And now he had evidence that maybe Coren shouldn’t be seeking help from the SRE. The real enemies weren’t the Mechanics. They might be—
“I have to tell Coren what we’ve found,” Tag said.
“Don’t.”
Tag was surprised by her answer. She’d been such a vehement proponent of the Mechanic, and now she wanted to conceal what Tag thought must be the definitive explanation for what had caused the species-wide mutiny. “He deserves to know.”
“But if you tell him now, he might not trust us. He won’t help us get off this planet, and we won’t be able to get back to the Montenegro to send for help.”
“It’ll be worse for any hope of future Mechanic–Human relationships if he finds this out on his own.”
“Agreed,” Sofia said. “This is your ship now, Skipper. Your decision. But at least wait until the AI systems are restored and we’re off Eta-Five.”
Tag could see the logic in that. She’d been right all along about the Mechanics, and he knew her relationship with them and Coren gave her an advantage at predicting how he would react to this type of news. “Okay. We wait until we’re off Eta-Five.”
He waved his hand across the holoscreen and uploaded the nanite data onto the handheld MRI. With it, he should now be able to detect the nanites in any Mechanic, including Coren. He set the handheld MRI down and stared back at the dead Drone-Mech lying on the exam table in the lab. It looked more menacing than ever. Tag wasn’t afraid of the deceased alien but rather of what it represented. A pirate attack—nothing particularly unusual in and of itself—had turned into the beginnings of an interstellar, interspecies conflict. And the Argo was right in the middle of it, alone and helpless.
“Captain,” Alpha’s voice called over the intraship comms. “Captain, we have news from the bridge.”
Tag punched a button on the bulkhead. “Go ahead, Alpha.” He expected more news of online AI systems and progress in repairs. But he wasn’t ready for what Alpha said next.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
“We have an additional seven contacts,” Alpha said calmly over the ship’s comms as if she was reporting nothing but a water-pipe leak in the heads.
“I’m on my way,” Tag said. He and Sofia sprinted out of the med bay. The bulkheads and passageways became a blur as they raced by. Once on the bridge, the massive holoprojection of Eta-Five grabbed his attention. Fourteen red dots, identified as Drone-Mech ships, circled around the planet.
“Why?” Tag asked.
“I wish I knew,” Coren said, still focused on the terminals. Almost as an aside, he muttered, “Repair systems reporting full hull integrity reestablished and engines are operational. Astronavigation AI should be online within minutes.” He straightened his long body. Sweat trickled through the gorges of scars across his face. “We’ll be ready for a jump to hyperspace as soon as we’re out of Eta-Five’s atmosphere.”
“Good,” Tag said. “Looks like we’re going to need to move sooner than expected.” He plopped into the captain’s station crash couch. “Where are these ships coming from?”
“I am unable to provide an adequate answer for that inquiry, Captain,” Alpha said. “I apologize for these shortfalls.”
“It’s not necessary, Alpha,” Tag said. “Any idea, Coren?”
“No. I can’t tell whether they’ve made separate hyperspace jumps to Eta-Five or if there is a fleet in orbit sending these search vessels down. It’s impossible to tell with the Eta-Five atmospheric anomaly blocking all extraplanetary sensor readings.”
“Of course,” Tag said. “Once we make the jump, we’re going to need to let the Montenegro know that hostile forces are mustering here.”
“I’m not sure what you did to incite their fury,” Coren said, “but when you destroyed that cutter, they must’ve taken it personally. To have this many ships searching for you, it’s almost as if you stole their Holy Grail.”
Tag cocked his head, perplexed by Coren’s use of the human expression.
“I taught him that one,” Sofia said.
Coren faced Alpha. “Do you think you can finish this last batch of code?”
“I believe I can indeed handle this,” Alpha stood.
With a nod, Coren paced to the captain’s station. He stretched out his multi-jointed limbs, bending them in ways that made Tag cringe. “It feels good to get out of that damned human-sized seat.” He let out a long exhalation then licked his lips with his fork-like tongue. “Captain Brewer.”
The title still felt strange to Tag. “Yes?”
“I completed my part of the deal and restored your AI systems.”
“And I appreciate that.”
“I told you I would be happy to return to the Forest of Light after I completed these tasks.”
“You did.”
“I’m afraid I will no longer be able to uphold that end of the bargain.”
“Because of the search vessels?” Tag asked.
Coren nodded.
Tag drummed his fingers on the crash couch’s armrest. He’d already suspected this would be the case before the newest seven Drone-Mech ships joined the search efforts. “Makes sense.” He glanced at the holoprojection with a flurry of blips showing the locations of the Drone-Mech ships. “I’m afraid we couldn’t risk the intraplanetary flight to drop you off, and you’d be risking your life if we let you go out alone with so many ships scouring the planet’s surface.”
“It’s not my life I fear for,” Coren said, wrinkles forming across the unscarred portion of his brow. “It’s the lives of my people. I don’t want to lead the Drone-Mechs to them. They might be looking for you, but if they find me, I don’t want to give away the location of the other Mechanics. We may be the only members of our species who haven’t suffered from whatever scourge has ravaged our people and turned them into monsters. I could not bear to be responsible for my people’s enslavement or butchery.”
“Understood. Will you accompany us to the Montenegro then? You’ll be a free representative of your people, and you can help us in your request to assist the Mechanics here.”
“I would relish the opportunity.”
“Very well. Alpha, how’s progress?”
The droid stepped away from the terminal. “Code implementation and debugging complete. Astronavigation online. Repair estimates state that weapon systems will be fully functional within the day.”
“But astronav is ready to go?”
“Yes, Captain.”
Tag gave Coren a meaningful look. The Mechanic couldn’t possibly know the mix of emotions and thoughts roiling through Tag now, but he seemed to appreciate the gesture. Guilt still crushed him, knowing humans might’ve played some part in the Mutiny Incident plaguing his people. He needed to help these Mechanics. Not just to keep an oath to Coren but because it was the right thing to do. The evidence he’d seen in the med bay was enough to convince him of this, and the longer they waited here on Eta-Five, the more the Drone-Mechs would intensify their search efforts and the less chance the free Mechanics stood of a successful rescue.
“Cue up the astronav systems, Alpha. We’re leaving immediately,” Tag said. “The Mechanics are relying on us.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
“Sofia, you’re flying,” Tag said. She gave him a salute and dropped into the pilot station. “Alpha, you’re on Ops. You might have the best handle on navigation and engineering.”
“That is true. I now have quite the advantage with those tasks.” She settled into the crash couch at the Ops station.
Tag looked at Coren last. “You’re on weapons. We don’t have much, and the AI systems should be able to deal with most point-defense and targeting procedures. But it’s always helpful to have the intuition of someone with intelligence at the controls.”
“I’ve had a little time to acquaint myself with your systems. Rather basic compared to Mechanic standards, though, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“Are you sure
you want me here?” Coren asked. Tag understood the Mechanic’s reservations. The alien couldn’t believe Tag had asked him to be in charge of the ship’s firepower after the tense relationship they’d shared. But Coren still didn’t know what Tag had discovered about the Drone-Mechs. And if all else failed, Tag could easily override any weapons control from the captain’s terminal.
“Yes,” Tag said. “Positive.” He offered no further explanation, and Coren sank into the seat. “Alpha, chart us a course off the planet. Avoid sensor range of all contacts if possible. As soon as we break through the atmosphere, have the AI chart a hyperspace jump. Do not wait for my command to set the trajectory and be ready when I give word to activate the T-drive. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Captain,” she said, already working at her terminal.
“Coren, have weapon systems online. But lay off the energy cannons. I want to reduce our energy signature. Have point-defense systems prepared to go at the first sign of any incoming torpedoes or warheads.”
“At your word, Captain,” Coren responded, his twelve fingers tapping at the terminal.
“Sofia, we’re at your mercy. I barely crash-landed this heap of singed metal into a snowdrift. Take us on Alpha’s course and off this frozen hell. Get those grav impellers online.”
“You got it, Skipper,” Sofia said. Her fingers worked quickly, and she pulled back on the controls. A low whine shuddered through the ship as the reactors churned, powering up the impellers. “Just like a fat, bloated fighter,” she muttered as she fed the impellers more power.
The shaking of the thrusters and impellers sparked a twinge of nervousness in Tag. “Nothing breaking down on us yet?”
“Everything is reporting typical function,” Alpha replied.
“Sofia, slow lift until we’re clear of the snow, then take us to space.”
The Argo shook as the impellers pushed it. Snow and ice sloughed off the bridge viewport, and the ship climbed out of its frigid tomb. The gray clouds and barren landscape of Eta-Five appeared before them. Jagged mountains broke over the horizon, their silhouettes appearing with the occasional burst of green lightning tearing apart the distant sky.
“Grav impellers at full strength,” Sofia said.
“Alpha, coordinates, please,” Tag said.
“Transferred.”
Tag couldn’t help the slight grin as he watched a projected trajectory glow across Sofia’s holoscreen. No SRE officer in their right mind would assign a ship’s command to this crew of misfits. But it didn’t matter now. They were actually melding together as a cohesive, functional team.
“Full ahead!” he commanded.
The engines roared, resonating through the bulkhead, and the resulting thrust pressed Tag into his seat. It took a second before the inertial dampeners kicked in, and the clouds blotted their view of anything else as the ship pitched for the sky. In mere minutes, they’d reach the thundering waves of clouds and pierce through Eta-Five’s atmosphere.
A warning flashed suddenly on Tag’s holoscreen. The message he read there obliterated his confidence in their escape like an asteroid striking an unaware space station outpost.
“Incoming weapons lock!” Coren shouted.
“Initiate lidar and radar chatter.” Tag gripped the side of his terminal and watched the holoprojection. From the nearest Drone-Mech ship, three small red dots blinked and flew toward them.
“Sensor subversion isn’t working,” Coren said. “We’ve got incoming torpedoes.”
Time to test just how well his ragtag team worked under stress. More Drone-Mech ships began descending on their position, racing from various points on the planet’s surface. Most didn’t stand a chance of catching them before they reached cloud cover. But all it took was one to take them down.
Tag clenched his jaw. “Fire chaff, and ready point-defense.”
Coren executed the commands with rapid-fire precision. A storm of flak spewed from the Argo, ready to catch incoming torpedoes.
“Sixty seconds until we clear the atmosphere,” Sofia reported.
“Energy shields up,” Tag said.
Alpha tapped on her terminal. “Shields are at one hundred percent.”
They rocketed toward Eta-Five’s cloud cover, but the torpedoes accelerated far faster than the Argo, closing the gap between the Argo and the Drone-Mech ships at a rapid clip.
The first torpedo approached the three-thousand-meter mark. It detonated, exploding against the screen of chaff. The blast glared blindingly white through the viewport, and the ship lurched to port. Sofia struggled at the controls, and her knuckles turned white as she fought against the concussive force.
“That was close. Too close,” Tag said “We’ve still got two more incoming. Point-defense, now!”
A chain of fiery depleted-uranium slugs cascaded from the cannons. The rounds cut through the air until a distant explosion was followed quickly by another. The roar of the blast and its tidal wave of force slammed against the ship. Tremors snaked through the Argo, but a slight grin spread across Tag’s face.
“Nice job, Coren,” Tag said. His joy was short lived.
Alarms chirped, announcing the arrival of more torpedoes on the holoprojection. A dozen of them. Tag forced himself to breathe at a normal pace, trying to maintain a Zen-like calm in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds. Coren continued to pour point-defense fire at the incoming ordnance, but the torpedoes were approaching at an alarming rate. Computer estimates predicted their impact before the Argo reached the dense blanket of electrical storms covering Eta-Five’s upper atmosphere.
The point-defense cannon fire collided with several of the torpedoes. The blasts rocked the vessel, but they were still safe, still alive. Tag’s confidence grew with each distant ball of billowing fire and glaring flash of light, signaling another torpedo down. They’d make it off Eta-Five yet. Only five more torpedoes shimmered on the holoscreen, homing in on the Argo within intercept distance.
“Five more, Coren,” Tag said. “Five more. That’s it, and we’re home free.”
“Take these down and we’ll make it yet!” Sofia shouted with a victorious air.
The point-defense cannons boomed, and Coren adjusted their firing solutions as pinpricks of light appeared through the viewport, heralding the approaching torpedoes.
Then the cannons went quiet.
“We need point-defense!” Tag leaned forward against his harness. “What’s going on?”
Coren pounded the terminal. “Cannons have overheated!”
Damn the gods, Tag cursed inwardly. This was the sacrifice of having to leave the planet before the weapon systems had been fully repaired. And now it looked like they wouldn’t make it off the planet at all.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
The five torpedoes glared on the holoscreen, descending on the Argo like birds of prey after helpless quarry. Sofia had the Argo at full acceleration, and the force was enough to make Tag feel as though his bones were about to collapse in on themselves despite the inertial dampeners. But still, they wouldn’t hit Eta-Five’s atmosphere in time. Every passing second the point-defense cannons remained sickeningly overheated meant another second closer until Tag and the rest of the crew found themselves engulfed by the unquenchable maw of an exploding torpedo.
“Flak alone won’t stop those torpedoes,” Tag said. “Sofia, let’s shake the rust off those fighter-pilot skills.”
She didn’t bother responding. The Argo took an abrupt turn, and they cut across the tundra, still thousands of meters above the planet’s surface. She put the vessel into a barrel roll, and the two nearest torpedoes adjusted their courses, spiraling after them.
Tag’s fingers dug into the edge of his crash couch. The intense g-forces pressed against his rib cage, and another warning light flashed on his terminal: Inertial Dampeners at Limit.
“Sofia, careful! Don’t get us blacked out.”
“Not my fault if you can’t handle the ride!” she shouted over the resounding roar of the chur
ning impellers. As the torpedoes closed in, she sent the Argo into a steep nosedive. They careened to the planet’s surface.
Two torpedoes nipped at their tail, and the remaining three accelerated, blinking ever closer to the Argo’s location on the holoscreen’s map.
Individual ice pillars and snow drifts loomed larger through the bridge’s viewport. The ground was fast approaching. Then the ship shuddered as Sofia swerved neatly so they skimmed Eta-Five’s surface. They plowed through a snowbank and then curved between ice and rock stalagmites, and a plume of white spray kicked up behind the ship as it left an icy wake.
One of the nearest torpedoes plunged into the snow where the Argo had straightened out. It disappeared silently, sending a small wave of white into the air like the restrained splash from an Olympic diver. Then a ball of orange and white fire exploded, instantly melting snow and ice and throwing fragments of rock. The Argo bucked as the wave of concussive force caught up to the ship.
“Energy shields absorbing blast,” Alpha said in her even voice.
The invisible shields glowed blue and green across the viewport as fire rolled over them. The shields soon stabilized and vanished. Sofia wound the Argo between towering pillars and massive snowdrifts. Another torpedo crashed through snowdrift after snowdrift, losing precious acceleration. It burst from another snowbank, and Sofia curved the Argo around a prominent tower of perfectly clear ice encasing a column of rock. The torpedo slammed into the spire. Tendrils of fire and debris exploded from the detonating torpedo like the reaching tentacles of a Forinth. A rolling clouds of rubble and flame encompassed the ship. Sofia jockeyed the controls. Tag said a silent prayer. The energy shields flickered.
“Shields are draining,” Alpha said.
The ship continued to buck and quake. It was as if they were caught in the undertow of a tidal wave, and they thrashed side to side. The hull smashed through a gargantuan mountain of snow. They lost precious momentum.
Eternal Frontier (The Eternal Frontier Book 1) Page 21