The Dark Defiance

by A. G. Claymore

  “They’re not forming a ram.” Harry overrode Carol’s screen, bringing up a close view of one of the massive ships. “They must have a hangar inside; they’re recalling those small ships. Those little corvettes are likely used for orbital policing. They probably don’t have distortion drives.”

  “Which means they’re gonna run for it,” Carol jumped in. “Harry, if they jump through our fleets…”

  “Looks like the fleets are way ahead of you,” Wally pointed out the window.

  The ships of all three fleets were accelerating towards the Dactarii. If they could get close enough, they would be inside the initial distortion envelopes of the Dactarii jump engines. The human ships would be torn to pieces but the enemy would be destroyed along with them.

  If they wanted to withdraw, the Dactarii had only one option.

  “They’re turning.” Harry wanted to slump back in his chair, but there was still work to do. “Half the frigates are still facing our forces. Looks like they want to buy the rest of the fleet room to jump.” He selected the closest frigate in the rearguard. “Wally, bring us in on his flank. Ray, start hammering him as soon as we get close enough.”

  This time, the enemy didn’t have the luxury of turning their main armament on the Völund. Their task was to hold the humans back, buying time for an orderly withdrawal. Their secondary batteries were able to target their assailant, but they had no effect against the Völund’s shields.

  “Looks like this bad boy has better shields,” Ray advised. “I don’t think we’ll burn through.”

  “Very well, let’s move on to target number two.” We’re actually going to survive this, Harry thought with surprise. “Looks like some of the frigates have better shields than others. I wonder what’s behind that?”

  “Older ships maybe?” Wally suggested.

  “Or rushed into service without a full complement of shield generators.” Carol was gazing at the overall battle screen. They might be having production problems.” She leaned forward. “There goes another wave of bugs. I don’t think many of those rearguard ships will ever get home again.”

  “Burning through the seam on this one,” Ray sounded wistful. “Maybe we should let em go? They had to know they were looking death in the face, holding us off their main fleet like this. Damned brave, if you ask me.”

  “You wouldn’t be talking like that if you had kids down there.” Wally pointed out the window at the delicate blue sphere, just beyond the enemy ships. “You just keep firing until the barrels melt.”

  Harry activated Ray’s targeting system. He dragged a yellow reticle down to the stern of the enemy frigate. “Ray, shift all fire to their engineering sections. I want his engines destroyed but leave the ship in one piece.” We need prisoners to interrogate.

  “Enemy vanguard is beginning their jump.” Carol looked over at Harry. “I’d say less than a third of their original force is getting away.”

  “And none of their rear guard.” Harry nodded at the ships in front of them. They were turning to follow the main fleet but the mosquito sub-munitions struck, burrowing into their shields and battering them into submission.

  A voice crackled in their ears, a message in Dheema.

  “I don’t speak their language, but that sure as hell sounded like the voice of a man who just surrendered.” Harry leaned back in his chair. The weapons began to fall silent, for the most part. Harry suddenly leaned forward against his restraints. “The Midgaard! We have to stop them.” He opened a channel to the Ormen. Deirdre sat there in her small EVA suit, the visor deactivated.

  “You have to get Caul to cease firing. Tell him we need prisoners to interrogate.”

  “I’ll try, but he’s got the blood rage in his eyes.”

  “Then tell him we want to know all we can learn about the state of the Dactarii Republic before we consider invading their territory. The possibility of joining an invasion fleet should be a big enough carrot.”

  “Are we really going to invade?”

  “I don’t know, probably, but right now, we need to stop them from killing all our prisoners.”

  “Harry,” Carol cut in, “call for you from the Midway.”

  He held up a finger to hold her off, looking back down at the screen. “Just convince him; we’ve got to keep this from turning into a fight between them and our own ships. This can get out of hand fast.” He cut the link and opened the call from the Midway. A young radioman appeared on the screen. “This is Captain Harrison Young of the Red Flag trading vessel Völund.”

  The young radioman was pushed, unceremoniously, out of his chair and another took his place as if he owned it. “Harry, it is you.” Admiral Towers was grinning from ear to ear. “How soon can you get your ass over to the Midway? I’ve got a few questions about your new friends, including…” he glanced away from the monitor for a second, “why some of them are still firing on the Dactarii.”

  “Good to see you, John,” Harry answered as though he were meeting the man on an afternoon stroll. “The Midgaard are friends for the moment. Some are still firing because they have a few groups that chafe under the yoke of command and they do love a good fight.”

  “Well, get them to stop, would you? They’re going to spoil a perfectly orderly surrender. And I don’t want the shooting to spread until we’re all fighting, just on general principle.”

  “We’re working on that right now, John. I’ll drop by as soon as we deal with a potential boarding issue that’s probably about to start any minute.”

  Towers’ face had a look of mild amusement. “Sounds like you have a few stories to tell. Do you need help? A few marines, perhaps?”

  “No, we should be fine over here, but thanks.”

  The Völund

  Just outside of Earth orbit

  Jan stood with the rest of the crew, watching over the hastily-built framework that sat at the outer edge of the decking. It protruded through the shielding that held the atmosphere inside the vessel and it supported a small round device.

  If it’s going to happen, now’s the time, Jan thought as she double-checked the controls on her suit. “I suppose it’s too much to expect that their ship was destroyed during the fight?”

  The assembled team chuckled, but Jan wasn’t in a laughing mood. She would gladly destroy every Midgaard vessel except for the Ormen if it meant getting her daughter back safely.

  “Maybe we won’t need to…” Danraj stopped in mid-sentence as a portal opened, just outside the atmospheric shielding.

  A flurry of air and moisture vapor boiled out of the opening, the water crystalizing as it floated away. A small canister tumbled through.

  “Grenade,” Lothbrok said calmly. “Your atmospheric shield should protect us.”

  Sure enough, the blast painted a large, rough circle of blue on the shield, but none of the effects reached the waiting team.

  Then the attackers began coming through.

  The first to arrive looked as though he had planned to crouch near the portal and cover his teammates as they followed him through. Because there was no floor for him to crouch on and no gravity to hold him in place, he simply tumbled away from the side of the human ship as he drifted towards the main shield. The rest of the fifteen-man team poured through at a higher speed, hoping to overwhelm a surprised crew with aggressive tactics.

  They began to pile up as the first attacker, who had only walked through the portal, was struck by the second attacker, who had come through at a run. This continued until all fifteen were drifting towards the shield.

  “Okay,” Liam called them back to the task at hand. “Let’s get this portal back inside, shall we?” They released the tilt brakes on the dolly wheels and rolled the rough framework back inside the lighter bay.

  “Why would they come through if they knew they were venting atmosphere?” Terry Coleman, one of Liam’s mercenary team, had a troubled look on his face. “This doesn’t add up.”

  “They probably assumed we took some hull damage, but a
s long as the beacon was still working, there might be something here for them to destroy.” Ken Ferrick explained to his fellow mercenary. “And now that the venting has stopped, they’ll figure their team managed to seal whatever compartment was causing the problem.”

  The first of the Midgaard boarding party reached the Völund’s main shield. He was vaporized in a blue flash. His teammates became more agitated.

  “Kind of like the old bug zapper back home in Odessa,” Ken mused as one Midgaard placed his foot against the chest of his comrade and pushed himself towards the humans.

  “Considering the speed at which they came out of that portal,” Keira stated with professional certainty, “there’s very little chance he could apply enough force to move his mass back this way.”

  “Before anyone sullies their soul by placing bets,” Liam began as he walked over to the atmo shielding, “try to remember that we’re talking about someone who’s about to die.” He thumbed the safety off and slid the muzzle of his UMP through the blue haze. “One way or another.”

  It quickly became clear that the doomed raider’s last effort was ineffective. He was simply heading for the main shield more slowly than his friends. Liam pulled his weapon back inside and walked over to the portal. “Line up!” He pulled out a flash-bang as the boarding party took their assigned places, weapons alternating between left and right.

  Danraj joined Liam, preparing his own flash-bang.

  Jan was at the end of the line. Danny would follow Bernie through the portal and Jan would bring up the rear. In all, seven would board Liev’s ship before continuing through the other portal to the Ormen. Liam had his own men, Danraj, Ken and Terry, as well as Bernie, Keira and Jan.

  The stun grenades sailed through the opening and they felt the blast coming back through the portal. Immediately, Liam stepped through and disappeared. Jan shuffled forward as the team filed through the shimmering oval. Danny clapped Bernie on the back and stepped into line behind him, following him through with only inches between them.

  Her breath loud in her ears, Jan shuffled through the opening and found herself in an alien vessel for the first time. She was obviously in a cargo hold. The massive, rusty space was piled high with a wide variety of objects, most with a bit of damage on them. She felt heavier on this ship. To her right, Liam was in the process of pulling his knife out of the neck of a Midgaard’s EVA suit. Two others were being similarly dispatched by Lothbrok and Ken.

  Keira came jogging past with a small welding pack. “Main door’s sealed,” she panted. “Just got to take care of the elevator platform.”

  By now, the three enemy bodies had been dragged out of the way and the team was lining up in front of the second portal. Keira returned, setting her portable welder on the deck. “That should hold ‘em for an hour or so.”

  They poured through the second opening to find themselves on the edge of a firefight.

  The Ormen

  Just outside of Earth orbit

  The two retainers guarding the entrance hatch to the bridge fell backwards in a welter of blood. Caul shoved Deirdre behind a console and drew his sidearm. Not a blade, but good enough to gain entrance to Valhol. He shot the first man through the hatch. Hallfrid killed the next but more kept coming. The girl’s human protector opened fire with his own weapon, failing to penetrate the armor but staggering them nonetheless. The rate of fire was impressive, if somewhat ineffectual.

  Ten intruders were now on the bridge and a stalemate was developing. Covering behind workstations, intruders and defenders traded shots but the intruders had numbers on their side and they were slowly winning.

  Until the stun grenades tumbled through the door.

  The quick succession of powerful blasts overloaded Caul’s senses. His mind was only barely able to perceive the motion of the humans who poured through the hatch, weapons firing at the stunned attackers.

  Slowly, his faculties seemed to catch up with reality. They seem to have better ammunition than their comrade, he thought, realizing that the enemy assault team was now dead. The humans were moving from body to body, pulling weapons away and throwing them to the center of the bridge. Lothbrok was among them. Treat a man with honor and he will always behave accordingly. Though the man had been dirt poor, Caul had always trusted him with responsibility, and now he had helped to save his master from a very dire situation.

  Lothbrok came over, a look of relief on his face. “A good outcome, my lord. We even managed to take some of them alive.” His look of relief morphed into genuine alarm.

  That was when Caul felt the blade at his throat.

  “All of you against the wall!” A loud voice snarled at Caul’s ear.

  Looking at the reflection in the port-side bridge window, he could see a head floating behind his own. “Eirar, you skulking goat’s pizzle!” Caul dripped scorn with every word. “I bet you need a cloaked suit just to survive bedding your brides.”

  “Shut up, you pathetic fool!” Eirar raged, drawing a drop of red blood at Caul’s neck. Deirdre was shoved forward to stand next to him, another head floating above and behind her. “Get these outlanders off my ship,” Eirar demanded, bringing his features back under control.

  “Your ship, is it?” Caul grinned. “Is that what Liev offered you? To be his fleet captain?” He shook his head, very carefully. “You were never very good at negotiation. You could have easily doubled the size of your holdings.”

  “Brave talk for a dead man,” Eirar sneered. “If they refuse to leave, we kill the girl.”

  “If you kill the girl,” Caul spoke quietly, “then you had better kill me as well, or I will exterminate every member of your family before the year is out.”

  Caul could see in the reflection that his remark had sparked fear in his enemy. The shielded intruder holding Deirdre was still grinning, but it was a garish expression, drooling blood. He risked a look over at the man and saw that his throat had been cut from ear to ear. He felt a sudden impact, transmitted through Eirar’s body.

  The blade at his throat dropped to the deck with a clatter.

  The body behind him twitched, then dropped to the deck, a knife hilt protruding from his temple. The blood pooling beneath the shielded body began to show where it lay; a depression in the liquid here showed a shoulder, there a hand.

  Caul looked up to see Jan, wearing a Midgaard suit, hugging her daughter. She had turned off the cloak now that her little girl had been saved.

  He turned back to Lothbrok. “Did you say that you took prisoners?”

  “I did. We took three of them unawares when we came aboard. Rather than lose the element of surprise, we struck them on the back of the head.” He slid his sidearm back into its holster. “The fourth heard me coming and we had to open fire.”

  “Did you hear that?” Caul demanded of the surviving bridge crew. “Living prisoners.” He turned back to Lothbrok. “I made a promise while you were with our new friends, one I am pleased to honor. You now hold the fiefdom of Beringsburg. All tithes and duties are yours.”

  Lothbrok stared in shock. Two and a half million Midgaard citizens were now his responsibility. He was a wealthy man. A grin spread across his face. Pulling out his dagger, he slid the blade across his palm, letting the blood drip to the deck. “My blood is yours.” He closed his fist and held it over his heart, the blood dripping onto the plates of his suit.

  “Damn right it is,” Caul answered cheerfully. “Now gather up some men and go take Liev’s ship before he realizes how badly he’s mucked this up.”

  The Midway

  Just outside of Earth orbit

  “Harrison Young.” Towers grinned as his guest entered the ready room. “Why is it that, even after I save the whole damn planet, you manage to show up with a more interesting story?” He handed Harry a tumbler of whiskey and waved him to a sofa, dropping onto a club chair with a sigh.

  “Good to see you again, John.”

  “Yes, I’m a delight to look upon,” Towers drawled. “Where the hell
did you find that fleet and how did you convince them to come fight for us?”

  “They’re called the Midgaard and we ran into them just as they were preparing to raid Khola, the planet we bought our cargo from.”

  “Midgaard?” Towers frowned. “Isn’t that a Norse word?”

  “They got it from the Midgaard.” Harry grinned. “This is where the story bends the mind just a bit. The leader of the fleet is named Caul Hrada. The previous raid was led by his father, Odin. We’re pretty certain he was the Odin.”

  Towers looked at Harry with concern. “I hope you don’t really think you have the Norse pantheon of gods in those ships, Harry.”

  “Not gods.” Harry smiled into his whiskey. “They live a hell of a long time, but they die, just as easy as we do. Odin ran into trouble and got stranded in our region of space. He ended up here and he would have seemed like a god to our primitive ancestors.”

  “You’re full-on bullshitting me.”

  “Swear to God I’m not.” Harry held up a hand, extending a finger. “They came with us for two reasons – to fight the Dactarii,” he said, then extended a second finger, “and to find Odin and his people.” He downed the amber liquid and took a deep breath. “Odin’s father fought three fleets of Dactarii and it became one of the greatest moments in Midgaard history. When he heard that there were even more of them heading for Earth, there was just no stopping them. They really do like fighting the Dactarii.”

  “Well, he might be happy to learn that we’re about to start an invasion of the Dactarii Republic.” Towers still didn’t look quite convinced about the Odin connection, but allies were allies.

  “So we finally made the decision?” Harry had been hearing the debate for years. Most felt that the Dactarii couldn’t afford to let a defeat stand. It was common knowledge that their republic was a simmering cauldron of discord. Dissidents might take heart from the successful defiance of the Humans. That their success was made possible by a chance intercept and their victory achieved by the narrowest of margins would make little difference to rebel recruiters.