by Chris Hechtl
Still his natural instinct to protect her was there. “Little bird, I can take them on alone,” he said.
She interrupted him. “What and hog all the kills for yourself, Alexi?” She forced a laugh and waggled her wings at him. “We need to lead them away from the fleet; you know this love. It is our duty.” He sighed in futility as he pulled alongside of her. He looked to her and saluted; she returned the salute.
“I’ll take lead,” he said, voice returning to professional tones.
“Rank doth have its privileges,” she murmured, but nodded as he took point. She felt the tickle of his data stream and fed it to the navigation system.
“Good luck and God speed. Recon…Alexi, Alena. May the stars watch over you,” Enrique choked out. “I wish I could be with you both.”
Smiling she watched the countdown reach zero, and her afterburner kicked in, giving her a savage jerk and sense of elation. The ancient “YE HA!” Alexi yodeled made her grin despite the savage gravity. Concentrating on her breathing she watched the counter as it counted down the time to main engine cut off.
Eyes One opened a TAC link to her through a pinpoint laser. The beam had minimum scatter, and he had a good bearing on their course so he fed them an up-to-date picture of the area. The enemy had changed course to intercept them and was closing. ETA was two minutes. She set up a telemetry link, one to Alexi and then another to the Eye's One craft to relay back to the clan. The clan would at least know what they faced; the knowledge could be vital. She felt Alexi do the same.
She fed a query to the computer and felt a tickle and then saw a pin point in her vision. The computer accessed her implant and fed it directions. She carefully turned her head slightly and looked up to the indicated direction. “They are coming from eleven o’clock high,” she murmured over the short link to Alexi. Silently she heard his two clicks of acknowledgment. He always hated trying to talk while under G stress. She activated her long range sensors and linked them to the Eyes One channel and Alexi. Yuri and Dmitri were in the alert five spots on the carrier; she dumped a memo to feed them and Recon Bravo flight a live feed so they could get an idea on what they were up against.
Her sensors reported to the computer; in seconds an alien craft was projected on her retinas. It was large, easily three times larger than their fighters. Definitely alien from the glittering gold color and sharp lines. Almost a manta shape, with wing tip beam weapons and some sort of long whip-like tail trailing it. Her little intelligence computer worked over the data links feeding the data to the others.
“Alena, they are aliens,” Alexi said. She realized he was broadcasting broadband, making certain the clan got as much as possible. She wondered why briefly before realizing he wanted Eyes One to pick it up.
She opened her channels to max omni cast as well. “I know, Alexi. It looks like they lack missiles. However, at their speeds they must have enormous inertial sump reserves as well as shields,” she noted.
“Tune your sump to 110 percent, little one,” Alexi ordered. She started to protest this, SOP had it at 94 percent to keep the pilot in the seat and give them a feel for the craft. “No time, Alena, no time to argue! Just do it!” he growled. She sent the command to the computer and listened to him.
“Remember your training. Our fighters are hard to turn; she tends to wallow too much. The plasma guns recharge at…point one seconds…but the more you shoot the longer it takes to recharge between shots. It'll take even longer if your nose is in the sun. Keep on top of your shield controls. Balance your power,” he said.
She nodded as she flicked through her checklist, arming the missiles. Like Alexi she had six, four short range and two long range, not quite a good weapons mix against unknowns. “Don’t forget the sun; use it to your advantage. If you flip and put the guns in shadow, you will get a slight boost in recharge since they will cool faster, but they can crack too. Watch out for that,” he warned. He paused and she smiled. “They will try to get on our six; it is the best strategy. Stick together and we should be okay,” he said. Tears glittered in her eyes at that, and she let out an ironic laugh.
“Okay, first two customers are designated bandit one and two. Second pair bandits three and four, third pair are five and six. Bringing up target one. We are two minutes from beam weapons range,” he said. She entered the information, and then brought up the second bandit.
“Okay Alexi, I have painted bandit two,” Alena reported.
He confirmed it with a click. “I have bandit one. We are going to target them with both long range missiles; we have no idea how strong their shields are,” he said. She clicked twice in acknowledgment.
She heard the tone as the missiles locked on, rising in pitch to a steady whine. “Ready? Fox one fox two!” Alexi called. A brilliant pair of exhaust leapt from beneath his wings to rush out into the endless night.
Alena flicked the arming cover and pushed the trigger. “Fox one.” A second push and, “Fox two birds away!” She said. Alexi adjusted course slightly, putting them slightly below the enemy. The computer counted down to impact. Silently she flicked over to arm the first pair of short range missiles and cued them to bandit four.
“It looks like one of my birds has been spoofed,” Alexi managed to say just as the first splashes of explosions dotted her screen. One of her birds had hit, but the devil’s shield was hardly phased. The second, however, had flattened it. Alexi’s missile had impacted as well, but the shield was already regenerating. “Shit!” afterburners now, Alena! Down their throats!”
Their afterburners lit in synch, and they plunged towards their foes. The enemy pairs split up into separate flights, spacing out to give themselves room to fire. Invisible beams painted them; her computer picked them up and attempted to spoof them. Flares and bundles of chaff spewed out in clouds around them. Tiny pencil-shaped decoys fluttered out, trying to draw attention to themselves and away from their mother craft. A silver stream of plasma bolts lit the night; the human's vision automatically adjusted.
Alexi’s shields took a hit, and his ship shook. Together they began to weave around the bolts, making for a slightly harder target. Their own plasma fire ripped back, striking the enemy ships. For some reason, the enemy wasn’t dodging, not even attempting to get out of the line of fire. Call it arrogance or courage; they didn’t care, only in firing. Alexi had changed targets to hers, and together they pounded her recovering shields flat, then she shrieked in delight as her plasma pounded into the unprotected hull, ripping it up. Plasma glowed on it, burning metal and composite hull.
She felt her ship shudder as her shields took hits, and she flicked her power to her forward shields and bobbed. The enemy was good; their ECM was about matched. Suddenly, Alexi took another hit; his forward shield went down and his port intake ate a plasma ball. His side flared in sudden seeming anguish, and his ship rolled as if to cover the weakened side. Anguish was abruptly cut off as she cut under the enemy, and a plan emerged.
Already they were slowing to turn, and she didn’t have time to wallow. She cut her engines, eliciting a startled yelp from Alexi, “Alena, what are you doing you crazy, shiska!” she dimpled and used her RCS to pull herself into a tight flip, end over end and then stabilized. Her fire control lit up, and she fired a pair of missiles, both targeting the wounded target. It flared and then exploded. She cheered wildly as she powered up and spiraled out trying to re-acquire Alexi.
“I got one, Alexi!” she crowed triumphantly to him.
“…good, but one got me.” His strained voice came back to haunt her.
“How bad?” she asked and he replied quickly.
“Bad enough. Port engine is shot. Shields on that side are gone too. Fuel blisters on that side ejected as well.” He sighed in frustration over the vox. She shuddered and looked to him. “I am having a devil of a time trying to keep the ship balanced,” he said. She nodded. “It looks like they are regrouping.”
Indeed, she watched as they pulled together ten clicks off her starboard. The
y seemed to be just remaining there, odd, she thought, almost as if they weren't sure what to do. She turned her attention to Alexi. “Can you go dark and play possum?” she asked him quietly.
After a moment he replied, “No point.”
“No, I want you to lie low. I will lead them to you; you play sniper,” she told him as she sketched out a plan to him.
“This is crazy!” he sighed…“Yet…we are already past the point of no return. Best to die with an escort. Lead on shield maiden,” he said. His engines suddenly cut off and he tumbled. She felt concern then smiled wolfishly as his sensor shadow dimmed.
The five remaining alien fighters appeared to finish circling the explosion site of their dead brethren and began to angle toward her. She kept up the pretense of running, angling her course so they would pass near Alexi. With their superior speed he would have to fire when they were on top of him, if he waited to fire after they passed they would out accelerate his remaining missiles and outmaneuver his plasma fire.
It was risky gamble; with his ship damaged and low on fuel, he was a sitting duck. There was no guarantee that his last remaining engine would even relight. Shaking off feelings of dread, she watched the scope until they were on her six, then cut to starboard to angle around Alexi as planned.
Dark night erupted as Alexi’s last pair of missiles streaked out to the lead fighter, and then his fighter began firing rapid pulses of plasma in front of the enemy. He must have overridden the cooling she thought, but all thoughts of concern were dashed in the need to hold her end of the plan up.
The first fighter dodged one of the missiles but took a glancing hit by the second; its shields flared and then died. Plasma fire ripped into it from almost point blank range, tearing it apart. Alena cheered at first, then her elation died as she realized Alexi was waiting too long. “Alexi, light them up! Get out of there!” she called to him over their link.
“I can’t love; my fuel is gone, only maneuvering jets remain. But what I have, I will use,” he answered her. She felt her throat tighten as she watched his ship spin and then light up its plasma weapons on auto. Answering fire dotted the night, and she felt dead as his ship hammered by multiple hits suddenly exploded.
One of his killers had taken a brutal pounding in Alexi’s last moments; she pushed aside her grief to view the damage as she ran once more. They were twenty kilometers behind and below her, gaining on her slowly. She compiled the data she had on the enemy ships and with a stricken voice dictated a memo to the ship. She flicked a command through to dump the report and add to it at thirty-second intervals then turned her attention to her pursuers.
They weren’t trying very hard, an occasional ball of plasma passed her on either side from time to time, but they gave no indication of ending the pursuit. She puzzled over this for a few seconds, dodging a close shot then realized their intent. They didn’t want her dead, at least not yet. They were hoping she would run home, and then they would know where her ship was.
“Quite the sleigh ride, eh Alexi?” she smiled bitterly then glanced at her rear scope. “I think the wolves are in for a surprise from this prey, however.” She grinned wolfishly as she felt her ship rock as a near miss glanced her rear shields. She pulled power from the rear shields, taking a gamble and whispered to Alexi’s ghost. “I will be with you soon, my love.” She programmed the navigation computer for her maneuver, ruthlessly overriding its warnings and then slammed the throttle to zero as the last pair of plasma balls arched past below her ship.
In a quick maneuver, she flicked the yaw retro to send her end over end; recovering and slamming the throttle back to one hundred she felt the savage kick of inertia as her sump overloaded. Her two missiles flashed out, taking the lead bandit, shattering it with direct hits. Her attention flicked to her second target, bypassing the bandits three and four to slam plasma home into the bandit Alexi’s last missiles had damaged, watching in savage glee as it sputtered and writhed in fire like a spider before being torn apart.
She was through their formation in an instant, yodeling her victory to the stars as her enemy dropped from four to two. Hits began to slam into her, and she felt her elation die along with parts of her ship. Her fuel was down to under 5 percent, she was out of missiles, and her rear shields were overloaded. Her port engine was down to 60 percent…now 40 percent as another plasma ball cut through her shattered shields to tear into her.
Quietly she watched as her computer compiled more data and omni broadcast it. The diagnostic computer recommended cutting the constant communications, and she overruled it. She knew she was done; she just had one last duty to perform. Gently she moved the stick on a course to the sun.
“Recon Bravo to Recon Alpha!” The omni broadcast of the other flight broke through her fudge for a second. “Alena, the ships are ready for jump. Take a heading of two thirty by mark two one four point five to make it back to the ship.” The CAG’s voice was a surprise, until she realized it was a canned message forwarded by the Eyes One craft. She looked to the scope, noting that the one undamaged craft was breaking off and had taken a bearing on the Eyes One craft which was now at full power and racing for the last known position of the mother ships.
She tried a scissor, yawing and spinning, but her remaining foe was stubborn and good. He was through playing with her, now intent on taking her out. “Negative EYES, I am at bingo fuel. Get home. Hoist a few for Alexi and me,” she sent her last message then flicked her stick hard to port and cut the throttle just as her pursuer sent plasma by her.
<(|)>~~~~~<(|)>
He had chased the organic for some time, knowing it was using the local star to make it harder for him to hit it. The sudden attack was something the Zerinoth had been used to but rarely encountered. True, the hated machines were known for suicide attacks, but one from an organic took it momentarily by surprise.
That moment was just a moment too long as the alien's ship dove into the path of the damaged ship and cut power. Like a car on ice, the Zerinoth attempted to get out of the way, but it was too late.
A final glorious explosion lit the night sky, and the remaining Zerinoth clacked his jaws in a warrior’s salute as he returned to his ship in failure.
The old Zerinoth had ordered the young fool to abandon the kill and to return; his stupidity had caused his premature culling. Best for the race he felt as he contemplated fate. The scanners had reported the pilots as bipedal younglings, and their valor was something…noteworthy.
Slipping into a trance he felt the flood of combat amphetamines flow out of his system, to be collected by his implants for future use. He programmed the autopilot to return him to his mother ship then slipped into an auto trance to compose his report.
The End
Hunters: The Karnack Rex and the Hellcat
Note: This was my first Metalwar story.
Dusk was beginning, and the injured Quillboar had finally made a mistake. The Karnack Rex, a massive bipedal predator with pre-sentience, had been stalking its wounded prey for some time. The Karnack paused near a tree to smell the spore on the leaves…blood ichor, and it was fresh, matching his prey’s scent signature. Nostrils flared as it drank in the scent once more.
Claws gripped the tree and tore tremendous gouges in the bark of the tree in anticipation. Its prey was near death. The wound the Karnack had inflicted earlier had been severe but mortal after all. The Karnack clacked its teeth together and moved on. Raising its mighty head it reared back and scented the air. It wrapped its right hand around a branch to steady itself as it turned suddenly with the wind.
His tail slashed as a counterbalance. Smelling the air, the bull recognized the scent of ozone and water…turning its eye to the sky it tried to peer up to through the jungle canopy to the sky. Rain soon, the bull determined with a huff. It would be difficult to track the Quillboar if it began soon.
The bull shook its head, clacking its headdress horns against the thing wrapped around its neck. The thing was irritating. It hummed from time to time,
and parasites had burrowed under it to infest the scales. Itching at the band in annoyance, the bull turned and began to stalk its wounded dinner once more.
(|)^(|)
The prey was slow; it stalked another, not knowing of the hellcat’s gaze and intent. The prey matched the criteria in the robot's targeting program: it had bifocal vision, it was bipedal, an omnivore, had clothes, could use tools, and was emitting electronic radio emissions. The hellcat attempted to search its database for known targets and weaknesses but could not find any.
Subprograms weighed in opposition over sending a report to the base. The base had missed its last two checks, and the one report it had sent had called in an enemy air strike on its position. The air strike had damaged the hellcat, dropping its vision to 61.32 percent of optimal, and its movement to 78.43 percent.
Self-repair programs had rerouted what it could, but it needed repairs soon to maintain optimal efficiency. Its superconductor batteries had sufficient charge for several more planetary cycles, so its core program had continued its patrol. Now with this target within its sights, it tried again to reach the base; it needed the hive mind. It formed a sitrep data pack and sent it in a burst to the nearest communication relay, and then vacated the area, still stalking its organic prey.
(|)^(|)
The bull spotted the Quillboar as it staggered into a clearing and collapsed with its back to the predator. It shuddered a few times and struggled to get up before lying still. The bull Karnack stalked slowly into the clearing, pausing; it decided to circle the fallen herbivore to make sure it was dead. The herbivore had massive quills that stuck out of its hips and over its shoulders, and the bull knew from painful experience to approach a wounded boar from the soft underbelly.