by Andrew Beery
The armor used by the defenders was far inferior to the Mark-12 combat armor used by Yorktown forces. They made quick work of the six Nesters in the immediate area.
“Spread out. We need to take the bridge, weapons storage, computer facilities and life-support. Rules of engagement remain LFP,” Hiller barked as he stepped through the now secured breach into the rest of the ship.
LFP rules simply meant ‘Least Force Possible’. It meant deadly force was used only as a last resort in securing an area.
Hiller grabbed Sergeant McGee and two other marines… one with a med kit and the other with a nanite ‘hack-kit’. The kit contained specially designed microscopic robots that were crafted to allow them to identify and follow data conduits. It was the easiest way to find command and control systems as well as the main computer processing center… assuming Nester ships were designed along lines similar to ships they were familiar with. The good news was, the fundamental laws of physics did not change based on the species utilizing them and so ship designs tended to have the same things in them… despite vastly different exterior appearances.
As the group fanned out thru the battleship it became more and more obvious that like many things associated with the Nesters, the ship was built by a race other than the Nesters. This was evidenced by the number of Jeffries tubes that were simply too narrow for the wide body of the furry crab-like Nesters they had encountered. Mixed in with the Nesters were a mix of three other races including a group that looked like distant relatives of the Hoppers as well as four humans.
The final sentient race they encountered looked like massive, fat, leather-skinned white worms with a mouth-part that included small but nimble manipulators and a series of lightly armored eyes. The worms inched along the floor by humping their backs and pushing off with their hind quarters. This motion was quite a bit different from the method of movement used by Earth’s snakes.
Heller and the marines accompanying him had found a cluster of the worms working on a damaged power conduit up two levels from the engineering deck.
Surprisingly, the Naan, as they called themselves, were quite capable of producing a soft vocalization that was a very passable version of English. It seemed they were engineers. They could talk directly with the Crab-like race which they identified as the Nesters.
It seemed the Naan were happy to work for whoever provided their meals and let them exercise their passion for technology. They had existed in sociological symbiotic relationship with the Nesters for as long as either race could remember.
The Naan existed in a hive structure not unlike the KayBees that were a member race of the GCP. Talking to one was like talking to all of them. As a result, they did not have unique names.
“Asss we saaaid,” the nearest worm whispered, “She-Who-Would-Sing issss Prime Caaaptain. Prime isss bridge.”
“Yes, I got that,” Commander Hiller said. “I need access to the bridge… where is it?”
“I show,” the nearest worm replied. Heller noted it was not the one he had been speaking to first. Its voice was pitched differently and it did not seem to have the same lisp.
A video screen appeared in a section of wall that had appeared blank just a moment before. It showed a two-dimensional version of the Glory, which apparently was the name of the Nester battleship.
Heller could see a flashing blue section of the screen that highlighted what he presumed to be the bridge. There were numerous moving blue dots on the screen as well as two groups of yellow ones.
“If I’m reading this right, we are this group.”
Heller pointed to a part of the diagram that seemed to be several decks below the bridge. It contained a cluster of both yellow and blue dots.
One of the worms made a farting sound. The marine commander looked at the creature and raised an eyebrow… of course in his Stark suit the worm would not have seen that.
“My apologies… I repeat in human… yes”
Chapter 12: Cat Tales…
There were days when Cat wondered why she bothered getting up. This was one of those days. No matter what she did… or what she said… it seemed the Creator was determined to drag her deeper into this war between the Nesters and the people they had subjugated.
The worst part was she had a very real empathy for the rebel alliance. The problem was they were not helping themselves and she was at a loss as to how to make this clear to them.
She was seated at a camp fire deep in a cave used by the rebels. Around the fire were leaders from the various clans that made up the alliance. They had been arguing for hours. Cat was the source of the argument. The full extent of her Heshe enhanced abilities had recently become known and the magnitude of them had emboldened the rebels… despite the evenings’ earlier events.
The raid on the Depot in the town of Den’L had been an unmitigated disaster. The problem had come down to a complete lack of reliable intelligence on the facilities they were attempting to raid.
In the end, Cat was forced to take extreme measures. Her Heshe enhancements gave her the ability to create a form-fitting active armor complete with a simple cloaking field. Basically, tiny hyperfield emitters, embedded in her metallic armored skin, bounced light around her body so that it appeared to travel thru her. The effect was not perfect but if she stopped moving she was essentially invisible.
In short order, she had been able to infiltrate the compound where Sarah Wise and about fifteen others were being detained. It was then just a matter of disabling the communication systems so the Depot was cut off from calling for assistance… followed up by a rapid march thru the detention center to stun the twenty or so guards in the building.
Two hours and four stolen vehicles later, the weary rebels finally made good their escape. It was then that Cat’s problems began in earnest. The proverbial cat was out of the bag… as it were.
“Ya gin na tell me,” Clan Leader Rogan McNash said in a rumbling gruff baritone, “that ya not be able to do more fer us’n! We need ta be kicking’m harder and yins certainly able ta be do’n just tat!” The short man’s strangely accented deep voice was at odds with his diminutive stature.
His words were sometimes difficult for Cat to follow, but, she had a pretty good idea of what he wanted. When he finished speaking she shook her head. Cat suspected that somewhere deeply rooted in McNash’s past, the man was an Irishman. Arguing with him was like trying to herd cats. You could try, but at the end of the day the cats were never going to listen… and, the cats were going to do what the cats were going to do.
“I cannot give you the help you want.”
“Lass, ya owe it ta yer humanity,” McNash argued.
Cat shook her head again. She decided to try a different approach.
“What I can and cannot do… is not the point. What I should do… is not the point. What will ultimately be helpful to the most people… THAT… is the point,” she said with a certain degree of unconcealed frustration in her voice.
She stood up. “Look,” she added in a softer tone. “I get it. You’ve been trapped in a system that makes you second-class citizens. You’re stuck here with no way to set things right.” She kicked a coal that had tumbled out of the fire gently back into the blaze.
“I come along and you suddenly see a way to change the status quo… you figure that any change has to be an improvement. I’m not saying not to fight… I’m saying you need to fight smart.”
Greg Thomas leaned forward. The older man was from a group farther north. This was the first time Cat had met him.
“So, if I may ask… when you say, ‘fight smart’… what exactly are you proposing?”
“The point is, if you keep fighting a war to wound the enemy, all you are going to do is anger that enemy.” Cat looked directly at McNash. “…and say what you want about right or wrong… but the enemy, in this case… is bigger, better armed and very likely to make your life far more difficult.”
“Aye. So, we sit back’n da nut’n. Fine plan tat is,” McNash g
rumbled.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Cat insisted. “If you are going to win this war, you have to hit the enemy where he is weak. The heart of their society is this caste system… is it not?”
“Aye, Tis”
“Well,” Cat smiled, “if you want to kill something… doesn’t it make sense to go after the heart?”
***
Left Captain Hero wore his combat armor. The suit and he were good friends. His exploits while wearing it had caught the attention of She-Who-Would-Sing and led directly to his senior posting on the Glory.
He stood outside the bridge with four armored soldiers, ready to defend his Prime Captain and mate, She-Who-Would-Sing.
The small display on his forward arm showed a group of the intruders making their way towards the bridge. She-Who-Would-Sing and the surviving bridge officers were attempting to regain control of the ship’s weapons systems. Their efforts were hampered by an increasing number of computer system glitches. It was almost as if somebody was attempting to wrestle control of the computer from them… and yet Hero knew the main Computer Bay was still secure. He had a full armored squad protecting access to it… and thus far they had not been challenged.
The intruders were almost at the last junction. Hero had a surprise for them. The bulkheads were fitted with a variety of security measures designed to protect the Bridge from just such an attack. The minute Hero gave the signal the gravity plating in the floor under the intruders would ramp up to twenty times normal. It would not be enough to kill quickly but it would certainly incapacitate the invaders.
The new human tribe would learn that Nesters had been conquering lessor peoples for almost a hundred cycles. They knew how to win and the thought of losing was simply inconceivable. The fact that the intruders had made it this far was a credit to there skill but it would not be enough. They were facing Nesters and that was all that needed to be said about the matter.
After several minutes the audio pickups in Hero’s armor detected the sounds of a party advancing towards the Bridge. He signaled his men to stand ready. The time to acquit themselves with honor was at hand.
Hero watched the small display on his arm. The invaders were in the next corridor. In another moment he would spring the first trap. Once the intruders were crushed to the ground, he and his men would advance close to their position and from a safe distance spray their victims with their plasma rifles. The weapons would disable their opponent’s armor while probably not killing them… or at least not all of them.
Finally the last of the enemy walked into their predefined kill zone and Hero triggered the gravity plating. What happened next defied explanation!
The intruders stumbled briefly and then straightened up as if nothing happened. Hero could believe it. He signaled computer to double the gravity plating yet again. The intruders were now facing a full forty times normal gravity… and yet still they came forward!
Unable to wait any longer for his foe to falter, Hero ordered his men to advance and begin firing on the intruders.
They lashed out with their weapons. Five sets of twin plasma beams erupted from their hidden gun ports and struck the first of the invaders. The energy weapons simply bounced of the alien’s armor. Where the beams struck, the armor shimmered as if there was an energy barrier in place. Glory had similar shielding but Hero had never heard of such systems being engineered into combat armor.
The leading opponent lifted his weapon and fired. Hero remembered seeing the armored arm with his data display shatter and fall away from the main part of his armor. He thought it was odd because one of his appendages was inside that arm… then the pain hit and he lost consciousness.
***
Lieutenant Commander Hiller felt as if he was walking through thick mud. The Nesters had increased the effective gravity in the corridor they were traversing a couple of times. It was now almost 30G. The Mark-12 Stark suits were rated for many times that but it took the onboard AI a moment to recognize what was happening and adjust the armor’s servos to compensate. Fortunately, the Higgs Field generators within the Stark suits kept the relative gravity within the suits a constant 1G.
“Looks like the natives are getting frisky boys and girls. Keep frosty,” Hiller said softly over the comms.
He sent a swarm of enhanced nanite observers or ENOs into the corridor ahead of them. The tiny devices confirmed what he had suspected. There were armored guards in front of the main access to the bridge. Based on the impressive appearance of their armor he reasoned these were some type of elite guard.
As Hiller and his men continued to work their way towards the bridge, the armored Nesters decided it was better to attack rather than wait for his marines to continue moving forward. He respected the commander’s initiative. The least he could do was to was to advance and exchange pleasantries.
The Nesters said hello first with a series of plasma beams which might have tickled if they had been able to penetrate the Mark-12 armor. They could not. Heller returned the greeting in the form of an ultra-high velocity kinetic round. The marines usually didn’t use kinetics onboard a ship but these were trying times and one had to make allowances. The round was deflected by the modified gravity field. It wasn’t enough to miss but it hit a limb rather than center mass where he had aimed.
The kinetic round struck and shattered the arm of the lead Nester. A greenish-red ichor drippled from the dismembered joint. Heller swore the armored creature looked at his missing appendage, turned to look back at Heller… and then collapsed.
One more of the elite guards tried firing on Heller’s men. But he quickly ordered his men to hold their return fire. It was obvious the weapons being used by the Nesters were not going to be a serious threat to the marines.
He toggled his translator online. The linked AIs had had plenty of time to fine-tune their translation matrix.
“My name is Lieutenant Commander Bradly Heller. On behalf of the Galactic Coalition of Planets I am offering you a chance to stand down and surrender. There is no need for further violence and you have wounded that need tending.”
As he spoke he leaned down to look at the soldier he had just shot. What passed for blood was continuing to spurt out of the wound. He didn’t know much about Nester physiology but he was guessing that the loss of body fluids was not good. He pulled an expanding self-sealing med-patch from an exterior compartment of his stark suit.
He applied the patch to the exposed tissue inside the shattered metallic arm. The medical nanites would bond the patch to the exterior surface of the wound. It would stop the bleeding. Beyond that there was little Heller could do for his adversary.
With a swishing sound the door to the bridge opened. Heller immediately looked to see if there was a new threat to him or his men. A white furred crab stepped out of the door. Heller had a feeling that this was a female of the species. Its limbs were much more delicate and its general appearance was more… refined.
“You would have us lay down our arms?” It said in perfect English.
“I would. We have no desire to kill needlessly,” Heller answered.
“And yet you attacked my ship first,” she responded. “I am Prime Captain.”
“We attacked after our ship was damaged by a minefield surrounding the ring-gate to the solar system. We attacked after we were attacked by ships similar to yours in the system we just left… a system you appeared to be heading for. Do you deny that your mission was to engage our ship once you entered that other system?”
“I do not,” the Captain of the Glory responded sadly. “Have you killed my mate?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure. I’ve done what I can to stabilize his wounds but I’m not a doctor and I’m not familiar with your species.”
“I am She-Who-Would-Sing and I offer my name as a bond token in exchange for peace between us… be warned… I can only speak for this ship and her crew.”
Chapter 13: Ring-Gate 5…
Captain Ken Kirkland scanned the room with his e
yes. His role as the ship’s captain, as well as his longer tenure as the ship’s chaplain, were sometimes at odds with one another. In point of fact, he had worn many hats over his time in the GCP: Engineer, Chaplain and now Captain. In a perfect world, a new chaplain would have been recruited to serve as a counselor for a ship the size of the Yorktown. Sadly, they did not live in a perfect world. He had done what he could but his role as Captain meant he could not be nor take the time to be the emotional support mechanism he could and had been in the past.
Many of his crew were dealing with the emotional trauma of death and bio-regeneration… resurrection… if you will, for the first time. There were questions regarding the soul that just could not be answered easily. Ken had done what he could but at the end of the day, all he and others could do was to offer the ministry of presence as members of his crew worked through these issues. Ken had asked the Marine Commander, AG, to task his marines with the delicate task of mentoring the men and women who had just gone through the “Big D”. Asking a marine to help someone work through their feeling was kind of like asking an aggressive Pitbull to care for a newborn kitten. It usually did not work out well for the kitten. But in this case, the Marines were the prefect people for the job. These feeling were things they had all successfully dealt with as part of their life and death in the Infinity Brigade.
Around the table in the Captain’s Ready Room were a number of department heads from the Yorktown’s crew. Missing were the ones actively involved in overseeing the ship’s repairs or those who had been casualties and had not yet made it out of the bio-generators. Department heads were always prioritized by the bio-generators but every now and then a bad grow or malfunction would occur and a new bio-generation cycle was required. With so many people passing thru the system it was inevitable that there would be a few recycles.