by Jason Hutt
“Hannah, get back there and close the hatch when they’re through.” Max looked over the display. Each of Ironheart’s drones created a separate blip on the display as did each freighter, shuttle, and kluged combat ship in the pirate’s fleet. Ironheart’s plan was to overwhelm and confuse and hopefully last long enough for the boarding parties to give them a shot to get out.
Max had to admit that the swirling mass of ships was overwhelming, but blips were winking out at an alarming rate. Massive projectiles tore through the heart of the swarm, knocking out whole swaths of drones. Lasers arced outward hulling several smaller shuttles.
“We’re through,” Gauntlet reported, “Get clear. We’ll call you if we need a ride home.”
“I’ll be ready,” Max said.
“Hatch closed,” Hannah reported.
The Guardian detached, a wormhole opened, and they were suddenly back on the other side of the battle, well behind the engagement.
“Sir,” Reggie said, “You should know that Ms. Cabot is no longer aboard the ship.”
“What?”
***
Hannah dropped to the deck with a not-so-subtle clang that echoed throughout the engine room. Gauntlet whipped her head around and leveled her oversized rifle. Hannah put her hands up and didn’t move.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Gauntlet asked.
“I want to help,” Hannah said, taking a tentative step forward.
“Sweetheart, this is a god damn suicide run. I don’t have time to babysit your ass.”
“I know,” she said, holding her chin up and refusing to back down.
Gauntlet frowned. “Did you bring a weapon or were you just going to shoot them dirty looks?”
Hannah raised Max’s old disruptor. “This is the best I can do.”
“I’ll be surprised if that thing can shoot anything but dust,” Gauntlet said, “All right, Cabot, you stay on my hip, understand?”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know you and because I’m not running after your ass in a pinch. Your father-”
“He’s not my father.”
Gauntlet rolled her eyes. “Right, I forgot you too were in the middle of the dysfunctional family Christmas special. Look, just stay with me and don’t do anything unless I tell you to. Got it?”
Hannah nodded. Gauntlet’s team had already taken defensive positions among the various pipes, pumps, and other assorted equipment in this engineering section. Hannah scurried up and crouched behind Gauntlet.
“So, what’s the plan?” Hannah asked.
“Good question. Optic, where are we going?”
“We’re not going to just blow the engine room?” Hannah asked.
“Only if dying today is our only option,” Gauntlet said, “We’re not to that point…get down!”
“Halt!” A sentry drone commanded. “Intruders detected in engine-” The drone exploded in a shower of sparks as a jolt of electricity arced from the edge of Gauntlet’s weapon and through the small robot. It clattered to the deck.
“Well, so much for the element of surprise,” Gauntlet said, “Optic, where the hell are we going?”
“Auxiliary control is two decks down and about two hundred meters forward.”
“Well, show me the way.”
***
“Sir,” the excited young ensign on the comm console called out, “A boarding party has been detected in the engine room. We’re also getting reports of incursions into the Independence, McQuarrie, and Scimitar.”
“How?” Akimbe asked. “How did they get there?”
“Don’t know, sir.”
“Cabot,” Akimbe whispered.
Suddenly, the icon for the Independence went from green to red and the ship started to drift in the battle projection.
“What happened?”
“Independence reporting a large explosion in the engine room…main power offline…weapons offline.”
Akimbe gripped the edge of the console with white knuckles.
“I want every available security team on this,” Akimbe said, “Hunt them down and kill them before they have the chance to do the same to us. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
Akimbe growled, “Do we have a firing solution on the larger ships?”
“No, sir. The swarm of ships is preventing us from getting a lock.”
“Then give me your best guess and let loose with all batteries. Comm, signal the interceptors. Once the barrage is away, they are to move on any ships that try to break off from the main group. They are to either shepherd them back into the fray or destroy them.”
“Understood.”
***
Something punched a giant hole through the center of the swirling mass of drones and the transponders for two of the non-combat ships in Ironheart’s swarm went offline. Seconds later, some large mass tore through the nose of the frigate just to starboard of the Phantom. Half the ship vaporized and the other half was vented to the harsh vacuum of space.
“What the hell was that?” Somebody shouted over the comm.
“We lost the Marauder.”
“Interceptors incoming.”
“Lost half the drones.”
“Enough of this bullshit. We’re running.”
But Max wasn’t listening to those calls. “Gauntlet, do you copy? Are you there?”
Silence and then through choppy comm, he heard, “I’m here, Max. What is it?”
“Is Hannah with you?”
Gauntlet paused long enough that Max checked the console to see if the link was still up. Finally, she said, “Yes, she’s with us.”
Max sank into his chair and he closed his eyes. His chest felt tight and it hurt to breathe. “Damn it,” he whispered. He looked up and tears rolled down his face. “Please, Gauntlet, please get her out of there alive.”
The only thing Max could hear in return was the sound of an electrical discharge and then someone screamed. Max balled his hand into a fist and slammed it against the console.
“Reggie,” Max said, “Get us back there.”
“Yes, sir,” Reggie replied, “But may I remind you that we will not be able to linger for long in the shadow of the ship’s main thrusters. We will be detected.”
Max gritted his teeth. He stared at the swirling mass of dots on his tactical display. “What the hell do I do?” He whispered.
“Shall I jump, sir?”
“No,” Max said.
***
A panel exploded to Hannah’s right as beams cut just above their heads. Security drones fired low intensity beams, hot enough to burn skin and inflict a lot of pain as the blistered, raw patch of skin on Optic’s leg testified to, but not powerful enough to pierce the hull, rupture coolant lines, or damage other sensitive equipment. The drones fought with caution trying to contain the team of five intruders that was slowly forging through the bottlenecks that were the ship’s corridors.
“Down!” Gauntlet yelled as she tossed a grenade over the ripped-up floor panels they were using for cover. The air crackled and Hannah shielded her eyes as the corridor exploded with bright blue light. Several clangs in quick succession followed the flash as now defunct drones collapsed to the deck. A pipe burst and water poured out flooding the corridor. Somewhere below the floor grating, something fizzed and popped. The air smelled of ozone.
“Now where?” Gauntlet asked.
“Down one more deck,” Optic said.
“Brute, Crank, you’re up,” Gauntlet said. They could hear the distinctive hum of more approaching drones. Gauntlet readied her weapon as Crank pulled up another floor panel. A nest of cables was revealed that Brute sliced through with reckless abandon using the electrified blades that extended from her fingertips.
Crank got down on his knees and placed his palms against the subfloor. Hannah could hear a grinding and she noticed a slight tremor in his hands. He nodded to Brute who tapped a couple of controls on her forearm as the cutting edge on her fingertips retracted and was
replaced by a metal point that had started to glow. When the tip reached white hot, she started cutting through the floor.
Gauntlet opened fire sending jolts of electricity towards the approaching drones. The robots pressed forward, undaunted when one of their number fell. Gauntlet threw another grenade; Hannah closed her eyes and waited for the crackling to stop before she opened them again.
“Done,” Brute yelled.
Crank pulled with all his strength and the subfloor pulled free, the small section still attached to his hands. He dropped through the opening after a quick glance, holding the detached plate in front of him like a shield.
“Clear,” he yelled and Brute dropped down after him with Optic close behind.
“Go,” Gauntlet yelled and Hannah dropped through the hole. She hit the floor with bent knees and narrowly missed falling forward face-first into a shipping crate.
Above them, Hannah could hear the crackle of another grenade and then Gauntlet dropped through the opening.
“Optic?”
“Out that door and go thirty meters down the corridor. Door will be on the right.”
Brute opened the door and something exploded. Hot metal bits from her prosthetic arm stung Hannah’s face. Two drones were immediately through the door and one plunged its arm through Brute’s midsection. A gurgled cry escaped her lips as blood trickled down the robot’s arm.
Crank yelled, grabbed the robot by its shoulders and pulled its arms off. Gauntlet opened fire, putting a half meter whole in the chest of the other drone. A smoke grenade exploded just outside the door.
“Masks,” Gauntlet ordered as she touched a collar around her neck and a small shimmering environmental field enshrouded her head. Optic and Crank did the same. Hannah’s eyes began to burn and she coughed uncontrollably. She stumbled to the unmoving body of Brute and grabbed the collar from around the young woman’s neck.
Hannah fumbled with it, struggling with the connection. She tried to activate the field, but her trembling fingers couldn’t find the control stud. Her lungs burned and tears flowed from her eyes. She couldn’t find it. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she could barely make out Optic’s form through a haze of tears. He reached a hand toward her neck and activated the mask.
Hannah could breathe again.
“They know where we’re headed,” Gauntlet said, “There’s at least twenty in the corridor between us and them – meatbags and drones.”
“Let’s go,” Crank said, unable to take his eyes off Brute, “Let’s get this done.”
Gauntlet threw two grenades into the corridor.
***
Several small transports had broken away from Ironheart’s battle group and were turning to head back to the asteroid field. Two Republic Interceptors had broken from the blockade line and were on an intercept course. A moment later, one of the transports disappeared. Then after another heartbeat, so did the other.
“Damn it,” Max said. “Reggie, can you get us in there?”
A third transport was destroyed.
“Standby, sir, analyzing.”
The remaining two transports broke in opposite directions.
“Reggie?”
“Ready, sir.”
“Let’s grab the lead one. Dump us out somewhere safe.”
Space-time ripped, the Guardian slipped through the wormhole and emerged just trailing the transport. Max fired his thrusters and slipped ahead of the boxy craft. Space-time ripped again and both ships disappeared from the system.
***
“There you are,” Akimbe said. He paused the tactical projection and went back a few seconds. He tapped the dot that had to be Cabot’s ship and marked it. He watched as the craft slipped in front of a fleeing transport and then disappeared from the projection.
“Scan, where did he go?”
“No idea, sir. He’s not showing up in the system.”
Akimbe stood there, one arm folded across his chest while the other pulled at his lower lip. Several members of his crew were staring at him. Cabot’s ship reappeared and settled into position in front of the other transport. Within seconds, both ships once disappeared from the system.
“Deploy the interceptors to maximize containment, but stay out of the cone of fire,” Akimbe said. “Maximize bombardment. Give them everything we’ve got.”
At that moment, one of the other Republic cruisers, the Scimitar, started flashing yellow.
“Report?”
“The incursion team detonated some explosives in their life support equipment. Combat systems are still functioning, propulsion and maneuvering also online.”
They weren’t out of the fight, but they were limited.
“Do they need assistance?”
“No, sir.”
“What’s our status?”
“Security is still pursuing. They’re targeting the auxiliary bridge.”
“Show me,” Akimbe said.
His battle projection slid to the right and was joined by a projection of the corridor that led to the auxiliary control room. A team of four, led by a hulking woman with oversized metal gauntlets, had engaged. Akimbe watched as the woman in the lead fought with reckless abandon, laying waste to the men and machines in her path. Another woman stood directly behind her, covering her with sporadic fire from an old disruptor rifle. There was something about her face.
“Hannah,” Akimbe said. He stared at her image and a smile spread across his face.
***
Sweat poured down Hannah’s face as she popped up over Gauntlet’s shoulder, fired off two shots, and then ducked down again. An arc of electricity struck the wall above her left shoulder. Gauntlet tossed another grenade. It exploded in a shower of blue light and Hannah shielded her eyes.
“We’re not getting very far,” Optic said.
“I noticed,” Gauntlet replied. She fired off another shot.
Hannah stood, fired, felled another drone, and then felt the wind get sucked out of her chest as another security team arrived.
“More of them,” Hannah said.
Gauntlet was holding the last of her grenades. She grimaced as she looked at the small silver cylinder in her hand. “Crank, take us down another level,” she finally said, “Optic, find us something that’ll burn bright.”
***
A Republic Interceptor was shredded as it violently collided with one of Ironheart’s cloaked shuttlecraft. Max could hear the screams of the pilot on the intercom before the dying man’s voice mercifully cut out.
“Ironheart, we’re getting slaughtered. We’ve got to get people out,” Max said, “Or there won’t be anyone left to fight with you.”
Ironheart sighed. “Do it, Max. Save as many as you can.”
“Give me a priority list.”
“It’s on its way.”
“Reggie, start picking out our targets,” Max said, “Be ready to execute the jump when they’ve matched our vector and are within safe distance.”
“Yes, sir,” Reggie responded, “I feel compelled to remind you that we can’t make this many jumps without allowing the generator to recharge.”
Max grimaced as he swung the ship around looking for his first target. The Guardian was a mere two hundred meters away when the targeted shuttle suddenly broke apart, cleaved amidships by an unseen projectile. “I know, Reggie, but I don’t think that’s going to be an issue.”
Max was trying to locate the next target when a voice broke over the comm. “Hello, Max, it’s so good to see you.”
“Akimbe,” Max said. Max could hear the glee in his pursuer’s voice.
“It gives me such great joy that you remember me.”
“Go to hell,” Max said.
“Maybe, Max, but you’re going to beat me there. You’ve lost. Your compatriots are being torn apart, pulverized into dust. With every ship that disappears off my display, our efforts are renewed. It won’t be long now, Max. You may save one or two, but their defeat, their deaths are inevitable.”
Max clu
tched his fist. The ship he was pursuing started to tumble. Max looked at the scan; the ship’s cockpit had been punctured.
“Surrender now, Max, and maybe I’ll let some of them live. Oh, and let’s not forget, I have your daughter aboard my ship. Here, let me broadcast the security feed, so that you can watch as her and the miscreants with her are cut down by my disciplined, relentless, tireless crew.”
Max’s console chimed and he accepted the incoming video feed. An image of a ship’s corridor appeared. Four heads randomly popped up from behind partial cover and fired through a crowd of drones and soldiers that lined the other end of the corridor. The image shifted to another camera in the corridor and a picture appeared of more troops waiting just behind the fighting. The feed switched back just as Optic poked his head up and took an arc of electricity to the throat. As Optic collapsed to the floor, Max bit through the skin of his lower lip. He could taste the blood as it seeped into his mouth, the tip of his tongue poking at the spot where he broke the skin.
“Reggie,” Max said, “Find me a big rock.”
***
Optic hadn’t moved for several seconds. Gauntlet was yelling something, but Hannah couldn’t hear her over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. Hannah stared at Optic through the haze of smoke that filled the hallway. She had heard the brief exchange between Max and Akimbe; the bastard had made sure to broadcast the transmission throughout the ship.
Hannah dove across the corridor and grabbed Optic’s weapon as a laser beam cut just above her head. They didn’t have long; Hannah knew it, they all did. There were just too many of them.
So many combat drones had fallen that their burned-out carcasses covered every inch of floor between what remained of Gauntlet’s team and the firing squad of flesh and blood soldiers that stood at the far end of the corridor. Shots splashed off the walls around her, but Hannah’s anger, her absolute red-hot rage, boiled over and she couldn’t cower any more.
With a weapon in each hand, Hannah screamed and pulled both triggers. She charged ahead and drones that were built to target the ID chips in a person’s neck fired a shot just behind her. She knew that their targeting systems would adapt, that it would only take seconds for the microswitches in their cybernetic brains to reroute targeting algorithms from tracking to predictive. Their sensors studied her movements and would calculate her next step with only a two percent margin of error.