Christina growled and her lip lifted in a snarl, not at Terry Henry, but in response to the adrenaline surge. “K’Thrall and Slicker, number one…”
She selected the ten warriors, those who had demonstrated they could work together, and sent them onto the drop ships. Auburn took charge of the remaining members of the new platoon, to hold them in reserve to deploy as needed.
Terry and Char joined Kimber, squeezing into the back of the shuttle before working their way up front. Christina added herself to K’Thrall’s pod.
Kai waved to her. She smiled in reply, a warrior’s smile, confident and fierce.
Smedley, button up the drop ships and get everyone into their hoods. Skipper, when you’re ready, form the gate and send the fleet through. Ted, the instant the first ship hits the event horizon of the Axe’s gate, execute your jump to the far side of the system.
“All hand, all hands, prepare to transit the gate. Hoods, please, and assume your damage control stations.”
Ramses’ Chariot
“Stop it, you’re going to tear your suit.”
Dokken continued to roll around on the deck, making noises reminiscent of a Wookie. How do you wear these things? I itch all over!
“You demanded a suit. Now you have a suit. Now you’re unhappy with the suit and are demanding to be let out of your suit. No! The answer is all kinds of no. I will not have you exposed to space if something happens. You and my father almost died. I won’t have it.”
Dokken stood and shook. The elongated bubble covered his muzzle, but wasn’t tall enough. His ears were crushed against the top of the clear material. He panted heavily, fogging the area in front of his face, which made him even more anxious. The rest of it looked like pajamas with feet. The first time Cory saw it, she tried not to laugh, but couldn’t stop herself.
That didn’t help the dog welcome his shipsuit.
The party on board Ramses’ Chariot waited for the word. Ted sat in the captain’s chair. His hood was up and the bubble inflated, but he didn’t remember putting it on. Plato and he maintained a running dialogue of scenarios and computations. Ted had the holo screens surrounding him as he prepared to fight a battle that only he and Plato contemplated. Ankh had fought the battle of the minds with Ten, and Ted hoped that once again, they’d be able to link minds to overcome the evil AI.
On the screen before them, they watched a massive gate form in front of the War Axe. They tensed as one. Even Bundin stopped his stalk-head from swaying. The Harborian battleship maneuvered slowly in front of the War Axe and slipped over the event horizon. The destroyers, being smaller and more maneuverable, quickly arrayed themselves to follow.
The gate formed in front of Ramses’ Chariot. The frigate disappeared from all screens and shot through the opening, accelerating away from the gate at the other end, into the gravity well of Home World’s system, beyond known space.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The War Axe
“Report!” Micky ordered after they followed the last Harborian ship through the gate and reentered space at the far reaches of Home World’s system.
“Sensors are online and gathering data,” Smedley reported.
Clifton worked feverishly over his controls as he took the positions of the other nine ships to coordinate and plot an approach vector.
The screen showed clear. “Accelerate into the heliosphere.” Micky watched the board, waiting for it to populate with icons and information.
“Acceleration underway. ETA to orbit is twenty-five minutes.” Clifton slowed his movements until he was only making minor adjustments. The Harborian battlewagon led the parade of ships toward Home World.
Icons blinked into existence, appearing outside the planet.
A lot of icons. “How many?” Micky asked.
“Data is still assimilating,” Smedley replied. Micky drummed his fingers impatiently. The good king Wenceslaus meowed angrily at the interruption, ran down Micky’s leg, vaulted to the deck, and trotted toward the hatch. It opened readily and out he went.
When the captain looked back at the screen, the grim news was displayed. One hundred and seventy-five enemy ships. Ten ships of the line. Thirty battleships, and one hundred and thirty-five tin cans. Scores of cargo ships and transports were designated with an orange icon—probable non-combatant.
“Are you seeing what we’re seeing, TH?”
Terry replied from the drop ship. “They don’t appear to be welcoming us with open arms.”
Micky leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face as he thought. Terry didn’t sound concerned. Why was Micky?
“Because we’re outnumbered seventeen to one until they disable the Harborian ships, and then we’ll be outnumbered one-hundred and seventy-five to one. Unless the ships identified as non-combatants are hostile, and then it’ll be two hundred and fifty to one. Maybe that’s why I’m concerned!” Micky blurted out loud.
“Your mic is on,” Terry told him.
“Oops,” Micky replied. “I won’t believe that their EMP weapons won’t affect us until I see it for myself and I’m not too keen on testing Ted’s theory.”
“I doubt it’s just a theory, but we also have the ace in the hole. Are they reacting to us yet?”
“It looks like the pickets, the outermost ring of ships, are starting to come this way,” Micky answered.
“Are they reacting to anything else?”
“Just us.” Micky didn’t sound happy.
“What’s the plan, Skipper?”
“We are spreading the Harborian ships across a broad front. We’ll hit the enemy shits with a single pulse and hopefully disable the first wave. Then we’ll stay the course and hopefully, it’ll work a second time. We’ll use it until they are out of commission and then we’ll plow through. As soon as we can launch the drop ships, you’ll be on your way and we’ll fight our way out.”
“Assuming Ten is on the surface. Is there a space station of any sort?”
“There are very few artificial satellites, and they are of a style to relay communications signals,” Smedley interjected.
“Feed us as much as much data as you can collect. We’ll stay in touch. Time to fight the ship,” Terry said, using the age old naval expression that captains gave when they took their ship into battle, treating the ship as its own entity to fight the enemy. Fight the ship, aye, the crew would respond and become one with their battle stations, ready to stand toe to toe with the enemy, duke it out until one vessel struck its colors or headed to the bottom of the ocean.
“Fight the ship, aye,” Micky replied.
Ramses’ Chariot
Ted was hard at work, but the others didn’t know at what. The frigate maintained its speed as it closed on the planet. The inbound vector was free of enemy ships.
Everyone waited silently for Ted to say something. When the Chariot flowed into a low-altitude orbit around Home World, Cory spoke.
“You have to tell us what’s going on, Uncle Ted.” He wasn’t her uncle, but she always called him that. Her mother’s werewolf pack had become aunts and uncles. They acted as family should, there for each other when needed.
“We are going to get close enough to wrap Ten in a gravitic shield, then we’ll do battle the old way.”
“Two men with clubs trying to brain each other?” Cory suggested. Petricia snickered.
“The intellect of the stagnant king challenged by the upstart stranger with the indomitable will.”
“So you’re going to mentally club each other into submission?”
“Plato and I will bury the creature known as Ten in a trap of our making. We will remove it and free the humans of Home World.” Ted snarled while he looked past his holo screens.
Cory shielded her mouth and whispered into Joseph’s ear. “Is he okay? Because he doesn’t sound okay.”
Joseph’s eyes unfocused for a moment. When he opened them, he smiled and winked. “Have no fear, Cordelia. We are in good hands.”
The War Axe
The Harborian fleet spread out, creating a wide front before the War Axe. As the Home World picket came into range, the Harborian EMP weapons were activated with a single command. The incoming ships stopped maneuvering, stopped broadcasting, and continued on ballistic trajectories, having lost all power.
“Yes!” Terry pumped his fist, cheering at the screen. Char nodded, smiling with relief. The other warriors in the drop ship cheered.
***
On the bridge, Captain San Marino also celebrated his relief. He hadn’t thought it would work. “Oh ye of little faith,” he told himself, before speaking more loudly. “Stay the course, Clifton.”
“Aye, aye, sir!” the helmsman replied over his shoulder. He made a minor adjustment to avoid one of the powerless ships that passed nearby.
The Harborian ships approached the next wave, but started to slow down.
“Smedley, why are you slowing the fleet?”
“It’s not me,” the AI replied.
“Oh, no.” Micky sat stiffly in his chair and watched the Harborian fleet join Ten’s ship on a wide arc before the War Axe. The ships that had passed powered up and turned around. “That’s more what I expected. Maximum power to the gravitic shields, and God help us if they don’t hold.”
***
In the hangar bay, two Black Eagles waited for the word. Aaron’s hand started to shake. Insurmountable odds were outside the Axe’s hangar doors. He was comfortable flying the spacefighter, but that took all his concentration. Flying and fighting at the same time? It was one step too far. He focused on his hand, trying to will it to stop shaking.
His hand refused to comply.
Yanmei growled as she saw the enemy ships closing on the War Axe. Of course, it was a trap. No one expected anything less from Ten, but the ease at which it was executed surprised her.
She wanted to engage the enemy, shoot them down, but not until the EMP weapons were taken offline. She wouldn’t get one centimeter out of the hangar bay before getting disabled. She growled again, the feeling of helplessness growing.
***
Terry Henry gave the finger to the screen. “We’re coming for you,” he told the icons on the screen. They continued to move toward the War Axe, tightening the net.
“Come on, Ted. We need some of your magic if we’re going to survive the hour,” Terry pleaded with the screen.
***
“What do you think is going on?” Xianna asked.
Jenelope took another sip of her fruit smoothie. They weren’t expected to prepare a meal for the foreseeable future, so they were relaxing. When the ship’s crew was ordered to combat stations, theirs was the galley. With the bulkheads secured, even if they wanted to violate the order, they couldn’t. So they made the best of it.
Takeaway meals were ready if they needed to get something to the crew, but that would take a concerted effort to release the bulkheads.
As long as that wasn’t happening, there was nothing to do.
“I think the professionals are handling it. We can tap into what the bridge is seeing.” Jenelope brought up the video screen and instantly regretted it. They were flying into the middle of a vast fleet of enemy ships.
Xianna didn’t seem concerned.
“Is it always like this?”
Jenelope thought for a moment. “It is. We go in against seemingly insurmountable odds, and the captain and the colonel do their thing. Next you know it, we’re holding a big party. What do you say we get started on a cake to end all cakes? We can roll your wedding reception into it. Who cares about a little old battle? The good guys will win. They always do. This will be about you and Eldis.”
Xianna smiled and giggled. She looked human, but her skin was green and her ears pointed. She might have been considered an elf in old human folklore. But she was from Torregidor, a small, jungle planet. Being agile was a natural trait to help the race move through the trees.
She hopped to her feet, jumped to the top of a chair, then vaulted across to another chair, doing a pirouette in between. From the last chair, she did a backflip to land in the kitchen.
“Were you always like that?” Jenelope asked.
“Like what?”
“Nimble as a cat.”
“I don’t know what a cat is, but I expect it is something nimble.” She laughed as she found her apron and put it on.
“They always land on their feet.” Jenelope walked around the tables and strolled into the kitchen. “Why did you leave your home planet?”
“The stars. To dance among the trees is one thing, but to dance among the stars is a gift from heaven.”
Jenelope hugged the young woman. “I wish everyone had that kind of perspective on life.”
She glanced back to the screen as she held onto her helper. A warning flashed on the screen. Brace for impact.
Ramses’ Chariot
“We’re going to lose the War Axe!” Cory pounded on Ted’s back. A smaller screen showed the entire Home World fleet, including the Harborian vessels, closing on their ship.
“We’re not going to lose the War Axe. The last of Ten’s code was supposed to have been purged. I need to have words with Ankh and Smedley when we get back.”
“If they’re still alive,” Cory shot back. She continued to beat on Ted’s back until Joseph pulled her away.
“He’s working on it,” he tried to reassure her.
“I shall prepare to disembark,” Bundin said, shuffling down the corridor to the cargo bay. Once they landed, he would exit using the cargo hatch. He wanted to pick up his railguns and conduct one last systems check. In Bundin’s opinion, this battle would be won on the ground using kinetic weapons. He didn’t understand how anyone could fight using computers. The Podder wanted to blow something up.
Lots of somethings, if they raised their heads to protect the surreal entity known as Ten.
On the bridge, Cory buried her head against Joseph’s chest, refusing to watch anyone else die.
“Once I activate the shutdown sequence, they’ll lose their satellites, but we’ll be exposed, so expect a bumpy ride as we dive into the atmosphere. We’ll be able to reactivate our cloak, but only after we’ve dissipated the heat from reentry.”
“Are you going to let the War Axe know?” Joseph asked, leaning over Cory’s head.
“They’ll find out when it’s activated. I can’t give away our position with a nonsensical transmission,” came Ted’s curt reply.
Dokken tucked his tail between his legs. He never enjoyed reentry. He leaned heavily against Cory, wedging himself between the humans, staying behind the captain’s chair so he didn’t have to watch.
“Plato, drop the cloak and jam those satellites.”
***
“Target the lead carrier and fire the mains,” Micky ordered.
“Firing,” Smedley replied. “Circling the line of flight.”
The War Axe’s main weapons were massive railguns firing relatively small projectiles. The weapons could twirl, minutely, to deliver a pattern around an incoming target, bracketing it in a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree area. No matter which way the target juked, projectiles would be there.
But the enemy ship didn’t maneuver. It maintained course through the heart of the incoming projectiles. They plunged through the shields and tore through the ship. Explosions racked the hull.
Micky didn’t have time to watch the ship come apart. Any humans on board died with their ship.
“Bring mains to bear on the second carrier.”
The EMP weapons cascaded against the shields, the energy increasing as ships closed the range and added their power to the attack.
“Shields holding. We’re slowing,” Clifton reported. His hands danced across his console.
“Why are we slowing? Blow through their lines!”
“It’s like we’re wading through mud, and the mud is getting deeper!”
“Their ships of the line are launching fighters,” Smedley said.
“Smedley, activate the defe
nsive grid and prepare to fire, and Clifton, get this ship moving!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Ramses’ Chariot
The instant the cloak dropped, Plato raised the gravitic shields and activated the heavily-modified EMP weapon. The Chariot accelerated along an arcing trajectory in a high orbit. The frigate’s railguns blasted the closest satellite. The ship continued powering through maximum acceleration. The ship would complete its orbit of the planet in less than two minutes.
Plasma beams reached out and the ship started to juke, skipping off the upper atmosphere to defeat the weapons. The ship slowed enough to conduct a series of erratic course changes. Even with the shields, the plasma beams could damage the ship.
Ted couldn’t have that. Plato fired at greater and greater ranges to remove the satellites while they were inoperable.
Cory winced when she looked at the screen. The War Axe was embroiled within the massive enemy fleet. She tore her gaze from the images and turned away. Joseph continued to hold her while Petricia rubbed one hand absentmindedly up and down her back. Dokken couldn’t see anything from where he stood.
He thought that was probably for the best.
Bundin stood by the cargo bay door, tentacles holding tightly to the railguns, waiting.
The War Axe
The ship screamed ahead. Clifton’s eyes shot wide at the sudden acceleration. He worked the controls and flew the War Axe between the ships of Home World’s fleet.
“Smedley?” Micky asked, but not as concerned as he had been a moment earlier.
“The EMP systems are offline and the enemy ships have assumed a neutral stance. We are free to approach the planet.”
The screen showed the icons behind them, static instead of flashing, which would indicate a moving ship.
***
Terry Henry pumped his fist anew. “Go Ted!”
“All hail Ted!” Char exclaimed, before sobering. “Is there a report of their position?”
“They’re in a comm blackout. We won’t hear anything.” Terry watched the screen. The only thing moving was the War Axe as it powered toward Home World. “The fact that they’ve disabled the Home World fleet tells me that the real battle is underway.”
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