Defenders

by TR Cameron

  When the familiar shimmering glow washed through, Cross was less surprised than resigned. “Of course. Reinforcements.”

  Chapter Four

  Indraat Vray’s ship had caught the gravitic wave a day and a half before and was nearing the end of its time in the raging current of near-space. The Ruby Rain and the seven vessels that rounded out Indraat’s squadron had used the transit time to prepare strategies and tactics for the upcoming conquest. These ships formed the nucleus of her entire force, and each needed to lead by example.

  Given the circumstances of her ascension to command of the invasion starships, Indraat didn’t fear insubordination by her commanders. None of them wanted to meet her within the lines of eight anytime soon. Each had been in attendance during the battle, and each surely carried in their memories the undignified demise of the last captain to challenge her.

  This was part of the strategy to which she and Kraada Tak had committed their futures. Fearing her was the first step toward respecting her, and in the meantime the captains were required to follow her because of her official position. Later, they would follow because they believed in her. That pivotal toss of the knife was the catalyst. Only Kraada knew she could have easily killed Traan Aras with nothing but her bare hands at any moment during the fight. Those skills would stay secret until they were necessary, and then her opponent would find her far more dangerous than expected.

  “Reversion imminent, Captain.” Her helm officer, First Creena Shan, had an attractive voice with a face and body to match. If she’d been willing to seek partners among her crew, the woman would be one of the first she sought. Such a thing was prohibited, at least while on assignment.

  “Thank you, Shan.” Indraat, who’d been walking a circle of the bridge to check each duty station, moved back to the center chair and sat. At the touch of a button, the cushions molded to her body to hold her in place during the expected violence to come. Her religious officer, Deacon Raanja Kaer, looked decidedly nervous. Just days before, he was one of the attendants in Kraada’s cathedral. His first time on board a ship was proving to be a physical and mental shock. She glared at him, then briefly lifted her chin. His spine straightened. She bestowed a small approving nod upon him, as he remembered that the crew was always judging.

  Turning to the curved display that dominated the front part of the bridge, Indraat watched as the strategic overview of the sector they were about to enter drew itself. It was difficult, but not impossible, for a ship to catch signals from normal space. The Sapphire Sky broadcasted its signal far and wide. She was glad the center was clear for their arrival. In the past, fortress commanders had on occasion been overconfident in their ability to coordinate the actions of incoming ships. Collisions and death were inevitably the result.

  Perhaps her reputation had preceded her, she thought with a small laugh. If she knew her uncle, that commander might fear the outcome if he did any less than his best in her presence. She hoped so.

  The roaring sound that accompanied ejection from the wave filled her ears. For most commanders, it was an energizing call to battle. For Indraat, it’d always been a calming force, rooting her mind and her spirit in the present, allowing everything not of that moment to vanish. The colors washed away to reveal the forces of humanity waiting for them.

  “All ships are out of the wave, Captain,” reported the tactical officer.

  “Very good, Tareel. Populate the display, please.” At her order, Second Tareel Yast, triggered the command set to connect the computer on the Ruby Rain with the one on the floating fortress. Icons and designations filled the screen, followed by ship names. Indraat waited expectantly and was rewarded. “They’re here,” she enthused. “Mark the Washington, DC as our primary target. Perhaps today is the day we will destroy the trespassers.”

  She took in the overall picture, then grinned, her teeth bared. She hit the button on the edge of her chair to select the squadron communication channel. “Split into four. One and two, guard the rip until our ships return. Three, find and attack the biggest enemy vessel. I’m on the defilers.” The ship paired with her was tasked to follow her lead. They organized within moments and shot away at high speeds toward their targets.

  She opened a directional communication channel locked on to her target. The signal was accepted, and seconds later the sandy-headed junior officer appeared. “Where is your captain, underling? Has he been slain, leaving you in command? If so, I must find and commend the ship that accomplished this.”

  The man on the screen grimaced as her insult hit home. “Captain Okoye is no longer in charge of the Washington. He’s doing just fine, and I’ll be happy to tell him you asked after him. Where is your squadron leader? I remember seeing him run away from the last battle we shared.”

  Indraat gave a small nod of her head in acknowledgment of the touch. “He has been demoted. Permanently. I cannot make him aware you inquired, but I’m sure that wherever he is, he appreciates the gesture. I thought it only proper for us to speak before I destroy your ship. As you die, I want you to know we will not stop until your whole species is eradicated. What your ship started, we will finish. Completely. I am Captain Indraat Vray, and this I promise.” As the man opened his mouth to reply, she cut the channel.

  A quiet laugh or two broke the stillness on the bridge. Indraat didn’t let herself join in, even though she found the man’s discomfiture amusing.

  “Engines to full. Take a direct line to the Washington. Opal Snow to come in on a shallow curve from starboard and above. Launch missiles as early as possible. Follow up with energy cannons. When we’re close enough, employ the gravity beams. Execute.” The ship’s increased velocity pressed her into her chair. Unlike many captains who maintained an environment protected from feeling maneuvers, Indraat preferred to use all of her senses to assess what the Ruby Rain was doing. She believed it made her a more effective combatant. No opponent had yet lived to dispute her.

  “The target is running, Captain, attempting to rejoin the main battle group.”

  “Unacceptable. Opal Snow, adjust course to intercept and deflect the Washington back toward us.” She received an affirmative message from the captain on her wing, and the battle plot updated trajectories. A gentle harmonic echoed throughout the ship as the missiles slid from their tubes, and a countdown to impact glowed on a secondary display.

  “Antimissile defenses deployed,” said her weapons officer.

  The projectiles from the Washington appeared as tiny dots closing in on the larger icons for the Ruby Rain’s missiles. Her ship carried new surprises for the humans like the upgraded torpedoes on the way to her enemy. They drew upon an internal capacitor and produced a miniature gravity beam with just enough power to deflect defensive countermeasures. To her delight, the missiles passed through the first line of defense. She tapped her long, sharp nails on the arm of the chair in quiet enthusiasm.

  Finally, they reached range, and energy beams lanced out from her ship to splash against the Washington’s shields. Indraat had no confidence they would actually penetrate. If they got lucky, so much the better, but the primary purpose was to deplete the defenses. She watched the countdown, and with an instinctive grasp of the trajectories and geometry, gave the order to fire the gravity weapon.

  A smaller version of the weapon used by the Sapphire Sky, the gravity beam generated an alternating push/pull that affected all matter. The enemy’s shields weren’t attuned to the proper frequencies to stop it, though the energy barrier did cost the beam some of its force. With the reduced power weapon on her ship, she couldn’t manage the catastrophic destruction that the fortress could. When she locked onto the Washington, though, it became simply a question of keeping it on target. If she timed it right, the results would be highly satisfying.

  “Washington real-time on-screen,” she commanded, and the display split to show her close-up views of her enemy from her own ship and the other in her pair. The gravity beam itself was invisible, operating in a higher portion of the el
ectromagnetic spectrum than even the Xroeshyn could perceive. Over time, one learned to look for its effects. Indraat could see individual armor plates vibrating and peeling away from the hull. Regrettably, the beams weren’t focused enough to direct against more specific targets, such as the Washington’s shield generators. The aft shields flickered and died seconds before her missiles arrived.

  The Washington silenced her triumphant growl before it could escape her throat, slewing wildly to bring her undamaged starboard shields in line with the torpedoes. Impacts rocked the ship, but the defenses held. Several of her bridge crew cursed at the luck of the humans, but Indraat understood it was the skill of a formidable opponent, not random chance, that permitted the ship’s survival. As she watched the Washington correct her frantic tumble, a lick of fire jetted out from one of her engines. The flame and the engine it came from sputtered and died together.

  “It’s damaged,” Indraat crowed. “Fire at will. Finish it.”

  The Washington turned and raced directly for the Ruby Rain. Her tactical officer spoke, “Captain, battle computer suggests that there is at least a fifty percent chance that this is a sacrifice strategy to take out our leadership.”

  Indraat scoffed, but acknowledged her responsibility for the entire invasion, rather than just her squadron of ships. She cursed colorfully, then gave the commands duty required. “Fighting retreat to the cover of the fortress, under no circumstance let the Washington close enough to explode on us. If necessary, turn around and flee. The war is more important than this one ship.” Her crew hustled to follow her orders.

  A flicker in the corner of the sector heralded a new arrival, and the two teardrop ships shot out of the wormhole at high speed. They transmitted data to the Xroeshyn forces as they entered. Even in retreat, the information inspired a huge smile on Indraat’s face. After several minutes of coordination, during which individual battles continued and vessels on both sides were destroyed, the data was analyzed and integrated. New orders were given, and a countdown clock descended on the displays of six out of every eight Xroeshyn main displays.

  At zero, the gravity drives on the chosen vessels fired, locking on to a gravitic current present in the sector and letting it pull them into near-space. Those left would see only a blur of color as the ships vanished. On her bridge, it was a glorious display of colors, some so high up the scale they hurt her eyes.

  Indraat leaned back in her chair. “We will be in transit for a short while,” she said. “Rotate replacement crews and refresh yourselves. Return to your stations before reversion.” In the corner, another clock counted down, and she looked forward to shocking the enemy with their arrival in an entirely unexpected location.

  Chapter Five

  Kate was shocked when the Xroeshyn, especially the Ruby Rain, disengaged and disappeared. She could see that Cross looked equally baffled and had turned toward her for an analysis. Not having one was a definite problem.

  “Okay, let’s think this through for second. They had us. We’re damaged. They held the superior position, and probably would’ve beaten us with support from the Goliath.”

  “And yet, they left,” Cross supplied.

  “And yet, they left,” Kate echoed, the muscles in her face contracting enough to hurt. “So, they must’ve had something more valuable to get to. Something tied to the reappearance of those two ships from the wormhole.”

  The helm officer, Zachary Lee, offered the logical solution, “They could’ve been trackers. If they were, then instead of continuing to explore our space sector by sector, they might have just gained the information they need to jump to another location.”

  “To where?”

  Kate imagined that the negation in Cross’s voice was less a matter of not believing as not wanting to believe. “To where we came from,” she said. “To the starbase.”

  Kate watched as Cross shared this idea with Captain Aguayo of the Caracas. That ship was stranded in the sector while the crew made repairs. A screen of UAL ships defended her, but the enemy appeared content to protect the Goliath and not engage.

  Cross nodded at something received over the battle net and released his protective belts to stand tall. “XO, you’re with me. Jacobs, you have the deck.” Cross pointed to the captain’s ready room, off of the bridge.

  “Aye, I have the deck.” Jacobs didn’t leave his station, but called up alternate control boards. The protocol was different when the commander was only steps away.

  Kate stood and escaped her own restraints, following Cross into the ready room. By the time they sat at the table, Lieutenant Fitzpatrick had connected them to a discussion including the captains of the ships remaining in the sector. Each appeared in their own rectangle on the room’s display with their ship’s name hovering above them.

  “Several of us have come to the same conclusion,” Captain Isaac Roth said. “The aliens are headed for the starbase we just left. Somehow, they tracked us back.”

  “That’s impossible” said the executive officer of one of the other ships in a strained voice.

  “No,” Kate replied, “it’s just one more thing we haven’t encountered. There’s no way to tell what’s possible with these beings. We can’t afford any assumptions.”

  Captain Aguayo nodded in agreement. “All ships that can leave the zone, make your best speed back to the starbase. If we’re lucky, the speed of the wormhole transit plus the tunnel jump after will be better than their technology, and you’ll arrive before them. The rest of us will follow as soon as repairs permit. Fortunately, the enemy here is focused on defense at the moment.”

  There was more chatter among the captains as they refined their strategies and made contingency plans, but it became background noise to Kate’s wandering mind. The situation didn’t feel right to her. A tap on Cross’s shoulder let him know she was leaving. Kate returned to her chair on the bridge and called up her science displays. She ran through the recordings of the battle, focusing on the tracking ships, but found no answers. The replay had just begun again when something on the main display caught her eye. The defenders that had been in a more or less constant defensive rotation around the Goliath altered their trajectories ever so slightly toward the Union vessels.

  Her brain recognized the change, but it took a few extra seconds to realize that the alien ships’ relationship to the Goliath was not changing.

  “It’s moving. The Goliath is moving.” The bridge crew heard her and confirmed her observations through their own instruments. She opened a channel to Cross, but he was back before it connected.

  “Get us away from that thing. Full speed to the wormhole threshold. Wherever possible, launch or fire at the enemy ships, but focus on evasion.”

  He sat, strapping into his chair, and motioned for her to do the same.

  “We’ve got to leave them behind,” Kate said, seeing it in his face.

  “Yes.”

  “No other choice?”

  “Of course. We could stay, and protect our ships until they can escape the zone, rather than running away from them. But we have orders to hit the wormhole, in case we can make it back to the starbase in time to do some good there.” His voice made it clear he’d prefer the former option.

  “We can’t take on the Goliath, Cross. We just don’t know enough yet.”

  “I get it, Kate. It just burns me to leave these ships. I just… hate those bastards so much.”

  Kate blinked, surprised at his combination of resignation and ferocity. “There will be another day, Cross.”

  “Not for everyone, Kate.”

  Lieutenant Lee’s voice broke into their conversation, “We’re fifteen seconds from wormhole threshold. Orders, Commander?”

  “Into the wormhole, Zachary. We’ve lost this round.”

  Small protrusions on the Washington’s top, bottom, port, and starboard surfaces glowed. They reached out with finely tuned radiation to destabilize space around the wormhole entrance and permit access. Seconds later, they were in the relative
safety of the transit.

  Cross stood and left the bridge with a frustrated, “You have the deck, Kate.”

  “Aye,” she said to his retreating back.

  Kate requested Jannik’s presence, and together the two of them went over the battle frame by frame, starting with the failure of their experimental torpedoes. “They worked just like we thought,” Kate said.

  “Yes,” Jannik agreed, “but having to adjust so often slowed them down enough that they were vulnerable to the other defenses. The torpedoes need to react faster and have more speed going in. I’m not quite sure how we do that, but knowing the problem is the first step toward solving it.”

  Kate nodded in agreement. “What are your thoughts on this monstrosity?” She brought up a loop of the data collected on the Goliath, and they both viewed it in silence. Its most logical analogue was a starbase, in terms of size and apparent philosophy of design. Kate made that observation to Jannik, and he shook his head.

  “I believe you’re mistaken on that, my girl. This thing was never intended to be a permanent fixture. This is a warship, meant to support and solidify the enemy’s power in a sector. You can tell by its design—all spikes, very difficult to dock with, but excellent for defense.”

  Kate called up the computer’s best estimate of a schematic for the thing and rotated it in three dimensions.

  “These right here,” he said while pointing, “are clearly the gravity weapons. And you can see down here at the base what appears to be some sort of… I don’t know… power adjuster would be my best guess.” Jannik squinted at the display. “These other spines are probably energy weapons. Here, these are certainly some combination of missile tubes and close defense.”

  Kate rotated the display to better show the underside. “There’s a slightly wider central port down here that’s an entry and exit for smaller ships.” She frowned and moved the wireframe around again. “You know what this is missing, Jannik?”