The Veritian Derelict (Junkyard Dogs)

by Nolte, Phillip

  It didn't take long before they were put to work. One of the enemy cargo ships had been converted to use as a troop transport. With the inventory from three modern warships at their disposal, the enemy had somewhere around fifty sets of battle armor. The Scrapyard defense team, meanwhile, had less than half that number and all but a fourth of the fighting suits were antiques that had been captured from the terrorist group that had attacked the Scrapyard and the Orbital Station a couple months earlier. The defenders had elected to use most of their armor, particularly the old sets, in purely defensive roles, meaning the operators were not encouraged to leave their respective ships unless the situation demanded it. Those equipped with the most modern battle, armor, the two Federation Marine contingents and one group of four Meridian Imperial Marines, were outside in the Scrapyard in an attempt to neutralize any enemy assault troops that threatened to attack and board any of the Federation ships.

  The Marines were to wait until the last minute to reveal their presence. Kresge and Ambassador Saladin were pretty sure that the enemy had remained unaware of the three lightweight pulse cannons that the defenders possessed. Kresge and the Federation Marines had mounted their two cannons on the two Scrapyard utility sleds, Rovers I and II. To avoid being hit by heavy weapons fire, the Marines had practiced working with the utility sleds, keeping something between them and the enemy, taking no more than two shots, and then, using the cover provided by a wreck or two or three, moving the utility sled to another spot before setting up to fire again. Kelly's group was ready to begin firing, they were just waiting for the best opportunity to do so.

  Kelly watched in growing alarm as armor-clad troops began exiting the enemy transport vessel. Kelly counted that somewhere around a dozen men had left the ship when he finally made the decision to open fire.

  "It's time," said Kelly, with some urgency. "Target the ones coming out of the door of the transport, Clancy. Maybe we can keep them bottled up inside for a while. Two shots and then we move!"

  The cannon itself was small enough to be handled by a team of three. Davis-Moore did the aiming and firing while the other two tended to the capacitors that powered the gun. The capacitor module for the gun was attached to the projector or "stinger" of the gun by a three meter long, flexible cable. This arrangement kept the projector portion of the emplacement light and maneuverable and, depending upon where the gun was deployed, also enabled the capacitor tenders to remain under whatever cover was available as they switched out depleted capacitors for fresh ones. Each gun was equipped with ten capacitor modules, with each module good for five pulses, before the spent module would need to be switched out for a fresh one. The capacitor change took less than ten seconds when performed by an experienced crew.

  Davis-Moore took aim at the open doorway of the transport vessel, waited for the next figure in battle armor to fill the doorway, and squeezed the firing stud. A pulse of charged plasma lashed out and caught the enemy in the chest section of his armor. The bolt passed completely through the front of the armor and out the back, instantly killing the man inside. The armor, spewing a fog of atmosphere and bodily fluids that vaporized instantly upon contact with the vacuum of space, slammed into the inside wall of the airlock. The dead man in the bulky armor was now blocking the airlock door, keeping more than half of the enemy troops temporarily bottled up inside the transport. Clancy immediately targeted one of the troops that had already made it to the outside. Again the bolt struck home, with much the same result. The rest of the exposed, armor-clad enemy soldiers began to frantically search out whatever cover they could find. The gun team leader, Kelly, who also acted as observer for his teammates while they fed and fired the gun, noticed that the forward main battery turret of the Perseus was beginning to turn.

  Towards them!

  "No more time," he said urgently, "They're targeting us! Move! Now!"

  Perry Allen, calmly and professionally working the controls on the Rover I, put the hull of the wreck they been shielded by before they had popped up from behind it to attack the borders, back between themselves and the rotating turret before heading as quickly as he could manage towards the stern of the old wreck. Just as Allen put the hull of the wreck between them and the destroyer, he and the gun crew saw a splash of white and watched as a shudder went through the wreck they were shielded by. The pulse had penetrated the hull material of the old ship on one side but had not been powerful enough to go clear through.

  Meanwhile the other team of Federation Marines and the Meridian team had taken out another five of the battle armor equipped enemy who had managed to exit the transport. No one else had attempted to make it out of the transport since Davis-Moore had taken out the man in the airlock. This situation was about to change, however, as all three gun teams were in the process of moving and therefore would not be firing any shots for several minutes. An armor-clad enemy pulled his deceased companion back into the ship and waved a chunk of debris across the darkness of the open airlock door. When that didn't draw any fire, he signaled to his companions that it was safe to begin exiting the ship again.

  Chapter 60.

  UTFN Reclamation Center, December 16, 2598.

  On board mining ship Donegal.

  As the Perseus began to swing around to make another pass at the parked Istanbul, the ship crossed the path of the Donegal’s 10,000 gigajoule mining laser. Captain Seamus O’Connell watched as the destroyer came into a position that placed it broadside to his ship. As the smaller ship continued its forward progress, the front turret was struck by a pulse beam blast from the remaining cruiser turret being powered by the Istanbul. The destroyer's shields flared to a painful intensity. Captain O'Connell chose that moment to trigger the powerful mining laser of the Donegal, targeting the same area. A column of coruscating blue incandescence, brighter than the nearby star Naccobus, lit up the entire Scrapyard for the space of several long seconds. The ravening beam from the mining ship’s laser, designed to bore through solid rock, lashed out and struck the front turret of the destroyer. The reaction was nothing at all like a normal pulse beam strike, the mining laser didn’t impact the enemy ship and cause her shields to flare up. Instead, the steady wash of the huge laser quickly ran the shield up through the colors of the spectrum from deep purple to searing white before the shield failed and the beam simply dissolved the material in its inexorable path. Jets of debris and atmosphere geysered outward from both sides of the turret as the beam bored clean through the armor on either side of the emplacement. When O'Connell switched the laser off, the armor on the enemy warship’s front turret was penetrated through and through by a perfectly circular hole -- an opening about a meter in diameter with neat, precise borders -- that silenced the front battery.

  The smaller ship immediately lost power and began to drift, out of control. Captain O’Connell and his entire crew shouted out in jubilation. One of the most effective of the opposition ships had just been neutralized!

  ***

  On board renegade destroyer Perseus.

  The gun crew of in the rear turret of the Perseus realized that this was the opportunity they had been waiting for to retake their stolen ship. While the traitorous officers on the bridge were busy trying to figure out what had happened and how to restore some of the ship's functions, her crew staged a revolt. Within about five minutes, the traitors had been subdued or killed and the ship was back in hands that were friendly to Ambassador Saladin. A message went out from the bridge of the Perseus. "This is Kalil Mohammad Khan, acting Captain of the Perseus. We surrender! Cease fire! I repeat, the Perseus surrenders!"

  ***

  On board mining ship Donegal.

  Seamus O’Connell waited for the capacitors that powered the huge mining laser to recharge but immediately began to search for another target. He hoped that their little stunt hadn’t called too much attention to the threat posed by the mining ships, previously believed to be part of the scrap cloud. He was pretty sure that the ship could sustain a strike from any of the enemy�
�s beam weapons, as long as the impact was to the heavily shielded front of the ship. If they were to be attacked from any direction but full on frontal, however, they might be in trouble. On the other hand, much of the ship was made up of empty holds, intended to store metals and ores, so the enemy would have to know exactly where to aim to hit something vital.

  Chapter 61.

  UTFN Reclamation Center, December 16, 2598.

  Onboard the wreck of the UTFN Lexington, somewhere in the scrap cloud.

  "That enemy soldier reentered the wreck in the same spot where you just did, Vixen," sent Faiza.

  Carlisle, in hiding behind the marginal protection of the hatch door, replied: "Thanks, Pointer, I think I'm ready, let me know if the Skorpios starts to move again."

  "Will do."

  Within a minute, Carlisle could see the soft glow of someone's suit lights in the corridor outside. She braced herself behind the hatch door. Ten seconds later, the muzzle of the enemy's pulse rifle poked partway into the chamber. Carlisle grabbed the muzzle of the gun with her left hand and slammed it into the rim of the hatch opening while swinging the heavy hatch door towards the closed position with her right. The massive hatch door crunched into the front portion of the pulse rifle just behind the terminal end where Carlisle had grabbed it, flattening it to about half its original diameter. There was a small explosion of debris from the damage dealt by the door. Without allowing any time for her enemy to react, Carlisle swung the hatch back open and jerked as hard as she could on the damaged weapon. Her adversary was gripping the weapon so tightly that she was drawn into the capacitor chamber, still holding on to the now useless gun!

  It was the first time that either of them had gotten any kind of a look at their adversary and both were somewhat surprised to find that their opponent was also a woman. Carlisle could just make out a pair of intense ebony eyes through the face plate of the reconnaissance suit. This has to be the woman that Hanna warned us about. She thought. Fahada, her name was Fahada and Hanna said she was extremely dangerous!

  Fahada immediately demonstrated the validity of Hanna's warning by being the first to recover and the first to act. She released the now useless pulse rifle and swept her arm down, reaching for the pulse pistol clipped to her suit's utility belt; the very same pulse pistol that Carlisle had lost a few minutes earlier. Reacting just in time to the movement, Carlisle managed to grab Fahada's wrist before she could bring the deadly weapon to bear and the two of them struggled for control of the pistol. A pulse from the pistol momentarily lit up the space and scarred the paint on the ceiling of the capacitor chamber without harming either of the combatants. Another harmless shot followed, hitting the floor of the compartment.

  In this direct physical confrontation, the altercation turned out to be somewhat of a mismatch. Fahada was a little taller than Carlisle but she soon discovered that she wasn't nearly as strong as the powerfully built, Spacer-conditioned Federation warrior. Not only that, but Carlisle's prototype command suit was much more flexible and provided far more agility than the thruster-equipped reconnaissance equipment that Fahada was wearing. After a short struggle, Carlisle slammed Fahada's wrist into the edge of the hatch door and the pistol spun free from her grasp.

  With Carlisle momentarily off balance after disarming her foe, Fahada brought her cocked left leg up between them, put her foot in the middle of Carlisle's chest and shoved with all her might. Carlisle's lost her grip on her adversary and floated lazily out into the chamber before making hard contact with the front wall and ceiling of the chamber.

  At that moment, Fahada got a message from the Skorpios.

  "Fahada? You must get off that wreck immediately! Something totally unexpected has happened, the Perseus has surrendered! We are retreating! The Arabian Star will pick you up on the way out!"

  Fahada looked at her enemy, who was just then regaining control of her body and keyed her suit radio to a general communications band.

  "This isn't over," she hissed, "Next time, you die!"

  Fahada quickly slipped out of the chamber through the hatch, pulled the door closed and, to delay any possible pursuit, gave the wheel a spin. She then headed back down the corridor towards the same damaged area where she had entered the ship. She threaded her way out of the old ship and awaited pickup by the Arabian Star, one of the ships that had been carrying boarders.

  Harris, huddled down in the superstructure of the wrecked ship, watched as an enemy freighter came within ten meters of the wreck he was on and a figure from his ship used a thruster belt to perfectly target the open airlock of the freighter. The airlock doors slid shut. The cargo ship hadn't even slowed down!

  Meanwhile, back in the capacitor chamber, Carlisle had shaken off the effects of her impact with the wall and shoved down from the ceiling of the capacitor compartment to recover her pulse pistol. She briefly considered giving chase but almost immediately decided that her original mission was more important. The Greyhound was depending on her!

  "Vixen? This is unbelievable! sent a breathless Amanda over the wristcomp network. "The Perseus has just surrendered!"

  "What? How?" replied Carlisle.

  "The guys on the Donegal hit the ship with their mining laser and totally destroyed the front turret! That old destroyer is your main target now!"

  "Returning to the aft turret now," replied Carlisle, as she pulled her weightless body up the ladder to the projector compartment. She went immediately to the gunner's chair, strapped herself in and began searching for her target.

  ***

  TFN Reclamation Center, somewhere in the scrap cloud.

  The Skorpios, with her shields mostly recovered and her power plant stabilized, prepared to leave the Scrapyard. She was to depart last and provide cover for the retreating troop transports. The Captain and crew pulled out of their temporarily sheltered spot and began to turn the ship end for end to head back out of the Scrapyard on the same route they had come in on as quickly as they could. The maneuver brought her right into the line of fire of the aft turret of the Lexington.

  Carlisle drew a bead on the bridge and pressed the firing stud. As before, the blast didn't damage the old ship but her shields flared back up to near incandescence. As Carlisle switched her attention to the other projector and started lining up the shot, both of Skorpios' turrets began to swing in the direction of the emplacement that Carlisle's was in.

  "Easy, Tamara," she spoke to herself again, "just line it up and take the shot."

  ***

  UTFN Auxiliary Ship Greyhound.

  Meanwhile Kresge gave the order to implement his plan.

  "We will be engaging that enemy ship within the next two minutes," he announced over the ship's intercom. "Gun crew? A slight change in plan. I want both projectors set to fire pulses with all four of the capacitor modules engaged. Repeat, I want maximum-power pulses from each gun on my order. Caleb? That leaves us with only two pulses before we will have to recharge, so don't take any shot that you aren't absolutely sure is going to be a hit!"

  ***

  UTFN Reclamation Center, somewhere in the scrap cloud.

  Carlisle drew a bead on the front turret of the Skorpios but she could see from how quickly the enemy's turrets were revolving that she would be cutting things really close. She clenched her teeth and finalized her aim, pressed the firing stud and immediately made a beeline towards the central hatch leading downward. She took a couple of extra seconds to pull the hatch closed and give the locking wheel a spin, an action that may have saved her life. As she reached the hatch in the aft wall of the capacitor compartment that led out into the main corridor she felt a horrendous impact. The last thing she saw was the ceiling of the compartment opening to space as the turret above was totally destroyed. Carlisle felt herself slam into something and she lost consciousness.

  ***

  UTFN Auxiliary Ship Greyhound.

  Kresge and the Greyhound came upon the scene just as Carlisle fired her second beam and they saw the flare of the destr
oyer's badly overloaded shield. He and the rest of the bridge crew then watched in horror as the destroyer fired her aft battery and the turret on the Lexington went up in cloud of debris a few seconds later. Because Carlisle had been drawing their fire, the Greyhound came upon a Skorpios that had both main battery turrets pointed almost directly away from the old cargo ship. Not only that, her shields were blazing nearly white from the strain of absorbing and dissipating the energy from two high-powered pulse bolts.

  "Target the bridge, Caleb!" said Kresge. "All four capacitors channeled to the Port side projector. Starboard side prepared to fire if needed. Fire when you have a solution!"

  The Skorpios was still desperately trying to bring her guns to bear on the new threat when the full-intensity bolt from the port side projector of the Greyhound flashed into her bridge.

  The shields of the Skorpios flared to an impossible color before a white flash and a cloud of debris erupted from the center of the ship. Sections of bow and stern cartwheeled lazily outward from the site of the explosion. The stern section impacted with one of the wrecks in its path, knocking the wreck so that it began rotating downward while the stern section careened off in a new direction. The bow section somehow grazed past several wrecks and wound up spinning lazily outward towards deep space.

  Harris, who had been shielded by the bulk of the wreck during the whole encounter, lifted away from the Lexington on his two man sled. After a short search he spotted a small, white space-suited figure spinning limply among the debris created from the destruction of the aft turret of the Lexington. With a lump in his throat, he went to retrieve the Ensign. He feared the worst, she was not answering calls to radio or to the girls on the cranial network. To his relief, her suit appeared to be intact, at least she hadn't suffered from decompression or loss of oxygen. He prayed that she was only knocked unconscious.