by M. R. Forbes
Amoebics flowed from the enemy, hundreds of projectiles cutting across the space between them, one of them striking the torpedo and destroying it.
"Damn," Mitchell said.
The other amoebics slipped past. A number of them exploded against the Dove's surface shields, though a few hit the Alliance and Federation ships around him. There was a sudden increase in chatter as the global channel started filling with damage reports.
Mitchell loaded a second torpedo, ready to fire again. Before he could, a stream of laser fire from the Carver and the Samurai hit the Tetron, digging in deep.
"Carver, Samurai, hold your fire," Mitchell shouted, too late. The combined power of the attack tore the Tetron to pieces, breaking it apart in a flare of energy. "Shit. We need them alive."
"Mitchell," Origin said. "Two of the Tetron have broken off and are dropping units to the surface."
"Knife, you have incoming," Mitchell said.
"Roger," Tio said.
"Colonel, we're getting torn apart out here," Steven said.
Mitchell put his eyes on the threat display. Steven wasn't kidding. Twenty percent of their forces were gone in less than a minute, and only one other Tetron had vanished from the map.
It was supposed to be easier than this.
"Falcon, target that one," Mitchell said, marking one of the Tetron and passing it to the Goliath. "I'll swing around on the port side. Carver, keep harassing the others around it, spread out a bit more to stay clear of their projectiles and plasma streams."
"Roger," Kate said.
"Samurai," Mitchell said. "Focus your efforts on target one three." He marked another target, one that was taking a heavy beating by the human forces. "Admiral Williams is right; we can't risk everyone waiting for a clean hit. A few more nukes should bring it down."
"Roger, Colonel," Admiral Hohn said, the ships in his battle group beginning to alter their course.
"Colonel," Origin said. "Two more Tetron are sending units to the surface. Tio will require reinforcements."
Mitchell cursed. Things were going from bad to worse in a hurry. Regardless of what he personally thought of Li'un Pulin, he didn't want the Tetron to get their hands on him.
"Millie," Mitchell said, opening a private channel.
"Mitch," she replied. "I was hoping you would call. I'm not used to sitting around while there's a war going on outside."
"There's a reason you're on the hot seat. Tio needs backup planetside."
Millie hesitated for a moment, and Mitchell knew why, but this was no time to hold onto the grudge.
"Roger," she said. "Tell him the Riggers are on the way."
"Affirmative," Mitchell said, closing the channel as the Dove shuddered. "Origin?"
"We have suffered damage from a partial collapse of the starboard shields," Origin said. "No critical systems are affected and the area is sealed."
Mitchell cursed himself for getting too distracted. Then again, how the hell was he supposed to not get distracted? He could barely keep up with directing traffic, never mind pilot his own ship.
"Riggers are away," Millie said over the public channel. "Knife Actual, we are inbound on your position, weapons hot."
"Rigger One, Knife Two One. Roger that," Teal said in Tio's place. With any luck, the Knife was en route to his brother. "We'll be grateful for your support."
"Ares, I'm almost in position," Kate said.
Mitchell returned his attention to the battle, quickly scanning the viewscreens. The Carver and her ships had fallen back some, half of the group breaking off and covering his rear as he headed for the cluster of Tetron in front of him. The battleship was trading fire with one of the intelligences, her shields wavering, her hull absorbing a pair of hits from the enemy amoebics, armor vaporizing and spreading away from her in a cloud of dust.
"Steven," Mitchell said under his breath. They had to deliver the payload, now, or he was going to be watching his brother die again.
He was going to be watching them all die again.
He found the Goliath down and to the right, splitting the center of three Tetron, shields flaring as it absorbed a barrage of amoebics, firing back into the port side of the enemy he had painted. He loosed his own round of projectiles at it, sending the streaks of light to slam into the still-active shields. He fired again, and again, blasting at the Tetron from one side while the Goliath attacked it from the other. Federation and Alliance ships swirled around them, hitting the same targets, doing their best to attract attention and weaken the enemy's shields. He caught sight of Ella out of the corner of his eye as she added her own firepower to the effort, leading a strafing run of a dozen fighters as they crossed the bow of the Tetron. They were followed by smaller machines that were detaching from the surface of the enemy intelligences; round cores trailing a dozen tentacles that swiveled and turned, firing lasers at the fighters. Four of the smaller ships vanished beneath the attack as the squadron aborted their run, turning to face them.
Mitchell kept firing, sending another fifty amoebics into his target's shields, finally breaking through.
"Shields down," he announced.
"Firing torpedo," Kate said.
"Firing," Mitchell said.
The projectiles shot away from both of the ships, rocketing toward the Tetron in the center. Mitchell's eyes were glued to them as they crossed the distance, only seconds away from impact. There was no way the enemy was going to be able to stop them both.
Or at least, he thought there was no way.
The squidlike machines that were attacking the fighters suddenly altered course, a number of them reaching out and locking arms, creating a web across the sections of the Tetron where the torpedos were headed. They rotated to get into position, catching his torpedo on the trailing edge, creating just enough impact that it detonated early. Kate's effort resulted in nearly the same outcome as the machines sacrificed themselves to prevent the payload from reaching the target.
"Damn it," Mitchell shouted, as loud as his lungs could handle. "Damn it."
"Ares, they have to know what the torpedos are, with the way they're trying to block them," Kate said.
"Frigging Watson," he replied. "It has to be. He frigging told them. Teegin, you said they weren't working together."
"They aren't," Teegin said. "He must have another motive for this."
"Worry about it later," Kate said. "We need to get a torpedo through."
"Colonel, Samurai Actual. I have taken critical damage. Primary systems are offline. Backup power is at twenty percent. We cannot win this fight. We must fall back, regroup and try again."
"Try again?" Mitchell said. "There is no trying again. If we lose here, we lose. That's it."
"Colonel," Steven said. "Mitchell, he's right. We have to fall back. Sixty percent of my battle group is down, and I can't take another hit. There are just too many of them. I'm sorry, Mitch, but we've lost."
Mitchell squeezed his eyes closed. He couldn't believe it. He had organized everything perfectly. Prepared everything perfectly. He had assembled the largest single fleet humankind had ever seen. He had sent everything they could muster against the Tetron.
And they had still lost?
It was inconceivable. Unbelievable. For all he had sacrificed. For all he had suffered. For all they had gone through to get here.
It was over. He knew it was. For as much as he wanted to deny it, Steven was right.
"Battle Fleet Carver, Battle Fleet Samurai, sound the retreat. If you can FTL away, get the hell out of here. Falcon, get the Goliath out of here."
"Mitchell," Kate said.
"No. Kate, it's over. Maybe we'll get another chance, but this battle is done. Yellow Leader, get your fighters on board the Goliath. Origin and I will get you the time you need to escape. Knife Two One, get your people together and get off the planet. Rigger Actual, pull out. Teegin, pass FTL coordinates to the fleet."
"Roger, Colonel," Teegin said.
The Dove shook as another serie
s of amoebics slammed into the shields.
"Origin, if we use the power in the eternal engine, how long can we maintain the shields?"
"It will have to be long enough, Mitchell."
"Make it happen."
"Yes, Mitchell."
"Colonel, I'm sorry," Steven said. "I hope to see you at the fallback position."
"I hope to see you, too," Mitchell replied. "Now go."
"Colonel," Ella said.
"Ella. I'm sorry I dragged you into this."
"Screw your apology, Colonel. I'm not quitting yet. I have an idea."
35
The S-17 screamed into the Goliath's hangar, reverse thrusters firing as the legs dropped and touched down on the surface of the starship. It was met there by the humanoid configuration Teegin had taken to using ever since they had gone to Earth, a configuration that was currently holding a long, sleek tube over his shoulder.
He didn't slow as he approached the fighter, and Ella didn't hesitate to flip the switches that opened the central bay beneath the fuselage. The S-17 vibrated as the bomb doors slid aside, allowing Teegin access to the space. It shook again as he lifted the torpedo up and into the open cavity, attaching it to the magnetic clips.
"Torpedo loaded," Teegin said, using the new channel they had created to communicate between the two instances of the Goliath.
The starship shuddered, a soft thump sounding from somewhere near the stern. The S-17 rattled, and the Teegin configuration planted a hand on the ground to keep from falling over. The fighting had been bad out there since the start, but now that the Alliance and Federation fleets were retreating it had gotten a hundred times worse.
You're crazy.
It was the statement Ella had repeated to herself a thousand times since she had quickly presented Mitchell with the plan, and he had not quite as quickly accepted it. The idea of flying the S-17 close enough to the Tetron to get the torpedo past any potential defenses was risky, gutsy, and more likely than not going to fail miserably. Which would have been bad enough on its own, but by committing to her, Mitchell had also committed the beat up remains of their motley navy, convincing both Steven and Admiral Hohn to refocus their efforts on stalling the fight, buying her time to load the torpedo and get back out there.
"Standby," Mitchell said.
She pivoted the S-17 on its feet, turning it to face the opening in the hangar. She could see the remains of the battle outside, pieces of small debris scattered everywhere, intermingled with starships whose power was out and whose crew was almost certainly dead, mixed with the occasional bits and pieces of the Tetron's liquid metal tendrils, and coated in a surface of damaged but operable ships that had changed course once again, rejoining the fight.
She had never expected that they would lose, not after the Alliance and the Federation had agreed to work together, a decision that was as historic as it was frightening in its implications. Not after she had seen the size of the fleet they had brought to bare. Over two hundred warships, nearly thirty percent of the combined firepower of each nation, and it had been broken within ten minutes. She had thought they would defeat the Tetron handily, the way they had in the asteroid field near Liberty. That was the way it should have gone.
Only it hadn't. She didn't know all of the reasons why, but it didn't matter why. If expectations always matched reality, there would be no need to have the battles in the first place. At the same time, she hated being on the wrong side. She hated it so much; she refused to accept it.
Which brought her back to being crazy.
The Goliath shuddered again, and Ella took an involuntary step back in the mech as part of the front edge of the hangar tore away, while the bottom edge crumpled inward, an amoebic piercing the shields and detonating only a hundred meters away and momentarily letting the vacuum of space in.
"Damn, that was close," she said, looking at Teegin through the canopy. "Colonel, I need to go now."
"Standby," Mitchell repeated. "On my mark."
She knew what he was doing, even if she couldn't see it. They had selected an isolated Tetron to attack, one of the four that had dropped units to the surface. Right now, he was softening it up, working in conjunction with Kate to bring down its shields so that she wouldn't have to worry about smashing herself against an energy field.
"This is the Samurai," she heard Admiral Hohn say on the global channel. "Backup power is depleted. We only have the air that has already been processed, and we have no means of further propulsion. We're dead in space."
"This is the Gallant. We've taken critical damage. We're-"
The voice of the Gallant's Captain was cut off. Ella lowered her head, certain she knew why.
"Mark ten degrees to port, fifteen degrees up," Mitchell said, giving her the go with the position of the Tetron in relation to the Dove.
"Roger, Colonel," Ella said, a simple thought throwing the main thrusters to full and sending the S-17 shooting toward the space beyond the damaged hangar.
"Good hunting, Captain," he said.
Then she was out into the universe, her shields flaring as they worked to knock aside the smaller bits of scattered debris. She brought the S-17 up, skating along the side of the Goliath and then over to the left, leveling off just above the starship and trying to ignore the deep scars that ran across the heavy armor. She focused on her target instead. A Tetron sitting alone a few hundred kilometers away, preparing to fire its main plasma cannon at the Dove, which Mitchell had positioned to attract its attention.
She had a straight shot to the intelligence. All she had to do was-
The CAP-NN triggered a proximity warning as something dove at her from above. She shifted her vector, spinning tightly in the vacuum and bringing the front of the ship around. One of the Tetron's squidlike machines was reaching for her, lasers striking her shields as it lashed out. She brought the fighter's cannon up in free hands, firing an amoebic and blowing the squid away before shifting back to the more sleek form and thrusting past its remains. She started to turn back toward the Tetron, but her HUD was registering even more of the machines incoming.
"Damn it," she said, sweeping around, ready to engage.
"Yellow Leader, stay on target," Mitchell said. "Red Squadron is inbound."
She smiled as she caught sight of them, sweeping over the bow of the Goliath and heading her way, on an intercept course with the machines. She tucked the fighter, rolling it to face the Tetron and exploding forward, even as the Goliath unleashed a round of amoebics beneath her position. They raced ahead of her, reaching across the distance and exploding against another mass of the enemy bots as they streamed away from the Tetron in an effort to defend it.
She maneuvered around the debris, the CAP-NN interface converting her intentions to quick, precise movements that guided the S-17 through the mess. Dozens of the squids were still moving, trying to gather her in. She fired on them as she approached, amoebics exploding against them and leaving only broken metal in her wake. She checked her HUD, finding Yellow Squadron was close by, engaging the enemy from below, while Blue Squadron was streaking in from above, their starfighters rocking side to side in an effort to bypass the Tetron's projectiles. Most were successful, but a few of the fighters exploded in a burst of silent flame.
The Dove was on the port side of the Tetron, still hitting it with amoebics, trying to keep it distracted. The entire battle had shifted direction, turning her way as the human forces gathered to pull her through the defenses. She caught sight of the Carver out of the corner of her eye, battered but not broken, still in motion, still firing lasers that burned into the enemy machines.
The enemy grew more dense the closer she came, the chatter behind growing more intense. Pilots were dying both in front and behind her, flying their starfighters between her and the Tetron, blocking her from amoebic projectiles and squids alike. Dying so that she could live, so that she could make it.
You're crazy.
Of course, she was. She always had been. Crazy had got
ten her into the Marines when her aptitude scores had been too low. Crazy had carried her through basic training and onto her first deployment. Crazy had brought her to outperform them all, to score higher than any other pilot on the Alliance roster. Crazy had gotten her assigned to the Greylock, where she had finally found a home.
And crazy was going to save humankind from the Tetron. Failure wasn't an option.
She streaked through the soup, her shields constantly flaring, her amoebic launcher firing, again and again, clearing a path. The Tetron, working out what they were doing, were converging on the humans converging on the single intelligence, ordering their contingent of machines in, firing with everything they had. Two more Alliance battleships vanished from her HUD beneath the onslaught. A handful of fighters fell at her back.
She was almost there. The Tetron loomed large ahead of her, amoebics streaking at her from beyond the outer edges of the dendrites, closer to the core. She swerved and jerked and swooped around them, intercepting them with amoebics of her own, blasting through the resulting explosions. She tapped the control to open the bomb door, lowering the torpedo.
"I'm in position," she said, her heart racing as she gave herself a few more seconds to get in even closer. A few more, and she would be touching the Tetron. "Firing, now!"
She sent the command through the CAP-NN, already starting to alter her vector to get herself turned around and headed back the other way.
The torpedo didn't launch.
"Shit," she said, reversing her course again, the fighter rocking hard as an amoebic detonated beside it. The CAP-NN complained, flashing her shield levels at her. Five percent. It might as well have been zero.
You're crazy.
She knew she was. Why else would she decide to go full thrust, the torpedo dangling from the bottom of the S-17? She tried to fire it again, and again nothing happened. She rolled to the left as an amoebic streamed past her from within the core, unsure how she had managed to avoid it.