The War for Terra 1: Resolute Command
Page 3
“They won’t last very long, Captain,” said Knott. “Should we prep for a jump to M-space?”
And there it was. In basic survival terms, Ortiz was left with a choice of fight or flight. As a civilian ship commander, he knew it was his duty to preserve the lives of the three thousand still on board the Princess. As a former military commander, though, it galled him to leave the transport to be destroyed.
“Sir,” announced Knott, turning to face his captain. “One of the fighters has broken off pursuit of the transport and appears to be heading this way.”
All eyes on the bridge looked to the forward screen. Ortiz knew the choice had been taken from him and he was glad. This would either be their last stand as humans, or a bloody and vicious battle. Either way, he decided, he would not be a spectator to the murder of the transport’s pirate crew.
“Mr. Stone, prep the engines for a jump, but do not enter coordinates,” he ordered, standing and walking to the rail through the holographic display. “I want that as a last option. Kama, signal to the transport that we are readying to assist. If there is anyone left over there, hopefully they can hang on for a bit longer. Mr. Knott, full power to the plasma screens and charge up the lasers anyway. Maybe we can irritate them to death. Mr. Pearce?”
Pearce stepped forward, seeing the civilian captain for what he once was for the first time.
“Yes, Captain?”
“Go get’em.”
3
The Terran Princess had sixteen decks of passenger space. The front quarter of the hull below the center line, however, was reserved for a cavernous landing bay mainly meant for passenger shuttles and personal space craft, it also housed Commander Pearce’s Crowned Eagle class fighter.
Smaller than the Ch’Tauk fighters, the Crowned Eagle class fighter was more maneuverable than the bulky alien fighters but lacked the thick armor plating that gave it its beetle-like shape. It made up for it with an advanced plasma shield system and a small amount of extra speed in the form of two chemical boosters mounted under the wing to augment its magnetic drive system.
It seated two, but could be flown by a single pilot if the need arose. Two upswept wings curved down like sickles from a central energy cannon mounted just over the insulated cockpit. Once again, the ship had tough windows, but relied on a heads-up holographic display so that the pilot could see in the blackness of space. The entire ship was painted a golden brown and had only the number seven and the shield logo of the Confederation stenciled on one wing for decoration.
Pearce had run from the bridge to the lift as the bay crew was alerted to his departure. He wasted no time in the lift, stripping of his uniform and revealing the tight vacuum suit that he wore underneath. He had taken to wearing the black and navy suit under his uniform while still a freshman at the Confederation pilot academy after witnessing another cadet blown out into space during a training accident. The young woman’s look of terror as she realized her mistake would stay with Lee for the rest of his life.
He pulled on the gloves, having kept them in his shirt pocket, and pulled up the tight skullcap hood that folded into his collar. He regretted not carrying his facemask, as he had gotten too used to not needing it on the luxury craft. He checked the seals on the tight suit and nodded to himself approvingly. The suit appeared scaly to the outside viewer, but the scales were able to seal off his body from vacuum automatically in case of depressurization.
The lift door opened and he left his discarded uniform behind as he sprinted to the overhead catwalk of the landing bay. Long unused shuttles lined the floor of the bay. He briefly noticed that the ships still looked shiny despite the years of minimal or no use at all. He wondered if the deck crew had kept them polished just for something to do.
The sound of his boots clacking up the metal stair echoed in the enormous bay. Once again he cursed himself for not seeing to the condition of his uniform. The embedded magnetic plates could keep him attached to the outer hull of a ship if he needed them to, but they were much less efficient with the rubberized coating worn off.
He came to the catwalk landing and turned to see his ship suspended from a launch crane a few meters ahead. A man and a woman in the bright blue livery of the cruise ship crew were steadying a short plank leading from the catwalk opening to the cockpit of his ship. The man stepped away from the plank and held up Pearce’s helmet. It was a thin, wrap-around assembly that sealed at the neck of his vacuum suit and had a clear faceplate.
Pearce allowed the man to push the helmet down over his head as the woman finished locking down the plank. She stood and walked to where her companion was checking Pearce’s gear.
“Everything is ready, Commander,” she said to the pilot. “Our launcher takes about fifteen seconds to cycle you out once the big door opens.”
“Too long,” said Pearce, his voice now sounding tinny as it was filtered from the suit’s voice system. “Get to the office and seal it up. Initiate a hard depressurization. As soon as the doors are wide enough, I’ll allow the ship to be blown out off of the rail.”
“That’s not exactly company policy,” the woman said, helping the pilot across the narrow plank to his ship.
“The Company can sue me,” said Pearce, settling down into his cockpit and pressing the controls for his restraint system. “Once they resurrect their lawyers.”
“On second thought,” said the deck mate. “Screw’em. I always wanted to try this.”
Pearce’s cockpit canopy snapped into place and the sounds of the outside world faded. His vacuum suit automatically connected to the ship’s air supply and temperature regulators. He flipped the switches that powered up the magnetic drive system of his fighter and waited for the panel lights to switch from red to green. He looked back and saw the two deckhands lock the bay control office doors, sealing them off from the hold and protecting them from the coming vacuum.
It seemed like an eternity before he saw the bay lights dim and the orange revolving lights begin warning of the emergency to come. A thin whistle began to sound from the huge doors at the front of the landing area. Stray bits of dirt and paper started for the door as they were blown out into the vacuum through the opening doors. The plank connecting the fighter to the catwalk tipped on its side as the gravity in the bay was turned off. It flew down the bay and was blown out into space.
Pearce felt the launch crane sweep out from the catwalk and orient the ship in the center of the bay. He counted the seconds and watched as the blackness of space widened in his view. The ship tilted slightly back as the wind from the depressurized hold pulled at the wings. He felt the shudder of the ship’s weapons systems begin their power up sequence and load the energized plasma into firing position.
There was a loud pop as the launch crane disengaged from the fighter. Pearce gripped the two control sticks hard to control the vacuum-powered free fall. He angled the ship’s nose back up and pointed it towards the opening door. The lights on his panel shifted from red to green and he used his feet to push the throttle control to the maximum.
It was like threading a needle when the needle was stationary and the thread was moving at the speed of sound. Pearce saw the door move towards him in a lurching jolt. He held steady as the little fighter screamed past the doors and into space, bursting through the thin green glow of the Princess’ plasma shield, momentarily erupting in an emerald haze as his own ship’s shields overlapped.
Pearce’s heads up oriented him right away and he called up the threat assessment system. It quickly found the oncoming Ch’Tauk fighter and scanned it for weapons and shield strength. It showed that the ship was still in nearly perfect shape with only a slight fall off of power from its energy weapon. He assumed the ship had shared the duties of escorting the prison ship and had rarely been called upon to open fire.
Pearce angled his ship over on its port wing and turned to face the alien head on. The enemy ship did not waver from its trajectory towards the Princess. Pearce could only assume that he was too small yet t
o even be seen. He oriented himself back to a plane that was similar to his adversary. He reduced power to his magnetic drive, slowing the cycles of electromagnetic energy that propelled the ship through space, and armed his boosters.
As he came to within a few kilometers of the enemy craft’s port side, he fired up the chemical boosters. Despite the inertial dampening system, he was pressed back into his seat from the acceleration. Too late, the alien fighter started to turn towards him as Pearce unloaded all six barrels of his energy cannon into the armored beetle-like hull.
An explosion of ruptured metal and oxygen came from the Ch’Tauk fighter. It listed onto its starboard side, leaking atmosphere and debris. Pearce shut off the rockets and turned hard to starboard. The Mag-drive twisted local space and turned the little fighter hard about. Once again, Pearce could feel the inertia push away some of his breath.
He rounded back towards the Ch’Tauk ship, centering the crippled fighter in his sights. His heads-up alerted him that the enemy ship still had weapons powered up and ready. He decided not to let them use them and opened fire.
The Ch’Tauk fighter escort exploded into twisted debris as Pearce veered away from the dying ship. Apparently, he had ruptured whatever the Ch’Tauk used as fuel, causing the ship to burn bright red in space for a few seconds before the vacuum extinguished the fire. Pearce felt a moment of satisfaction a he flew past the wreckage.
“That one was for the first officer,” he said to empty space. “One down, two to go.”
“Commander,” said the voice of Kama Yu. “I think you got their attention. They’ve disabled the transport and are breaking off pursuit.”
“Too much to hope they’re running away?” The pilot asked.
“Not unless they are running through you, sir,” replied the communications officer.
“Just my luck,” said Pearce to himself.
He tasked his ship to acquiring the two new fighters. He knew he would not have the element of surprise on his side this time and that could cost him the battle. He needed to even the odds in his favor. Given the distance between his ship and theirs, he knew he had only a few seconds before they were in range to fire. He looked around at the surrounding space to see if he had anything to work with. An idea clicked in his head and his hands moved almost immediately.
He pulled the nose of his ship up into a high roll. Twisting in space to orient to the battle plane, he pointed his ship straight at the blazing yellow star straight ahead. He pulled back the power to his mag-drive to allow the pursuers to catch up. As they entered weapons range, one of the fighters began to fire directed energy beams at him. They burned past his cockpit as he juked the controls hard left. He evaded the ship’s fire and poured on more speed.
His heads-up alerted him that the other ship had pulled up and was gaining relative altitude on Pearce. This would be a pincer type attack from the two insectoid fighters. One would keep him evading while the other swooped down and blasted him from above. He couldn’t evade from both directions and the Ch’Tauk knew how to use the high ground.
Pearce changed tactics. He cut forward power to the mag drive and used his reaction thrusters to flip the fighter nose over. He stopped the roll, but was now facing the enemy fighter that had been behind him. He was flying upside down and backwards for a few seconds, wondering if the other pilot had recognized the maneuver.
He fired his boosters and shot back towards the enemy fighter. He fired his cannons as he strafed the top of the oncoming fighter. His bolts deflected off of the beetle’s armor, but left deep scoring as he passed. He dropped the boosters and reactivated his mag-drive at full. He was now facing away from where he wanted to be, but the alien fighters were scrambling to keep up with his flying.
As the Ch’Tauk turned to continue pursuit, Pearce performed a long turn to starboard at a slower speed. He needed to draw them in again and they were reacting exactly as he wanted them to. Once again, the fighter that he had hit began to fire at him when he was in range. Once again, he evaded in a series of twists that kept him from breathing for a few minutes. He accelerated into their flight path and screamed by just as they tried to converge on him.
His heads-up showed the two ships merging for an instant, but as he switched to a rear view, he saw that they had missed running into each other and were turning to pursue him again.
“Damn,” he said to himself. “They’re not as bad as I thought they were.”
“Maybe you’re just not as good as you thought you were,” crackled the voice of Kama Yu. He had forgotten that his communications system was still on.
“I better be,” he replied, switching off the radio.
The alien fighters had reoriented themselves and were back on a pursuit course. This time, they stayed together and poured everything they had into speed. Pearce knew that this had just turned into a foot race. He slowed down slightly and diverted power into his shield system.
The alien fighters opened fire and Pearce muted his evasive tactics, allowing them to get close with their blasts. As he approached the star ahead he veered sharply into one of the blasts. His ship was slammed to one side, tumbling wing over wing towards the approaching star. He dropped power to his mag-drive and tumbled like debris straight at the raging inferno.
The pursuit craft stopped firing, apparently satisfied that they had disable their prey, but still wanting to see him burn up. Pearce shut down all systems except life support and shields. He dumped plasma fuel from his right engine and watched it ignite, giving the impression that he was on fire.
The alien fighters slowed their approach, but did not stop. Warning alarms sounded inside the cockpit and Pearce could feel the temperature rising. He pulled up a single holographic display and saw the pursuit craft closing.
“That’s right you sons of bitches,” he said to the approaching fighters. “Close in on wounded prey.”
His ship’s shields flared bright as he approached the stars corona. The Ch’Tauk fighters were within a few kilometers now and Pearce could feel sweat beading up on his forehead, under the mask. The heat was taxing the fighter’s life support systems beyond what they were designed for. Pearce saw the two fighters stop.
“Now”
Pearce flipped the mag-drive back on, straightening the ship’s tumble and orienting himself right at the lead pursuer. He fired the electromagnetic drive system to maximum power and extended its range down into the suns radiation. Instantly, he shot straight towards the two beetles and past them before they could react. He fired his cannons as he passed, not to damage them, but to blind them to what was to come.
The electromagnetic drive system of most ship’s warp space around the ship and used the warping to move the ship through normal space like a surfboard through a wave. When Pearce extended its influence into the stars corona, he twisted the magnetic field of the star itself. Massive nuclear forces were exerted on the surface of the star, forming a geyser of energized fusion plasma that flared up in Pearce’s wake. As he flew past the enemy fighters, he fired his boosters on full, trying to outrace the plume of fire that trailed in his wake.
The two fighters had only just begun to turn as the flare shot out like the finger of an angry god. They were enveloped and destroyed in an instant, leaving nothing to indicate that they had ever been there. The plume of fire, however, continued to follow Pearce.
“Shit,” he said.
Pearce cut his mag drive, figuring it was what was dragging the geyser of energy behind him and turned the ship hard to port, leaving his boosters firing on full. The inertia nearly caused him to black out as he rocketed away from the site of the battle. He felt the ship shudder as the tendril of fire shot past him to dissipate in the vastness of space.
He shut down the boosters and drifted, trying to catch his breath after the battle. He looked to his heads-up and tried to find the Princess. She had turned off her running lights as well as the mock window lights that dotted her hull, making her all but invisible in space. His display pointed t
he way and he turned his drive system back on at a moderate speed. He decided that he wanted to enjoy the flight home and let his ship, and his blood, cool off.
4
As Pearce approached the forward landing bay, he noticed the lights re-activate along the hull of the luxury liner. Three cargo shuttles were already leaving the big ship to retrieve the stolen transport. He drifted on minimal power past the bay doors, now fully open to space. At the far end of the cavernous landing bay was a small repair bay. The doors that protected it from vacuum were open and the lights had been turned on.
The pilot had almost forgotten what the big cruise ship looked like from the outside. She was long and sleek with an angled nose that swept down from a raised bridge module about three quarters of the way back. Her graceful flanks eased down like a waterfall towards a flattened bottom. Underneath the nose was the open landing bay portal that shined with a blue-white brilliance. Aft of the bridge, the ship rounded off to the three pylons that connected a large annular ring to the ship. The ring contained the huge magnetic drive engines for the ship.
Lee eased the fighter down to the floor level. He turned the ship on its vertical axis and spun gently so that he entered the garage sideways. He activated the onboard landing struts and waited until he felt the click of the gear as it locked into place. Centering the ship on a circle painted in the floor in reflective paint, he set the fighter down as gently as he could. He owed the ship his life and he wanted to make sure it knew he was grateful.
The garage doors closed silently in the vacuum. Pearce could feel the deck shudder slightly as the closed. There was a faint hissing sound and he felt local gravity reassert itself. As atmosphere quickly pressurized the repair garage, he began to hear the warning klaxon through the clear plexi-steel of his canopy.
As soon as the pressurization equalized, Lee pressed the release for his harness. He powered down the ship’s life support system and activated the canopy release. The flood of cool air into his cockpit made him realize just how hot the ship’s interior had gotten during the battle. The pressure alarm automatically silenced as he lifted himself out of his ship.