by Kal Spriggs
"Fall back!" Dawn barked.
She and Alpha Team hurried down the central ramp, racing for the platform, reloading as they went. They'd just passed Bravo Team when they opened up on the entrance to the corridor. Dawn toggled her heads up display to show dark forms spilling out the corridor to be mown down by Lance Corporal Sutton and his MG-555.
The problem was, even firing in bursts, he only carried so much ammunition.
She and Alpha Team crested the platform where Second Squad had set up, weapons ready to cover Bravo Team's withdrawal.
"Black on ammo!" Lance Corporal Sutton shouted.
"Prepare to withdraw," Dawn said, "fall back to the next set of doors, move!"
Second squad opened up on the enemies even as Dawn continued to rush back to the next set of doors. They could do this. As long as the enemy didn't get a foothold...
Something screamed through the air and detonated in the ranks of Second Squad and then everything went to hell.
***
They'd gone a hundred meters down the corridor, the sound of gunfire loud behind them, when Rory and Feliks both stopped to stare down one of the side corridors. "Fascinating," Rory said.
"Yes, amazing, truly amazing," Feliks nodded.
"We don't have time for this," Alannis turned back. "Marines are dying behind us to buy us time!"
"But..." Rory stared at her, "you don't understand, look." He gave a wave down the side corridor.
Alannis glanced that way. She blinked in surprise as she saw a line of crystaline pods, each of them four meters across or more, in a row that ran out of sight. Inside the nearest ones she could make out the forms of Ghornath, still and unmoving. She shivered, "What is it, some kind of burial?" More gunfire sounded behind them and then what sounded like an explosion. Shouts on her net told her they didn't have much time.
She pushed the two scientists ahead of her as they spoke, "Oh, no," Feliks said, "they must be some kind of stasis pods, that's what the recording said, after all, about leading their people."
Alannis froze in her tracks. "Wait, you mean there are thousands of Ghornath on this station?"
"Oh, no," Rory waved a hand. "That's silly. No there's got to be a few million at least. I mean, we've passed eight corridors so far, which look to run concentric rings around the station, each with tens of thousands of them inside. Just some rough calculations tells me... what, six million, you think Feliks?"
"At least," Feliks said, even as the gunfire got louder behind them. Chuni was well ahead of them. "And who knows how many more on the planets?"
"Wait, planets?" Alannis shoved them ahead of her as a bullet buzzed through the air past her helmet like a malignant wasp. She listened with an absent ear as the remnants of second squad fell back while first squad opened fire again.
"Oh, yes," Feliks said, "there voice mentioned entire cities. I would estimate that only the warrior caste of the Ghornath went into exile, the others were put into stasis or cryosleep to await their leaders return."
"Chuni, are you hearing this?" Alannis panted.
"Yes," she said. "More importantly, if those enemies behind us gain access to the throne, they will be able to lower the defenses, to kill billions while they sleep."
Oh, no, Alannis thought.
"Staff Sergeant Grable is down," someone shouted over the net.
"Crap," Alannis said. She shoved the two scientists forward and then turned.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Rory said, pausing.
"I'm going to buy you all as much time as I can," Alannis said. "Get up there, help Chuni to unlock this thing's defenses... or all of us are dead." As both scientists stood there, frozen, their faces hidden behind their helmets, Alannis wondered if the danger really registered to them. "Go!" Alannis shouted.
They ran. She jogged back to where the remnants of Second Squad had begun to form up, sheltered behind some machinery. "Status?" Alannis panted as she checked her weapon.
"Twenty percent ammunition," Corporal Wandry said. "Black on our heavies, everything but the plasma rifles, we haven't used those."
"Break them out," Alannis said. She wasn't too worried about damaging the station and the stasis pods were all sheltered down the side corridors. "Wounded?"
"I've got the wounded, ma'am," Gunny Tam said as he and two others from First Squad hurried in, dragging several wounded by their harnesses. "Three Marines down," he said, "One of them hit Staff Sergeant Grable with some kind of homing missile."
Shit, Alannis thought. "This is probably our best location to make a stand," she said. The alien machinery projected into the corridor, forming a natural choke point and providing cover from enemy fire.
She looked back towards where Rory and Feliks were running. They'd just exited the corridor, nearly five hundred meters away. Chuni was out of sight.
"First Squad, fall back to our position," Alannis said, "Use whatever heavy weapons you need to break contact."
"Roger, ma'am," Staff Sergeant Witzke said, her voice level despite the roar of gunfire. "First squad, grenades on my mark!" There was a slight lull in gunfire. "Now!"
The chain of explosions drove a billow of hot air down the corridor and gunfire stopped for a long moment.
First Squad began to stream past a moment later, several of them limping and a few dragging limp and wounded Marines behind them.
Alannis saw one of the limp Marines had a slung plasma carbine and she unstrapped it and checked it. The power pack showed a full charge and the indicators all glowed green.
She moved into position next to Gunny Tam. "Let's buy them some time."
***
Chapter XXI
The Throne of Kopal Pesh
The Sacred Stars
January 4, 2409
Things were going well, Hunter decided. The Enforcement station's defenses had engaged his scout ships, but the surviving crew from both ships should still be enough to overwhelm the defending humans. And if they did gain control over the system, then Hunter could eradicate the slave-race's home systems in a matter of days. That would erase the threat forever and it would save him the time of hunting down every refugee colony.
The overwhelming missile salvo had not yet materialized. In fact, thus far his force had managed the staggered arrivals of missiles with no issues at all. Soon the human ship would be in range and he could eradicate it. Everything was falling into place.
Kill the last of the humans, he sent to the scout crews, whichever one of you succeeds will be selected for evolution. He would need replacements for the deceased scout ship commanders anyway.
***
"What have you got?" Daniel asked as Forrest came over from his station.
"I've got a plan, sir," Forrest said.
"A plan?" Daniel asked.
"Yes, sir," Forrest said. "And we can check to see if it may work before we do it." Daniel nodded and Forrest tapped on his suit's control pad, which a moment later brought up a display. "Sir, we already know there's a long delay between these ships firing and being able to fire again. I've timed it and it ranges from forty-five to sixty seconds."
Daniel nodded. "Go on." The enemy ships continued to overtake them and in another ten minutes, they'd be in the Constellation's energy weapons range and in their weapons range not long after that.
"That's not a problem for them because they stagger their fire, even when these salvoes come in on the heels of each other, there isn't enough missiles to overwhelm them," Forrest said. "But what if we send enough to do that?"
"What are you saying?" Daniel asked.
"Those ships, all of them, can fire their main weapons or their defensive weapons. They can't do both at once since it's all coming from the same firing chamber, right? So what if we give them something to shoot at and follow that up with the Moljnirs?"
"You mean us," Commander Bowder grumbled. "You want them to shoot at us."
"Yes!" Forrest said. "And the Moljnirs can cover twelve thousand kilometers in forty-five seconds. We could
launch twelve of them before they're ready to fire... if we go to rapid fire mode."
"All those ships firing at once will shred us before we can get off a shot," Commander Bowder shook his head. "We've already seen what happens, their weapons blast through our defense screens like they're not even there!"
"I know that, sir," Forrest said, "But we time it. We time our intercept for right when one of the defense salvos go in. They'll be able to fire some of their weapons at us... but not all."
"How do you propose to test this?" Daniel asked.
"We stagger launch all of our standard missiles, time their acceleration to match one of the larger defensive salvos, all but a handful of trailers. Those we set to go in right on the heels. We can double the weight of the biggest salvo if we time it right, almost a hundred missiles, all going in at the same time, followed by four of ours that hang back out of range until their fire is spent."
"That could work," Daniel nodded slowly. "But that'll expend all of our Mark V’s."
Forrest nodded, "And then we can't do that when we go in for our attack run."
"But we could fire some of our Moljnirs right before we close, they don't have incredible range, but they've got enough for that purpose," Commander Bowder muttered. When Daniel and Forrest looked at him in surprise he gave a shrug, "What, I can't say I like the idea, but I don't have any better ideas."
Daniel nodded, "You've picked salvos?"
"Yes, sir," Forrest said, highlighting two. "Both from the biggest weapons platform. One goes in in two minutes, the other in eight."
Daniel did the math quickly. If they turned back and accelerated towards the enemy, reversing their course right after the salvo, they could be in position for that attack run. "Let's try it," Daniel said. His gaze went to navigation, "Lieutenant Forsberg, plot an attack run coordinated with Lieutenant Perkins' data, if you please."
The Constellation's missile tubes began to fire and Daniel watched with a critical eye as Forrest timed the launches and accelerations to match the other salvo.
It might work, he thought. He saw right away that the priority targets for those missiles were the central destroyers, one of which might be the enemy command ship. Going for those made all sorts of tactical sense even if that weren't the case. Those four destroyers probably carried more weapons and better sensors, taking them out would hurt the enemy force more than killing any of the enemy corvettes or frigates.
But there was also a visceral fascination that Daniel felt watching the missile flight form up. Since they had no way to coordinate with the defense system's fire, Forrest's missiles kept their distance, coming in at a separate angle, though in parallel with the enemy salvo.
The actual engagement lasted only seconds, the combined missile salvos closing the last distance even as the enemy force fired desperately to stop them. Pinpricks of light heralded the deaths of almost a hundred missiles in the blink of an eye.
And then, plunging into the ionized gas remnants of their brothers and distant cousins, the four missiles Forrest had held back dove at the enemy formation.
The enemy saw them coming. The ships went into evasive maneuvers, but Daniel saw no intercept fire as they screamed in the final distance. The antimatter detonations seemed almost anticlimactic at that point. Tiny pinprick flashes and radar disruption that faded. "Hit, multiple hits!" Forrest crowed, "Woohooo!"
"What did we get?" Daniel asked.
Lieutenant Cassat replied more soberly, "Two destroyers and a frigate, sir. One clean miss, they picked it off when it tried to come around on a second attack."
Daniel sat back in his command chair. He didn't look over at the XO. This was his decision. The attack had worked. Three of the four missiles had made it through... what could twelve missiles backed by the Constellation's direct fire accomplish?
Yet the death of ninety-eight missiles suggested it would not be an easy fight. He'd have to take that hit, to deliberately allow the enemy to fire, in order to get that chance. This was his decision. He was Captain, he had to make the call.
"Lieutenant Forsberg," Captain Daniel Beeson said, "Initiate the attack run."
***
Chuni had entered the Throne Room with a sense of awe. The massive, spherical chamber could have housed a starship, yet the only contents was the bridge she stood upon, which led out to a suspended platform.
She started out on the bridge, a thin, narrow expanse that she was half-afraid would collapse under the combined weight of herself and her powered armor. Yet it remained as sturdy and solid under her feet as armored battle-steel.
Chuni discarded all hesitation as she heard a series of explosions behind her. These enemies, whoever they were, were killing her allies and friends. Honor bound her to finish this. She would not --she could not-- fail.
She raced along the narrow bridge, heedless of the drop to either side. As she drew near the platform, she could see that it held only one object, an odd, step-sided platform, only just big enough for a Ghornath to stand upon. Was this the Throne?
As she crossed the last of the distance, she came to a stop. What did she do? Chuni pulled out her ring, but there eas no flare of light. Tentatively, she stepped onto the platform. It had a finely wrought mesh of symbols, she saw, similar to the ones on her ring. With her upper limbs she touched those symbols, but there was no response. On the net, she heard shouts and her powered armor's sensors reported the discharge of plasma weapons down the corridor. The fight was growing desperate.
"Why won't you work?!" Chuni shouted and stomped on the platform. There was no response.
Rory and Feliks had arrived at this point, both of them panting. "That..." Rory gasped, "that bridge is not... structurally sound. No safety railing... definite no-no."
"Make this akaru thing work!" Chuni roared.
Rory stumbled back from her and then actually teetered on the edge. Feliks just blinked at her and fiddled with his datapad.
"Did you try turning it off and then on again?" Feliks asked.
Chuni let out an enraged roar and smashed all four of her fists down on the inside curve of the platform. The impact should have shattered the metal, but there was only a dull thud.
"Hold on!" Rory said, "Don't break it, our lives are on the line here too. Let me just take a look okay!?"
"Fine!" Chuni threw him the ring and straightened up to her full height. "But I swear to you, as Hycar, daughter of Hymat, last of the House of Annar, if you do not make this work, I will end you myself!"
As she said that, she felt an odd sensation wash over her. Her displays on her power armor flickered and died. Before she could shout in surprise, a coldness washed over her. Alien thoughts and sensations poured through her.
A wall of darkness welled up from underneath her, a foreign, oily, chilling thing that seemed to pour into her suit
She let out a scream as it rose up her chest and over her shoulders and up her neck. Her scream choked off as it poured into her open mouth.
***
Hunter felt something he had not felt in a very long time: fear.
The human missiles had come closer to victory than they could even imagine. With how tightly he controlled his ships, his captains lacked the autonomy to make decisions on their own and their understanding of the situation was problematic at best.
The four missiles they had slipped in behind the others had targeted his four most powerful ships... and he'd only barely been able to interpose a frigate between his vessel and the enemy missiles.
Yet their gamble had not fully succeed. He survived and now he had moved his ship firmly to the rear of the formation. Any further missile strikes would have to penetrate not just his ship's defensive fire but also the length of his formation.
And it seemed the humans realized that they were done. They'd reversed acceleration, which meant the human ship came at his force at increasing speeds. He could see the logic behind it. They'd timed their intercept to match the timing of a missile salvo from the caretaker defense station
s.
It wouldn't save them, though. While he might not have the firepower to destroy the ship as the salvo came in, he could certainly finish them up with the follow-on shots. Even with the slow time to fire, he would be able to engage them before they cleared his range.
With their shields energy profiles adjusted to the human and slave-race exotic particle weapons, it would take many hits to even damage a corvette, much less his larger ships. He might lose one or two vessels, but the humans would not survive the engagement.
Hunter felt more worry for the wear on his ship's firing chambers than anything the humans could do. The plutonium cores were not designed for sustained firing, nor were the interiors of the firing chambers. Most of their engagements lasted two or three shots at most. The constant bombardment of missiles meant that all of his ships had fired dozens of times.
Worse, they'd engaged the slave-race's fleet multiple times and already stressed them.
Some of those firing chambers had reached dangerous levels and had to be shut down. On others the plutonium cores had become too depleted to generate a proper beam.
If his scout crews were unable to seize control of the Enforcer platform and shut down the caretaker defenses, then he might lose several of his ships withdrawing from their fire, simply because they'd have to push their weapons past safety limits to continue to fire them.
As the humans volleyed off the last of their missiles he saw their intent. They would hope to swamp his defenses and get some hits in with their own energy weapons before he killed them. They might save one or two of their anti-ship missiles to fire after he'd fired his interceptor fire on the main salvo, but their big anti-ship missiles were too slow to reach his formation before he could fire again and their smaller interceptor missiles would be too light to do significant damage. His best course of action was clear, then.
All ships, he sent out, tighten formation and prepare to engage the enemy.
***
Ensign Medica had spent the past few days studying the data that Feliks and Rory had dumped off on him. At first he had felt utter dejection. The two scientists had followed through on their statement and they'd visited and checked on his progress three times a day.