by Dark Knight
Awesome navigated between and around the debris, quickly reaching Starshatter’s sensor range and linked another data-stream full of combat footage and probable flight routes for his carrier vessel to use while navigating the debris field. Together with Alice they managed to pinpoint a section of that field that was the most probable and close starship ambush location. He suspected that his peculiar captain wanted to know exactly that and aimed at somehow exploiting the crafty enemy trap.
The hamster chuckled again, this time longer and happier – he already had the punchline needed to announce the existence of his AI companion to the others. He also had fashioned his second very bad joke and was madly laughing while ’Insanity’s landing struts touched the floor-plating of Starshatter’s hangar bay. Masterful landings and takeoffs were something that he no longer even noticed but Alice did, and while her companion leaped from the cockpit, she compiled even more data into her mainframe. The crafty AI was also working on something that had to be ready. Just in case...
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The flight leader and his last wingman’s gutted machine limped back to their mothership, and were slowly eased inside the hangar bay of ’Empress Throne’ by the tractor beam projector Omasa had thoughtfully installed. The Lord captain himself was standing there on the deck, alone and devastatingly scary, dressed in his imposing dark green uniform while beside him, carrying their equipment in hand waited two of the ship’s medical teams. As his machine stepped carefully and mag-locked its feet onto the floor-plating, the flight leader nervously leaped, landing before his captain’s feet. Bowing his head, he speedily reported:
“Lord captain! We met the enemy head on and fought it off, successfully!” – raising his faceplate he noticed his commander’s calm facial expression – “The Terran had a forward attack scout fighter my Lord! Well armed and the pilot was very skilled,” – the flight leader hesitated for a second after watching how the medical team dragged the mangled and mutilated body of his wingman, still alive and screaming with pain – “I believe that starfighter had an on board AI my Lord! All of our electronic warfare actions were rendered useless by it!”
Omasa carefully examined his pilot’s face and nodded; he wasn’t lying to cover his failure but rather by displaying atypical bravely had told him everything as it was. And not because of fear but... respect? He smiled and then loudly replied in such a way that all of the crew present could hear him:
“I bestow on you the title Hero of the Taz’aran Empire, pilot! Not only have you survived facing a full fledged Terran Ace in battle, you’ve saved the life of your wingman and her machine!” – he glanced at the half destroyed mecha and raised an eyebrow, its armor was melted beyond repair and systems had to be overhauled completely. The other surviving pilot was missing an eye, leg and her both arms. Nothing they couldn’t replace though.
Omasa waved at the medics and used his stern voice to issue a warning – “I want this woman fitted with emergency cybernetics at once! Take care and restore her health to the best of your ability medic, or you will take one long stroll in outer space – without a spacesuit.”
“Am I making myself clear?” – the last medic nodded feverishly and quickly ran after his colleagues. Omasa linked his new orders to the bridge:
“Navigation pit, move my ship in the previously plotted position near ambush site 03, at the double! I want main tractor beam control to rearrange some of the bigger debris and create more, tighter cover for us. Artillery, prepare to launch dead torps at my command!”
Omasa turned back, his cape twirling in the air from the rapid motion and walked quickly towards the lift, giving his last command before the doors slid shut:
“Hangar control, contact all TA’s and order them back for refueling. I need all of my screening ships ready for the battle ahead!”
The elevator doors closed and taz’aran crewmates ran quickly, moving crates, loaders and equipment in preparation for their pilots’ arrival. The flight leader found one free sleep pod, and without removing his suit sat on the foamy bedside. Some off shift crewman walked next to him and dangled an open can of space food before his face. Even when procuring space rations for the crew had Omasa not failed them – instead of the usual pink gooey paste that smelled like dirty socks they had proper canned rations with real meat inside!
Tired both physically and mentally, the taz’aran pilot laid down in the pod’s bed and opened his mouth; chewing and swallowing after each spoon fill. His eyelids closing, he noticed suddenly that both of his hands were shaking and quickly hid them in his spacesuit’s pockets.
There was something he didn’t openly tell his Lord captain but only hinted about – most probably that AI belonged to the tiny Terran pilot he’d heard being mentioned earlier. Chasing away the crewman, he quickly closed the lid and pressed the force sleep command on its panel. One medical injector gently touched his neck, administering sleeping and nerve calming meds.
Now, completely isolated from the hangar and everyone in it, the flight leader started laughing, eyes still open and full of terror, despite the medical liquid coursing through his veins...
The horror that this battle wrought upon his mind was devastating. How were they even going to win, if an entire wing of mecha couldn’t take down one single Terran scout fighter?! His hands weren’t the only thing shaking, the body of the flight leader was trembling like a leaf on the wind. Why wasn’t that stupid nerve stim working yet? With gaze hazed by tears he remembered the stories older pilots and mecha jocks told him. Tiny feet of doom they called them, those Terran small clients called ’hamsters’ were apparently genetically engineered to be the perfect killing machine. They did not feel any emotion, had no pity, felt no remorse as they mercilessly exterminated everything on their path.
The flight leader had thought those mere stories, fashioned to scare young cadets and make their enemy look more vicious for the propaganda holo-vids.
It was not so, and with his consciousness slipping away into the blissfully medicated refuge of sleep, he heard a strange small creature’s voice snigger at him. It was coming from everywhere, and nowhere. The taz’aran wailed, covering his ear holes, face soggy with tears and snot – yet the laughter persisted...
Chapter 4
Space boxing
Alric glanced at the main bridge’s holo-display but quickly reminded to himself that he was the ship’s gunnery officer and not its commander. And, of course, Starshatter’s armory chief, responsible for all light arms and armored suits that the whole of the crew used. The star marine looked at his new Captain – that crafty alien had spared no expense equipping the armory with brand new crafting tools, expensive forge table, and even had a large supply of salvaged available items for him to work with. Most were evidently stripped off from the butchered corpses of the dead and were horribly damaged. The soldier in him rejoiced after inspecting each and every one of those bits – Alric imagined the agony those enemies of mankind had to endure before their deserving end. Captain Anit’za spent an hour in the armory telling him the story of how he, and Cat, boarded the ship facing its pirate crew alone.
Had it been before he met his wife, Alric would’ve signed a life contract with that man. Now, he wasn’t that sure. Instead of a future full of death, pain and destruction, his lonely existence was brightened by Vasilisa’s hopeful presence. The stern and disenchanted man had noticed his face lightening, smiling even, when thinking of her. Oh, and she was mightily strong, mind, body, and soul – what a woman she was! If somebody had told him that he, a wretched soul, who’d lost everything but the will to wreak bloody vengeance upon those who slaughtered millions of his people and his entire family, would win from the lottery of life that Gem of a woman, he’d laugh himself silly.
He spent a laughingly short time earlier at the armory to craft that thing Anit’za ordered for his chief engineer Brynjar. A beast of an item it was, and he was certainly proud of it, but in th
e end Alric was left with lots of pieces that on first glance nobody could use. Trained by the best armory specialists back in the day, he could easily rework those parts and use them in his new projects. And of those he had many. His wife’s plasma revolver was based on a technology that engineers had only mentioned to be remotely possible in his time. What was more alluring for the star marine, he could modify his assault spacesuit to carry that new plasma weapon and great sword both at the same time. Compared to what he had seen on the battlefield, today’s Terran weapons were all but matchless.
Even humanity’s mighty Kil’ra allies purchased their weaponry and equipped it on starships, mecha – well, everything really. The most benevolent of the Old Ones were standing up to evil, wielding his race’s guns, and part of him felt good because of it. One glance at Dozan’s snub railgun was enough for him to crack a well hidden smile – he’d heard the story from him personally in Starshatter’s ten forward. That tiny colony struck pure gold when a morale officer of such high skill answered their call for aid. What was that pirate slaver clan called again – Push’va? The star marine made a note of them in his suit’s PDA and everything he could find on their activities. Obviously the chance of meeting one of their starships was slim, but hey, a man can dream. That, and the fact that their hamster fighter pilot’s first crew was butchered by a ship of the same Clan made him determined to show the filth what a real star warrior could do in battle. Certainly shooting the bastards down with this ship’s weapons would count as payment repaid in full too.
His hands played over the main weapon arrays of Starshatter and Alric smiled – the starship had a weapon complement comparable, if not greater, than the heavy corvettes of his day. The ’Samosek’ spinal mount laser Alric considered to be a strategic weapon of war; if needed they could glass a small city from orbit. The main railgun battery was double what the design could originally support, and he plotted as many targeting options as he could imagine.
Alric was also keen on trying those point defense guns – ’Ol’ Shatter hand’ was a new weapon system during his day, but the attachments that Anit’za added had transformed them from regular pop guns into shredding machines of epic destruction. He imagined their devastating effectiveness against enemy squadron formations and swarms of missiles. His dream was cut short after the main comms chimed – they could hear Awesome’s cheerful voice humming “Fighting evil by starlight...” and Alric’s eyes darted quickly meeting with his wife’s longing stare. He allowed himself no smile, but without asking for permission his face lightened on itself. No more desperate loneliness! He swore that second, to commit himself to forging a family with her worthy of his dead parent’s example.
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Anit’za smiled and nodded at Cat, ordering another cup of Royal Bulgarian tea from his command chair’s machine – “Navigation, continue following our old course and prepare to open the hangar doors! Engineering, keep those systems on standby!” – Cat already had a mental picture of the situation they were slowly flying themselves into. The taz’arans probably had one big starship with fighter support lurking around, hidden deep within the debris field. Her captain had sent the scout fighter to do what it did best – scratch at the possible ambushers patience, locate them, and then run back with all of the navigational data it could gather after springing their trap.
Smart use of assets. If she’d been the one in command of the taz’aran force, Cat would’ve prepared multiple small ambushes, strategically placing them all around the field. She would try to chop the enemy force and then squish it piece meal. Cat imagined that if needed, Starshatter could launch ’Insanity’ and ’Princess Frog’, keep them in close formation beside the ship and assist them with their PD battery to fend off any starfighter or missile attacks. Knowing Anit’za however, Cat expected something effective but totally unconventional. She nodded back at him:
“Captain, I await your orders, Sir!”
Anit’za studied for a moment the data-stream that Awesome’s starfighter had just sent and smiled even wider, gentlemanly sipping again from his tea cup – “It seems that our intrepid fighter pilot’s performance was way better than I had expected. Good! Very good! We now have the best possible location of that enemy warship, and we’d sprang one of their surprisingly clever traps.” – he checked the main holo-display as it reported Awesome’s ship landing in their hangar and continued – “The taz’arans will assume that we’d probe the trapped debris area with our starship. They will wait for us there, and then pounce on us, of course, with all that they have available.”
All of his crew looked at him with anticipation as Anit’za was again sipping tea before finishing his thought – “We of course will fly right into their trap and face them head on!” – everybody’s jaws dropped a little bit, Cat and Alric exchanging slightly startled, worried looks. Them being the two most knowledgeable tacticians on the ship, Cat expected that their captain had some insightfully sly master plan. Alric, perhaps awaited a better prepared assault, targeting their enemy main ship directly. Both were proved wrong.
Brynjar raised an eyebrow too. He did expect something like that from a man as unpredictable and mysterious as Anit’za. Then again, the dzenta’rii were always mysterious and unpredictable...
He rapidly analyzed what his captain had just said and began picking apart his exact words. “Fly right into their trap” was the most telling for him, and in a sudden moment of realization he turned his head, eyes wide and finger raised. His captain was actually looking at him as it seemed that none of others had glimpsed into Anit’za’s true plan. Genius strategists and tacticians had the tendency to over-think things and placing layers of plans within a plan, for no end complicating everybody’s work. In fact the captain’s genius plan was that... there was no plan!
But all that would be masked as if there was A plan. Anit’za calmly drank all of his tea, while Starshatter moved following its now changed, new course. Simplicity often was the best way to overcome great obstacles, and as he read of Earths olden days, the dzenta’rii had stumbled upon one intriguing story. The tale told of a warrior king called Alexander The Great, who, when presented with a complex and seemingly impossible to untie knot, simply unsheathed his blade and slashed it in twine. That was often the problem with most super complicated plans – when implemented, as it was often the case, nothing happened as planned. He chuckled. That was a lesson his race had learned over the millennia of failed wars and disastrous space operations. Plan, yes, but simplicity was key. This way your force was not constrained by rigid, precise predetermined actions, but fluid, and like the hot tea he was drinking right now, able to flow through the tiniest of cracks.
Or create said cracks itself.
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Vasilisa’s face illuminated by the greenish pale light of her navi-controls, adopted an ever so worried expression. She had carefully examined the navigational data that this hamster had uploaded and was sure – something wasn’t right! Being herself a capable navigator, the young spacer woman had years of training and practice since her early childhood. Vasilisa was almost one hundred percent sure now, that this hamster wasn’t alone on his ship! He had the help of either some ingeniously crafted VI or a full blown AI.
She nervously gulped as cold shivers began coursing throughout her entire body. Spacers hated AI’s! They had found records in the ruins of many a dead civilization telling the gruesome tales of their demise by the “hands” of some mad AI – often their most prized creation. Instead of solving troubles or improving the quality of their life, those “things” went mad almost every single time! Then everything transpired very much like those old 2D science fiction flicks she’d seen; machines rioting and weapons of mass destruction wiping out the population.
Most of those civilizations were pre-stellar ones and the AI almost always died together with its unwitting creato
rs but some... some of them managed to piggyback on the starships who investigated their dead worlds. Few of them then uploaded themselves onto G-net and began wrecking havoc upon everybody’s systems, aiming to destroy as many billions of organic sentients as they possibly could.
No. Humans didn’t like AI and that was one of the chief reasons why no Terran would build autonomous battle drones of any type whatsoever. Vasilisa’s fingers twitched with sudden anticipation. Should she try and warn everybody now, before it was all too late? It was dangerous to act yet, she’d thought to herself – the AI had surely infiltrated the ship’s mainframe, and as far as she knew, Starshatter didn’t have a VI installed.
Not that it would matter much – a full grown AI was far superior in capabilities and learned insanely fast. She began thinking of a way to deal with this new adversary, because even if it wasn’t harming them now, that “thing” would surely do so in the future, and Vasilisa wasn’t ready to have her life snuffed out in such a manner. Not now, when she had miraculously found herself a man, and not before she had plenty of healthy, happy children!
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Carefully watching with his telepathic senses spread a few kilometers from Starshatter’s hull, Boris gently touched the mind of his wife and sighed relaxed – she was calmly sleeping in her medbay. As expected Ort was fully awake and alert, standing guard beside her bed. His mind was calm too, but the main reason why was altogether new to Boris.