by Isaac Hooke
“Do you want to fire a mortar and slug spread, Commander?” Miko said.
“Not yet,” Robert replied. “Remember, this is a first contact situation. They’re probably mostly curious at the moment. Let’s not change their mood.”
The Callaway and the four other United Systems ships quickly closed with the Marley and placed themselves in a defensive grid behind her.
“Miko, any guesses on what they want with the Marley?” Robert said.
“Maybe the vessel detected the same minerals from the Gate in her cargo stores,” Miko responded. “Though I’m not sure why that would attract them.”
“Those minerals would be in their raw, unprocessed state, wouldn’t they?” Robert asked.
“That’s right,” Miko said.
Robert rubbed his earlobe. “Interesting.”
“Alien vessel has closed to one thousand kilometers,” Lewis said.
“Hold fire...” Robert said.
“Five hundred kilometers.”
“Three hundred.”
“One hundred.”
On the tactical display, Robert watched the alien vessel close to a kilometer from the Callaway, which stood directly between it and the Marley.
“Alien vessel has decelerated, and is holding its position,” Lewis said.
“Comm, try to hail them again,” Robert ordered.
“No response,” Lazur replied.
“They’re accelerating again,” Lewis said. “And applying dorsal thrust of some kind. They’re flying right underneath us.”
Robert watched the vessel squeeze past the Callaway and the Salvador toward the Builder.
“They’re matching the Marley’s speed,” the ensign said.
“How close are they to her?” Robert asked.
“Less than eight hundred meters below her lowest point,” Lewis said.
Robert glanced at his first officer. “Miko, what’s the charge on our heavy lasers?”
“Forty-five percent as of this moment,” Miko answered.
The commander pursed his lips. “At this range, if we concentrated our Vipers, how much damage could we cause?”
“Major,” Miko said. “We’d probably cut a hole right through them. Assuming their armor is similar to our own.”
“The alien vessel has ascended slightly,” Lewis said. “Their closest point is now five hundred meters below the Marley.”
“Do you want to fire, sir?” Miko asked.
“Not yet,” Robert said. He set one elbow down on the armrest, and placed his chin in his palm. “What the hell do they want?”
“Sir!” Ensign Lewis said. “The alien vessel is initiating some sort of beam. It seems to be a concentrated gravitational wave of some kind... they’re carving a piece out of the Marley’s hull!”
On the video feed, Robert saw a long, perfectly cylindrical hull segment float away from the Builder toward the alien vessel.
“The Marley is reporting a hull breach on its lower deck,” Lewis said. “Near their engine room. If they take another hit in that area, the reactor could go critical.”
“And we lose our Builder ship,” Robert said. Along with our way home. “Miko, target them with our heavy beams. I want every ship involved, and aiming for the same area. Location is at your discretion. But I want only a ten percent burst, fleet-wide. I don’t want to destroy them.”
A moment later Miko said: “Vipers are locked on target and ready to discharge a ten percent burst.”
“Fire,” Robert said. An instant later: “Lewis, tell me what we did.”
“Vipers appear to have had no effect,” Lewis said.
So much for their armor being similar to our own.
Robert watched the cylindrical hull segment from the Marley reach the alien vessel. Some sort of hangar door spiraled open and swallowed the salvaged item.
“Miko, how much charge do we have left?” Robert asked.
“We were at fifty, and now we’re down to forty. Fleet-wide.”
“All right, prepare to fire again,” Robert said. “Target the same area. But this time have the fleet unleash the full forty percent charge.”
“Ready,” Miko said.
“Fire.”
On the video feed, the attacker abruptly swerved downward.
“That did it,” Miko said.
“The alien vessel is retreating toward the Slipstream,” Lewis said. “I’m detecting a thermal leak where our Vipers hit. We definitely caused a breach.”
“Once bitten, twice shy...” Robert said. “Hold speed. Keep putting distance between us.”
When the retreating vessel was halfway to the Slipstream, a second red dot appeared on the tactical display, sourced from the alien.
“Sir, it just fired a projectile of some kind,” Lewis said. “It’s headed toward our fleet. Fast.”
Robert shifted in his seat. “A projectile? Miko, launch mortars. I want that thing taken out.”
A few moments later, Lewis said: “The projectile is altering course to avoid the mortars.”
Robert clenched his jaw. “Where’s a smart missile when you need one? Miko, target it with Vipers fleet-wide.”
“Targeting,” Miko responded.
“Fire when lasers reach fifty percent charge,” Robert said.
Several moments later Miko announced: “Firing.”
“Did we get it?” Robert asked.
“The Viper beam drilled right through it,” Lewis responded.
“So we disabled it, or not?” Robert pressed.
“I don’t know. It’s still advancing.”
“Helm, alter course,” Robert told his helmsman. “Five degrees to starboard. Miko, transmit the order to the fleet.”
A moment later Ensign Lewis said: “Pursuing object is matching our course and continuing to overtake us.” She paused. “The main alien vessel just fled through the Slipstream.”
“And into Vega 951,” Robert said. “We haven’t seen the last of them, whoever the hell they were.” He glanced at the tactical display. The “projectile” continued to close. “Have the fleet alter course again. I want us moving thirty degrees into the Z plane, and twenty degrees to starboard this time.”
“Altering course,” Miko responded.
“Projectile is matching our trajectory once again,” Lewis said. “It will reach proximity fuse range in T-minus forty-five seconds.”
“Proximity fuse range,” Robert said. “You’re basing that range on one of our own nukes, of which we are sorely lacking at the moment?”
“I am,” Lewis agreed.
“Split up the task group,” Robert told Miko. “If one of us has to take a hit, I want the others as far away as possible when the time comes. Also, coordinate with Maxwell to fire more mortars fleet-wide, Miko. Include a follow-up slug spread. Let’s see if we can’t bring that thing down.”
“The fleet is moving apart,” Miko replied. “And I’m working out a firing solution with Maxwell.” A moment later: “Launching mortars and slugs.”
“The projectile is altering course to skirt the attack once again,” Lewis responded. “It looks like it detected the following slug spread, too, because their trajectory will take them up and over the second wave entirely.”
“Damn it,” Robert said.
“But we have bought ourselves another five seconds,” Lewis added.
Small consolation.
On the tactical display, Robert watched as the six ships continued to spread apart.
“The projectile is homing in on the Marley,” Lewis said.
“What?” Robert leaned forward. “No. Helm, bring us back in line with the Marley. We’re going to have to shield her. I want us a kilometer off her aft section.”
“We don’t know what that projectile is capable of,” Miko said. “We could be sacrificing the Callaway.”
“I know,” Robert said. “But do we have any other choice? Maxwell, begin evacuating the crew to the lifepods.”
“Affirmative,” the AI responded.
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As Maxwell’s voice came over the main circuit to announce the evacuation procedures, the Callaway resumed its shield position behind the Marley. The helmsman brought the cruiser to within a kilometer of the Builder’s aft section, as Robert had requested.
The other four ships had moved to a distance of fifty kilometers away by then.
“Prepare to fire Vipers fleet-wide one last time,” Robert said. “Concentrate the beams as best you can.” With the fleet spread out like that, not all of the heavy lasers would be able to strike the same spot, Robert knew.
“Ready,” Miko responded. “But charge is only fifteen percent.”
“Fire,” Robert said.
“We hit it,” Lewis told him.
“Helm, alter course,” Robert said. “Fifteen degrees starboard. Miko, have the Marley mirror us.”
“Projectile is matching,” Lewis said.
Robert exhaled. We can’t win.
“Impact in five seconds,” Lewis said.
“Four.”
“Three.”
“Two.”
“One.”
Robert held his breath. He expected at least some sign of impact. A rumble. The distant groan of metal. But there was nothing.
He glanced at the ensign uncertainly. “Ops. Did it hit us?”
Lewis hesitated. Then: “Sir. The projectile altered course at the last moment and flew past us. The Marley...”
“What?” Robert switched the video feed to the nose camera. The Builder ship had split apart. Its two jagged halves continued forward, moving with their previous momentum in front of the Callaway. “No.”
“I’m detecting a surge of thermal energy from the debris,” Ensign Lewis said.
The two separate pieces of the Marley glowed blue along their torn edges; that azure line moved outward along the hull, leaving behind empty space in its wake.
“No,” Robert said. “No. No.”
The deterioration continued rapidly until there was nothing left of the Builder. On the thermal band, the elevated readings vanished with the last of the debris.
The bridge crew stared open-mouthed through their aReals.
“I guess we pissed them off,” Maxwell intoned.
“Ensign, are we reading any debris?” Robert asked, ignoring the AI.
“Not in the usual sense, Commander,” Lewis responded. She sounded stunned.
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Lewis said. “Where the Builder resided, I am detecting elevated levels of hydrogen consistent with a ship of its size.”
“What are you saying? It broke down the ship into hydrogen?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Lewis responded. “It appears the constituent molecules of the Builder and its crew have been completely converted into elemental hydrogen. Single protons orbited by lone electrons. The building blocks of the universe. The thermal energy readings I detected earlier were likely the breaking of the molecular bonds.”
For several moments Robert stared at the empty space where the Marley had once resided. While he grieved the loss of the civilian crew that had manned the Builder, a greater sorrow weighed heavily on his heart in that moment.
How are we going to get home?
“Cancel the evacuation,” Robert told Maxwell. “Helm, turn us around. Let’s retrieve the lifepods that launched already.”
“Aye sir,” the helmsman responded.
And once that was done, how was he supposed to break the news to the crew? None of you are ever heading home. Sorry about that. Hope you enjoy spending the rest of your days aboard a starship in a galaxy millions of lightyears away.
Robert switched to the aft feed and zoomed in on the half-finished Gate.
He rubbed his eyes wearily.
Well Jonathan, guess I won’t be seeing you in three months time after all.
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postscript
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about the author
USA Today bestselling author Isaac Hooke holds a degree in engineering physics, though his more unusual inventions remain fictive at this time. He is an avid hiker, cyclist, and photographer who sometimes resides in Edmonton, Alberta.
acknowledgments
THANK YOU to my knowledgeable beta readers and advanced reviewers who helped smooth out the rough edges of the prerelease manuscript: Nicole P., Jeremy G., Doug B., Jenny O., Amy B., Bryan O., Noel, Anton, Spencer, Norman, Corey, Erol, Terje, David, Charles, Walter, Lisa, Ramon, Chris, Scott, Michael, Chris, Bob, Jim, Maureen, Zane, Chuck, Shayne, Anna, Dave, Roger, Nick, Gerry, Charles, Annie, Patrick, Mike, Jeff, Lisa, Lezza, Jason, Bryant, Janna, Tom, Jerry, Chris, Jim, Brandon, Kathy, Norm, Jonathan, Derek, Shawn, Judi, Eric, Rick, Bryan, Barry, Sherman, Jim, Bob, Ralph, Darren, Michael, Chris, Michael, Julie, Glenn, Rickie, Rhonda, Neil, Claude, Ski, Joe, Paul, Larry, John, Norma, Jeff, David, Brennan, Phyllis, Robert, Darren, Daniel, Montzalee, Robert, Dave, Diane, Peter, Skip, Louise, Dave, Michael, David, Merry, David, Brent, Erin, Paul, Cesar, Jeremy, Hans, Dan, Garland, Trudi, Sharon, Dave, Pat, Nathan, Max, Martin, Greg, David, Myles, Nancy, Ed, David, Karen, Becky, Jacob, Ben, Don, Carl, Gene, Bob, Luke, Teri, Robine, Gerald, Lee, Rich, Ken, Daniel, Chris, Al, Andy, Tim, Robert, Fred, David, Mitch, Don, Tony, Dian, Tony, John, Sandy, James, David, Pat, Gary, Jean, Bryan, William, Roy, Dave, Vincent, Tim, Richard, Kevin, George, Andrew, John, Richard, Robin, Sue, Mark, Jerry, Rodger, Rob, Byron, Ty, Mike, Gerry, Steve, Benjamin, Anna, Keith, Jeff, Josh, Herb, Bev, Simon, John, David, Greg, Larry, Timothy, Tony, Ian, Niraj, Maureen, Jim, Len, Bryan, Todd, Maria, Angela, Gerhard, Renee, Pete, Hemantkumar, Tim, Joseph, Will, David, Suzanne, Steve, Derek, Valerie, Laurence, James, Andy, Mark, Tarzy, Christina, Rick, Mike, Paula, Tim, Jim, Gal, Anthony, Ron, Dietrich, Mindy, Ben, Steve, Allen, Paddy & Penny, Troy, Marti, Herb, Jim, David, Alan, Leslie, Chuck, Dan, Perry, Chris, Rich, Rod, Trevor, Rick, Michael, Tim, Mark, Alex, John, William, Doug, Tony, David, Sam, Derek, John, Jay, Tom, Bryant, Larry, Anjanette, Gary, Travis, Jennifer, Henry, Nicole, Drew, Michelle, Bob, Gregg, Billy, Jack, Lance, Sandra, Libby, Jonathan, Karl, Thomas, Todd, Dave, Dale, Michael, Frank, Josh, Thom, Melissa, Marilynn, Bob, Bruce, Clay, Gary, Sarge, Andrew, Deborah, Steve, and Curtis.
Without you all, this novel would have typos, continuity errors, and excessive lapses in realism. Thank you for helping me make Cradle of War the best military science fiction novel it could possibly be, and thank you for leaving the early reviews that help new readers find my books.
And of course I’d be remiss if I didn't thank my mother, father, and brothers, whose untiring wisdom and thought-provoking insights have always guided me through the untamed warrens of life.
— Isaac Hooke
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