes!” Ramya shot a fist into the air. She could see the pylon twisting. It would crumble, and even if it didn’t, the crew would have to focus more the collapsing engineering section rather than chasing the pair of rogue ships.
“That was unbelievably powerful. Either these Drednots are seriously underpowered or the AI was right about the torpedoes,” Ross commented. “But I don’t—”
“I’m not an AI, Commander Ross,” Dakrhaeth corrected right away. “I’m—”
“Sorry,” Ross cut Dakrhaeth off just as quickly. “Someone tell me where the hell is the Endeavor?”
Ramya’s heart skipped a beat at Ross’s question. In the heat of battle, she had forgotten all about the reason for the battle. Where was the Endeavor? The last she had seen it scuttling deeper into the asteroid field.
“Can you run a scan, Dakrhaeth?” Ross asked.
“Yes, Commander Ross.”
“Let’s head their way and take a look,” Ramya said, pulling away from the crumbling pylon and heading into the asteroid field. She regretted leaving the shadow of the Drednot almost immediately. A rock blew up right behind her tail as soon as they had cleared the nose of the Confederacy battleship.
“Pull back, pull back right now!” Ross yelled. “The other ship is firing at us.”
Ramya dived along the side of the first ship and under its belly. That had been a mistake. They would be safe only if they stayed close enough to a Confederacy ship, like now. But the thought of her own safety didn’t make Ramya feel any better. Her heart sank as she fretted about the Endeavor. What was the point of hiding anyway if the Endeavor was already compromised? Without Captain Milos, how far could they go? This war was as good as lost.
“Anything?” Ross asked impatiently. “Any signs of the Endeavor yet?”
No one spoke.
Ramya suddenly realized her hands were as cold as ice. Without the Endeavor, they didn’t stand a chance.
Ramya reeled. The darkness outside, the shadow of the behemoth hanging above them, the unending, lifeless space for as far as she could see, cast an endless shade over her mind.
She craved for some air . . . some light . . . warmth . . .
“I do. I see them,” Dakrhaeth’s voice drifted in. “It’s the Endeavor . . . making its way to the AP in a rather circuitous way, possibly trying to avoid these battleships.”
Ramya felt faint, but relief washed over her like a soft, warm wave.
“Are they all right?” Ross asked.
“They are still in one piece.”
There could be a million other things wrong in the ship even if it were physically in one piece, but there was no point asking the AI. If the Endeavor was in one piece, it was good enough . . . for now.
“That’s good,” Ross said, letting out a long breath. “So, if they are heading toward the AP, then we have to keep these ships occupied so they’ll have a chance to escape. But first we need to get out from under here.”
He turned to look at Ramya. “You all right?” he asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.
“Yes,” Ramya replied, gulping to steady her voice. The shadow over her senses still lingered, but it was definitely clearing. Knowing that the Endeavor was functioning had helped. “What do we do now?”
“The ship above us seems as good as a dead, so we needn’t worry about it,” Ross said. “We need to get the second ship out of the way and then distract those two”—he pointed at the two Drednots that were still blocking the AP—“so the Endeavor can pass into the SLH.”
“We can get the pylon of the next ship as well,” Ramya suggested.
“Works for me,” Ross replied. “Let’s go.”
Ramya kept under the belly of the disabled Drednot for as long as she could and then she shot out. The second Drednot must’ve been tracking the Stryker because a torpedo came streaking toward them no sooner than they were out of the first Drednot’s shadow.
“Iffin hell,” Ramya shouted, ducking behind a smallish rock to evade the projectile. In the next instant the asteroid broke into pieces, debris hurtling everywhere and over them.
“My shields are less than optimal,” Dakrhaeth declared. “I suggest you take better evasive actions.”
“I’m trying, I’m trying,” Ramya said, tugging at the flight stick and weaving through the debris that streaked past them in a non-stop stream. She pressed the throttle as hard as she could, hoping to quickly take the Stryker past the dorsal guns to the vulnerable pylons in the midsection.
“The Endeavor is making good progress,” Dakrhaeth announced. That was good news, but not that good. Even if these two Drednots were engaged, the two at the AP were not. The Endeavor would be able to go only so far unless she found a way to finish this Drednot and distract the ones guarding the AP.
“Can you try contacting the Endeavor?” Ross asked the AI.
“I have been trying,” Dakrhaeth replied snippily. “Their tech continues to be . . . antiquated.”
“Damn, look at those,” Ross yelled suddenly. “Rami, watch out!”
The Stryker had been streaking past the Drednot, up along its length toward the pylons. As they passed, turrets were pushing out into place all along the side of the Drednot. There had to be about twenty g
un mounts in all, a custom designed feature, Ramya was sure. The standard model Drednot did not come with such flank guns. Whether these were particle weapons or projectile weapons, she couldn't tell just by looking at them, but if as much as half of these turned in the direction of the Stryker and discharged, they'd do enough damage to the fighter. Perhaps destroy it altogether.
The only way to get out of the gun array's way was to dive down. Ramya pushed the flight stick forward and picked up speed as she sped forward, plunging below the Drednot's belly.
“Good move,” Ross said. “Watch out,” he shouted a moment later. The Drednot was starting to roll above them. This Drednot—quite unbelievably so—seemed to be much more agile than the first.
“Damn,” Ramya muttered as the rail guns came into view once more. She pressed frantically at the throttle so she could get the Stryker as quickly as possible out of the guns’ sight.
The Stryker hardly moved.
“Dakrhaeth,” Ramya shouted. “What the hell is going on? Why can’t we move?”
“They have their tractor beams locked on us.”
“Can’t we break free?” Ramya asked, jabbing at the throttle control.
“I’m afraid the beams are too strong.”
The turrets were turning, all taking aim.
“The guns,” Ross shouted. “Kill those guns before they shoot.”
“How the hell do I kill all those guns?” Ramya shouted back.
“I don’t know,” Ross said. “I thought you knew standard battleship design.”
These were not standard design. However, there was nothing novel about these gun arrays. About five guns were mounted in sets, and about twenty sets were distributed all along the flank of the Drednot.
Yes, she could kill one of the sets even while they were trapped in the tractor beam, but then the next set would fire at them. How many could she possibly hit anyway? Stop overthinking, Ramya chided herself, and pushed the torpedo launch button. The Stryker rumbled a bit and then an explosion ripped the nearest flank guns off the Drednot.
Ross breathed in relief. “Good, now torpedo the next one.”
“That won’t be possible,” Dakrhaeth informed. “That was our last torpedo.”
“What?” Ross shouted.
The next set of guns had started to swivel toward them.
“I don’t carry an endless supply of torpedoes. That would not be mechanically possible to—”
“Dakrhaeth, stop!” Ramya interrupted. The Drednot’s guns were almost in place. “What else can we use?” she asked.
“We have one weapon that could help, but . . .”
“But what?” Ramya shouted. “Whatever it is, deploy it now.”
“It’s a powerful plasma weapon, Mihaal,” Dakrhaeth said. “May I remind you that you did not want loss of life, and using it would possibly cause loss of life.”
Really? In another second or two at most, they’d be blasted into oblivion, and here she was, being lectured by an AI?
Before she could shout her order again, the Drednot’s rail guns contracted slightly and fired. Projectiles hit the Stryker in an unending barrage. The Stryker swayed wildly, and if not for the tractor beams holding it, it would have been flung across the asteroid field. A warning light on the console flashed.
“Shields are suboptimal,” Dakrhaeth informed.
All because you keep on yapping. Had the rail guns been particle weapons, they’d be fried and dead by now.
“Dakrhaeth!” Ramya yelled. “Bring up the plasma weapon. Now!”
There was an unnerving silence.
“Dakrhaeth!”
“Mihaal, I advise not using the plasma. It’s quite . . . potent. It’s also the last effective weapon we have. And it’ll drain power quickly—”
“There’s no other way, is there?” Ramya said through gritted teeth. “I said, bring them up.”
A second of silence and then Dakrhaeth spoke, “Plasma vents online.”
A section on the far left side of the console lit up, and Ramya recognized the layout. It was a weapon-control system specific to the plasma guns, which had obviously been kept offline until needed.
The shield warning flashed again, brighter this time.
“Shields at twenty-five percent,” Dakrhaeth said.
They were losing . . . fast.
“Dakrhaeth, help me aim the plasma,” Ramya said.
Another moment of silence fell. Then both Ross and Ramya yelled in unison. “Dakrhaeth!”
“Just noting, Mihaal, that might cause catastrophic damage,” Dakrhaeth warned.
“The plasma will drain our power. How will we get away from them after we discharge?” Ross asked.
Ramya didn’t know. First, they had to live through this, and the gunfire bombarding them nonstop didn’t leave them much time. She knew it’d be a catastrophe that’d possibly claim lives of innocent people aboard the Drednots, something she wanted to avoid altogether. But they were trying to kill her, and that wasn’t an option either. She was not done living her life yet.
“Aim it!” she ordered.
“Plasma vents aimed and ready,” Dakrhaeth informed.
There was a chance that she'd breach the Drednot’s hull altogether, depending on how much power the Stryker's plasma gun packed, and then there'd be the loss of life she wanted to avoid. But she didn't have a choice. They didn't leave her a choice. Gritting her teeth, Ramya fired.
She felt the Stryker shudder. Did it also feel a little warmer? Waves of energy flew out of the Stryker and rammed the Drednot’s body. Before she could blink, the metal shattered and peeled. Debris flew through space as the behemoth tottered and sank below her.
Lifting her thumb off the gun controls, Ramya pulled the flight stick up, straightening the Stryker. The Stryker moved! They were free of the tractor beam!
This was her chance. Ramya wanted to look at the destroyed Drednot, but before that she had to get the Stryker away from there. She pressed on the throttle and the Stryker moved forward, but barely. Gone was the breakneck speed she’d gotten used to, the Stryker’s movement was now more like the scramjets they used for training at the CAWStrat. And it was slowing even more.
Damn!
“Where’s the Endeavor?” Ross asked.
“Approaching the AP,” Dakrhaeth replied. “That’s good timing since the Drednots guarding the AP are clearly interested in us now.”
Ramya looked up. Dakrhaeth was right; the two Drednots that had stood guard next to the AP all along now moved forward. They were heading straight toward the Stryker. Her eyes lingered for a second over the shimmering outline of the AP beyond the two Drednots. They had to get there.
She pushed the throttle again. The Stryker barely moved. “Dakrhaeth?” she yelled. “Why aren’t we moving yet?”
“The plasma discharge has drawn too much power,” Ross said. “Have to wait longer before we get enough power to move again.”
“The commander is correct.”
In other words, they were truly, literally, a sitting duck.
Ramya blinked hard. The two Drednots guarding the AP were approaching head on, the red-striped flagship of Admiral Kanaa leading the way. How could she get past two of these attacking in unison? When she’d taken on the last two, she had the element of surprise on her side. But now they knew and they were coming straight for her Stryker. To top it all off, the Stryker still couldn’t move.
Dread rose in thick clots to her throat and all Ramya wanted to do was scream. The Drednots lumbered forward, a hundred times bigger than the Stryker, their build reminding Ramya of a massive death machine that would crush her in a blink.
“Dakrhaeth,” she yelled. “Do we have power yet?”
“About fifty percent, Mihaal,” Dakrhaeth replied. “And by the way, the Endeavor just passed the AP.”
Good! The Endeavor was finally safe, and fifty percent power was good enough. Ramya turned around, pushed the thruster to the maximum, and flew deeper the asteroid field in search of
shelter. Flashes of light crisscrossed the space around her from time to time, sometime missing the Stryker narrowly, sometime distantly. It was only a matter of time, Ramya knew. Up and down, left and right—Ramya kept on darting. The onslaught didn’t stop, and all Ramya did was evade. She was going farther and farther away from the AP and from a chance to escape.
A large button on the console blinked suddenly.
“They’re hailing us,” Ross whispered.
Ramya thought for a second. Then she slapped the button.
“Surrender,” Admiral Kanaa’s voice roared across the cockpit instantly.
“Never,” Ramya hissed. Angry at herself that she’d accepted their call, Ramya was about to shut it off, the admiral chimed in again.
“You’re surrounded,” she said. “You can’t escape.”
Ramya turned around to look. There they were, two behemoths bearing down on them like a pair of primeval beasts.
“Never,” Ramya shouted, bringing her fist down on the communication button. “Dakrhaeth, what weapons do we have left?”
A moment of hopeless silence seemed to stretch forever.
“Anything at all?” she asked again.
“Only rail guns, Mihaal.”
“Bring them up,” Ramya ordered.
“And do what? Those are—” Ross started to protest, but it was cut short when Ramya yanked the Stryker’s flight stick and made the craft spin around and face the approaching Drednots.
“What are you doing, Rami?” Ross yelled.
She was planning to give them a fight they’d remember.
“I’m going to try something, Ross. Won’t be pretty. Sure as hell, won’t be safe,” Ramya blurted. “You with me?”
Ross inhaled sharply. “Go for it,” he said.
“All right then,” Ramya said, running her tongue over her rapidly drying lips. “We’ll cut a path right through the middle of the two.”
Ramya heard the Stryker’s rumble as she pressed on the throttle. She pulled the craft up and they shot toward the Drednots. Blasts shot out in the darkness they’d just left behind. Ramya’s heart pounded faster and faster. She pushed the throttle to the max; the Stryker streaking forward in a path that lay between the two Confederacy ships.
The Last Stryker (Dark Universe Series Book 1) Page 19