IRON SPEAR

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IRON SPEAR Page 9

by Anthony Thackston


  “What’s going on?” Syracuse asked.

  “You wanna know? I’ll tell you. We got less that three days to cover an impossible distance. Even with the gates and the regulator, we still ain’t gonna make it to Jupiter in time. We were gonna run outta gas but Brooks solved that problem. Now if we can just travel light speed, we’ll be good to go. But since we can’t travel that fast, we’re gonna be too late.”

  “Too late?”

  “Yeah, Durham! Too late. Catters win. We lose.” Irons slumped back in the Captain’s seat.

  The crew stared in silent disbelief. No one had ever seen James Irons look defeated before. And for good reason. It had never happened. Everyone expected that were that day to ever come, it would be him staring down a battalion, gun in hand and going out in a blaze of glory. Not sitting in a chair and running out the clock.

  “So that’s it?” Benjamin’s voice chimed in through the Neural Transmitter. “You just give up?”

  “I thought you were radio silent till we were off the moon.” Irons grumbled.

  “I was. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been listening. Thanks for saving who you could on the moon.”

  “What does it matter? The Catter’s are gonna be here in two days and we need at least half a day more. Wasted too much time dealing with—”

  “I always figured there was another side to you,” Benjamin interrupted. “I just didn’t think it was a quitter.”

  “Just a minute, Stevens,” Syracuse said.

  “No, Commander Hill. This needs to be said. Look at all you’ve already accomplished. All the victories you’ve won just getting this far.”

  “The moon ain’t far,” Irons said through clenched teeth.

  “It’s closer than you were. And now you want to throw that away? Your team doesn’t. I can hear it in their voices. Even Durham and we all know he doesn’t really want to be there.”

  “Hey, now,” Durham protested.

  “Oh, shut it, Durham.”

  Durham frowned, ready to protest anyone else but the Captain or Commander talking to him that way. But he held his tongue, thinking better of it.

  “We’re talking about the enslavement of the Earth and everyone in it,” Benjamin went on.

  “This was always a long shot and you know it, Stevens,” Irons said.

  “You’re right, Captain. You’re right. One old war ship turned mining vessel against who knows how many larger and more advanced Ka’traxis Brood ships. You’re right, this was always a long shot.”

  Irons’s brow furrowed even more at what sounded like an insult to his ship.

  “The Admiral is asking you to succeed. All of Earth is asking you to succeed. I’m—”

  “Asking for the same. I get it.” Irons stood.

  “No, Captain. I would love that. But no. I’m just asking you to try.”

  Irons’s eye darted straight for Lindsay Brooks who stood at parade rest awaiting orders. Regardless of the odds, there she was, the good soldier. Bred for the military from generations back. It was all she knew and all she wanted to know.

  He moved to Hannah who wasn’t giving up. Even at that moment she was running the math in her head, trying to figure out a solution.

  Durham let out a sigh. Even he was trying to sort out the newest obstacle. For all of his faults, he was still reliable in a fight. Even if he did complain most of the way through.

  Finally Irons’s gaze rested on Syracuse Hill, who only returned the stare.

  “Worst case scenario,” Syracuse said. “We take out a bunch of them before they can wormhole to Earth. The fleet may be gone but we still got ground troops. We can make their fight easier. Whether we really are too late or not, Earth ain’t going down that easy.”

  Irons lightly snickered. “That’s just what the Army needs. An easier fight.”

  “It about all they can handle, sir,” Lindsay said.

  “Would ya look at that,” Durham said. “I love it when the pretty ones have a sense of humor.”

  “Shut it, Durham,” Irons said already sounding like his old self. “You all drive a hard bargain. I appreciate the pep talk. But don’t let it happen again.”

  “Sir,” the crew said in unison. Even Benjamin joined in on accepting the order.

  “Alright, Stevens, since you’re back with us, you got another plan? Some secret gadget that’s gonna make this work?”

  “No gadgets this time,” the CEO said. “Just gravity and good old fashioned piloting.”

  Eighteen

  Rollercoasters Do It, Too

  Syracuse furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about, Stevens?”

  “Slingshot!” Hannah blurted out.

  “Slingshot,” Benjamin repeated. “There are five Hypergates between you and Mars. The gates will give you a speed boost of—“

  “Rayweather told me,” Irons said. “Get to it.”

  “Right. Once you pass the fifth gate you should see Mars. Past that gate, I’ll lose all communications with the Lucky Liberty. You’ll be completely on your own. No Admiral. No Wartech.”

  “What about the base on Mars?” Lindsay asked.

  “I mean new ideas. New theories,” Benjamin said. “Once at Mars, any new or additional scientific solutions will be solely on your shoulders, Specialist Xuyen.”

  Irons looked at Hannah. “Can you handle that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then I’ll let her explain it,” Benjamin said.

  “Captain. The Hypergates plus the regulator at its narrowest will give us a total speed of roughly two point two million miles an hour. Once we see Mars, we’ll need to steer into its gravity just enough to pull the ship toward the planet while still being able to pull out of the well. The gravity assist should add an extra five percent speed boost.”

  “Will that make the deadline?”

  “Not exactly but it might be enough for the Catters to notice us and forgo the deadline.”

  “It ain’t perfect but it’s all we got.” Irons motioned for the throttle.

  “Hang on,” Durham started. “We’re just gonna go that fast and pray we don’t run into something?”

  “The Bull Head is down,” Syracuse said. “That thing hits anything in our way at that speed, it will be dust.”

  “Oh, ok. Well I feel better now,” Durham said sarcastically. “That just means we rely on the Queen to give us a little extra time when we show up late. And she’s been so understanding so far.”

  “She likes to play games,” Benjamin said. “You’ll have to work that to your advantage.”

  “Then I guess it’s settled. Hannah,” Irons said. “Find Mars Base’s transmission frequency and lock it in. I want that thing on speed dial so they don’t try and shoot us down when we pass by.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Durham, put out a long range scan. I got faith we’ll dust anything in our way but I’d prefer to avoid a collision if we can.”

  Durham sighed, uncomfortable with the idea of hitting anything at that speed. “You got it, Boss.”

  “Sir?” Lindsay said, ready for her own orders.

  “You just rest up, Whether we’re late or not, I got a feeling we’re gonna have a fight on our hands. I want you wide-eyed and ready.”

  “Yes, sir,” Lindsay said with some reluctance.

  “Hannah, keep running the numbers. If there’s any way to go faster, I wanna know it.”

  Hannah, didn’t bother with a reply. She just got to work.

  “Where do you need me, Albatross?” Syracuse asked.

  “You still got that bottle?”

  “Captain!” Hannah shouted. “The gangplank door is lowering.”

  “On whose order?”

  “Override codes I’ve never seen before.”

  “Now what?” Durham asked.

  Nineteen

  Race to the Gas Giant

  Lindsay drew her Ice Gun, ready for a fight.

  “Don’t be alarmed, Captain,” Natalia’s voice came over t
he intercom.

  “What is it now, Rayweather?”

  “I wanted to give you a small thank you for your service, today. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “If you don’t mind burning daylight.”

  “Check your cargo bay cameras. Whether you get any use out of it or not, I think you’ll like the addition.”

  Hannah brought up the cargo bay cameras. A lone Wartech ship hovered into the bay and landed in a rather cushioned sort of way. There was little to no shock as its struts touched down on the Lucky Liberty’s cargo bay floor.

  “That could come in handy.” Syracuse nodded.

  “There’s one more thing,” Natalia told them. “I hear you might be the most interested in this, Miss Xuyen.”

  Hannah stared at the screen with interest. The distorted ripple was unmistakable.

  “An FAC? You installed an FAC on the ship?”

  The blue wave of the energy field rippled like a passing wind blowing on a sheet hanging out to dry.

  “Just in case something like that is useful,” Natalia said.

  “I appreciate the added support, Rayweather.” Irons smiled.

  “It’s the least I could do, Captain Irons.”

  “But next time you wanna load something on my boat, ask.”

  “I will bear that in mind. Safe travels.”

  “Thanks,” Irons said. “Let’s get to it.”

  Hannah closed the cargo bay door while Irons hit the air pressure thrusters, lifting the ship several feet off the floor of the loading dock.

  “Deactivating the artificial gravity,” Natalia said.

  Everything in the dock was strapped down and the few workers who were still in the dock kept from floating in the air by way of magnetic adhesion boots.

  Irons hit the bow side air pressure thrusters and sent the Lucky Liberty backwards to the exit.

  * * *

  It would have been an amazing sight to see the giant space cruiser backing out from inside the moon. But everyone hoped that no one on Earth was gazing through a telescope at the moment. Sure there a few people in high seats of government that knew of Wartech’s base inside of the moon. Things of that scope had to be agreed upon. But if the citizenry were to ever find out, it might cause a two fronted battle and right now Earth officials needed to keep the citizens focused on the potential Catter invasion. Not to mention the potential profit loss to Wartech. But company profits weren’t exactly a high priority for those on the USS Lucky Liberty.

  As the ship pulled back from the moon, Irons watched the door to the Earth’s debatably natural satellite close.

  “How’s my map look, Durham?” Irons asked.

  “The route is clear.”

  “Any signs of movement from those Catter shells?”

  “Those ships are dead, Boss. Broke, busted and done.” Durham brushed his hands together as if knocking off dust.

  “Let’s get a few more to join them. Where’s the first gate?”

  “About three hundred yards on the other side of the moon, sir,” Hannah said. “We’ll need full thrust with the Slipstream Regulator at its narrowest.”

  “Roger that.”

  James Irons kept the pressure thrust from the bow, blowing about quarter power.

  “How far back you planning?” Syracuse asked.

  “I wanna make sure we hit that gate at max velocity,” Irons told him.

  “Scans still show the way is clear, Boss,” Durham said.

  “Let’s go save the Earth.” Irons shut off the bow thrusters and activated the main rockets. The laser-like beam shot out from the rear, throwing the Lucky Liberty forward at speeds few of the crew were ready for.

  The ship blasted around the curvature of the moon, shearing off moon rocks and dust as it created its own sort of vacuum.

  “Hypergate in range,” Hannah said. “Thrusters at seventy-five percent…Eighty…Ninety…”

  The octagonal ring stayed locked in place, unaffected by the Earth’s gravity. Red lights flashed along its edges. An inner ring spun quickly in a counter-clockwise motion. As the ship got closer, Irons could see what looked like shooting stars flying away from the gate on the other side. It was like looking into a black hole as it flung light away from them.

  The ship buckled once as the field of the Hypergate caught it and dragged it toward the spinning opening.

  “Max velocity!” Hannah yelled just before the Lucky Liberty shot into the Hypergate.

  Hypergates weren’t light speed tunnels but anything watching the exit side would barely have time to notice a vehicle coming out. The speeds from the gate alone were tremendous. But adding a vehicle already going a speed too fast to fathom would make it nearly impossible to visibly detect anything. Including anything as large as the Lucky Liberty.

  The crew watched the display, shocked at the light rays that passed them by as they rocketed through space.

  “How long till we reach the next gate?” Irons asked.

  “The gates are three hours apart. If I divert all non-essential power to the engines…Two and a half hours until the next gate,” Hannah said.

  “Do it.”

  “Aye, Captain.” Hannah input commands on her console.

  The lights aboard the bridge were the first things to go out before the ship kicked forward slightly. Only the main display screen and the control consoles illuminated the room.

  “That’s about fifteen hours to Mars,” Syracuse said. “Jupiter’s even farther.”

  “Let’s just hope that slingshot maneuver does the trick.”

  “That or make J think this boat is a ball of string.”

  The two old war dogs laughed at the thought.

  “You asked about a bottle,” Syracuse reminded him.

  “Yeah, let’s knock a few back.” Irons smiled.

  “You sure getting drunk’s a good idea right now, Boss?” Durham asked.

  “You just watch that horizon.”

  “Yes, sir.” Durham turned back to the display.

  * * *

  The mess hall of the ship was far less furnished than it used to be. Rows of steel folding tables once lined that section of the ship. After the decommissioning, most of the old war boats became mining or transport vessels. All were converted to carrying freight so tearing out non-essential parts became the duty of the military for awhile. The ships belonged to them so they could do whatever they wanted. A few were completely dismantled. Lucky for the Earth, James ‘Albatross’ Irons’s ship wasn’t one of them.

  Four fold out tables were all that remained of the mess hall aboard the ship. Irons and Syracuse sat at one of them.

  “When was the last time we did this?” Syracuse said as he opened a quarter full bottle of scotch.

  “There was that time this old girl had that turbine fire. Remember that rock? Bigger than this ship and nothing but aluminum.”

  Both men laughed at the memory.

  “How long did we wait for fleet maintenance?” Syracuse gulped down his drink.

  “Almost three days.” Irons knocked back his glass.

  Syracuse shook his head. “Durham read the wrong signals that second night.”

  “I thought Brooks was gonna knock my head off trying to pull her off him,” Irons chuckled.

  “That girl throws a mean hook.” Syracuse refilled both glasses.

  “Good times.” Irons raised his in a toast.

  The two clinked glasses together.

  * * *

  “Fifteen hours of this?” Durham complained. “I’m gonna lose my mind.”

  “Would you rather have something to shoot at?” Hannah asked.

  They were the only two on the bridge. The hum of the electronic workings of the consoles was a sound they’d grown used to. It was a stuffy sort of hum, like walking into a computer server room for the first time. Anyone new on the ship might have gotten a small bout of vertigo or a little dizzy spell. But the crew of the Lucky Liberty had long since learned how to embrace it.

  “I’ve ha
d enough to shoot at, thanks,” Durham stretched his arms upward. “Can’t say the same for Brooks.”

  “I just hope she’s getting some rest.”

  “I’m sure she’s already field stripped one of those Wartech rifles in the weapons locker.”

  Hannah grinned. “Blindfolded.”

  * * *

  While Durham and Hannah made fun at Lindsay Brooks expense, both knew they were close to being right.

  A single lamp lit the otherwise dim room of the weapons store. The room was designed solely for functionality with its gun racks and lockers stuffed with tactical gear. No place on the ship was really meant for aesthetic design. After all, what good was a pretty war ship? But the weapons store was particularly utilitarian. It was perfect for Lindsay Brooks as she sat on the cold floor reassembling one of the Wartech rifles. The only reason she wasn’t blindfolded was that the weapon was new to her. This was more research into learning how every part worked. Every part that was familiar to her, anyway. Wartech had a penchant for loading up their weapons beyond the bare essentials. Admittedly, doing so had created some of the most efficient firearms and weapons systems the military had ever received. That sometimes made dissembling the guns hard even for the well oiled military machine of Lindsay Brooks. The current rifle was giving her a particularly difficult time.

  Frustrated, she slammed a strange looking box on the floor after several attempts at trying to fit it back in its place in front of the magazine well. “Stupid…I just need a trigger and a bullet.”

  “I know what you’re talking about,” Benjamin said.

  She went rigid. “Stevens!”

  “Sorry, Private. I don’t mean to intrude.”

  “I don’t like being spied on.”

  “I assure you, I can’t see you at all. It’s only audio. I wouldn’t bother you except I heard you mumbling a few things and—well, I realized what gun you were messing with.”

  “Why would you design it this way?”

  “The 10X DMG. We call it The Damage. Don’t feel bad. No one has really been able to reassemble one of those. Only the designers, engineers and, not to brag, but myself. That’s by design. In case an enemy were to ever get a hold of it for reverse engineering.”

 

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