“Die, you son of a bitch!” Mark said as he activated the fire control with a single thought. His weapons pod blazed as a single burst of energy leapt from his ship to the hull of the Jerrollite craft. A blaze of bright green fire enveloped it completely, causing it to disintegrate in midflight. As the energy reached the fuel source, a brief explosion filled Mark’s view screen. Diving through the middle of the fire, Mark came up behind another Jerrollite that was locked in on a TAC-WING. The human pilot was glancing frantically over his shoulder as he sensed that death was imminent. Mark could hear his pleas for help over the radio.
“Get him off me! Get him off me!”
“Stand by!” Mark frantically worked his controls. “I have a lock. Break left!” The TAC-WING pilot broke left as Mark fired. His laser swept up the back of the enemy fighter and made the outer skin bubble and blister. As the beams reached the cockpit area, the craft erupted into a brilliant flash. Mark peeled off to the right to avoid colliding with the debris.
“Thanks, sir.”
“No problem—let’s get back in it!”
Both craft turned to rejoin the fight. As Mark picked a target, his ship shook violently. An out-of-control Jerrollite fighter struck it, causing him to lose control. Mark struggled to regain proper orientation of his ship, firing his thrusters to counteract the spin his ship was in. He checked his display for a new target and saw that he was the target of three Jerrollite fighters bearing down on him from three different directions at once. Mark increased his thrust to maximum and dove into a spinning loop, whipping violently from side to side in an attempt to shake the Jerrollites off his tail. Completing the violent maneuver, he looked over his shoulder to see the Jerrollites were even closer than they were before. A fourth fighter had broken off from the main group, sensing the kill. All four of them moved in on Mark like a pack of hungry dogs. The newest fighter to join the hunt moved into a flanking position to the right of Mark’s ship.
If I have to go, I’m not going alone! Mark thought. He slammed his stick violently to the right, causing his ship to spin ninety degrees on its axis. He opened fire on the nearest Jerrollite, completely destroying it. The other three ships opened fire on him at the same time, a lucky first shot impacting Mark’s ship and damaging the control circuitry for his weapons pod.
Dammit! There was nothing left to do. Resigning himself to his fate, he applied full throttle in an attempt to ram the nearest Jerrollite ship.
“AAAIEEEEEEE!” he screamed, preparing to meet his maker. The Jerrollite ship loomed in front of him as he squeezed his eyes shut. His whole body braced for the impact and flaming death that he knew would come within seconds.
Mark heard the sizzling crackle of laser fire, followed by a brilliant flash of white light. Great, he thought, I’m dead. His comm link crackled with a cheerful voice.
“What’s the matter, boy? Trying to kill yourself or sumpthin’?”
Mark gingerly opened his eyes to discover that he was, as hard as it was to believe, still alive. He thumbed his comm link control and responded. “Thanks, Johann. I think I owe you a big one.” His voice was quivering with the adrenaline rush he had experienced only moments before.
“That you do, mah boy. That you do. Maybe you can buy me a cold one when we get through here. What you say?”
Mark laughed in amazement at Johann’s attitude. “You got it! Now let’s clean up the rest of this mess and go home!”
Both men kicked in their boosters and swung around to rejoin the battle. Even though Mark’s ship was damaged, there was no way he was leaving Johann to fight alone. Jerrollite ships were rapidly being destroyed, one after another, with the additional firepower of the transports. Within minutes nothing was left but floating debris to indicate that the Jerrollites had ever been there.
The Jerrollite commander surveyed his situation as he cast his gaze over his bridge crew. His ship was rushing headlong toward the Hercules. They had suffered extremely heavy damage at the hands of the humans but had retained more than enough mass to utterly destroy the Hercules. The bridge crew cast nervous glances at him as they approached the point where collision was unavoidable. What they saw in their commander’s face made them realize they had better make peace with their maker and very soon.
“No return point in three seconds,” said a crewman from across the room.
“Acknowledged,” came the terse reply from the commander. He stood stiffly, gazing out at the stars, preparing to meet his fate. If only that idiot T’lal had not been left in charge, none of this would have happened, he thought. Now we all have to die to correct his mistake. The commander could only hope that T’lal had suffered an excruciating death at the hands of the humans. The thought gave him a dark sense of pleasure.
“Point of no return has been passed, Commander.”
“Acknowledged,” he said, steeling himself for impending death.
The Jerrollite ship hurtled forward into the void like a silver bullet aimed straight at humanity’s future.
“Evasive! NOW!” said Matheson.
The bridge of the Hercules was a flurry of activity as the helmsman brought the ship over, hard to port, in an attempt to avoid the onrushing Jerrollite vessel. The ship groaned under the stress of the sudden maneuver and rocked violently to one side as bodies, equipment, and anything else not bolted down skittered across the floor and crashed into the far wall.
“No use, sir! Every course correction we make is being matched exactly by the Jerrollite! Collision will occur in approximately two minutes!”
General Matheson pulled himself up from the floor and stood in the center of the bridge. He could see the Jerrollite ship on his forward view screen coming straight toward him.
“Open fire! All weapons, fire at will!”
Brilliant beams of energy leapt from the weapons pods all over the Hercules. Many scored direct hits on the hull of the Jerrollite vessel, but its armor was sufficient to withstand them. The enemy ship began to return fire; a massive energy beam danced down the hull of the Hercules, inflicting major damage along the port side. Explosions rocked the ship as the beam continued to burn through the outer hull.
“Strengthen the port shields!” said Matheson.
“Aye, sir. Shields are now stable and holding!” said an ensign.
“Sir, I’m not sure how long we can withstand that beam. It’s taking everything we’ve got to keep it from ripping through the ship!” said the ops officer.
“Understood.” Matheson realized his ship could not continue to take the pounding and most certainly would not survive being rammed by the Jerrollite ship. Feeling frustrated by an apparently hopeless situation, he was startled by a quiet voice from behind him.
“Use the weapon, General.”
He spun around to see Bill Johnson standing at the entrance to the bridge. “Use it,” Bill said again.
“We’re too close to Earth, aren’t we?”
“Yes, sir, but I would say that it’s time to take a calculated risk. If we set the pulse duration to an absolute minimum, we should be able to control the reaction.” Matheson raised his eyebrows as Bill continued. “Besides, if that ship destroys us, humanity won’t survive, so either way we’ll be screwed. If we use the weapon, we’ll at least have a chance.”
Matheson didn’t hesitate. “Bring the generator online and prepare to fire on my command.”
His crew leapt into action. They all sensed a sliver of hope if they could get the weapon online in time. The doors to the cargo hold lumbered open to reveal the generator still suspended in its latticework. The equipment surrounding the generator hummed to life. Coolant started to flow, causing a small stream of fog to cascade off the housing. Seconds later a bright green light came on.
“I have a green light on the generator, sir,” said the weapons officer.
“General, one thing you need to realize. When you activate the generator and destroy the Jerrollite ship, it will still be coming toward us at the same rate of speed, with the same ma
ss as before. Even though it may be microscopic in size, if it hits the ship, it will destroy us as surely as it would have before,” said Bill.
Matheson digested this new information and then nodded his head in acknowledgment. “Helmsman, tie in fire control to your board and lock in a course change to implement at the same time the generator is activated. Bring us hard to starboard.”
The young man’s hands flew over his console, responding to Matheson’s orders. “Yes, sir. Changes locked in, ready on your command.”
Matheson cast a sideways glance at Bill, who simply nodded.
“Do it,” said Bill.
The air was filled with tension, heightened by Matheson as he stood in the center of the bridge coiled like a spring, waiting for the opportune moment to fire the generator. The Jerrollite ship was closing faster and faster, crushing any hopes that the crew may have had about this being a bluff on the part of the Jerrollite commander. The massive alien ship filled the forward view screen, blocking the stars from view.
“Reduce magnification,” said Matheson. The image on the screen reduced in size, allowing them to see more of the alien ship. The crew could see the damage that had been done and were amazed that the alien ship could still function. The general raised his hand as the helmsman poised his finger over the fire control button.
“Wait…wait…” Matheson said, causing everyone on the bridge to cringe, waiting for the inevitable impact. Several crossed themselves, praying for a miracle.
“FIRE!” he roared, dropping his hand and grabbing the rail surrounding the bridge. The helmsman’s fist slammed down onto the fire control.
A screeching hum resounded throughout the ship as a brilliant blue bolt of energy shot out of the cargo bay, danced across the intervening space, and touched the Jerrollite ship. The generator had been set on minimum duration and intensity, creating a black hole that lasted only microseconds, but it was enough. The huge Jerrollite ship’s hull buckled as they watched, collapsing in on itself. Huge plumes of air escaped into the vacuum of space, crystallizing in the deadly cold. As the hull continued to fold up, jets of flame erupted and dissipated, sending bodies and debris spinning off into the void. In a final, brilliant flash, the ship disappeared.
The bridge crew were mute, stunned by what they had just seen. An automatic proximity warning klaxon jolted everyone into action.
“SIR! The course change failed! Collision is imminent!” said the helmsman.
“MANUAL OVERRIDE! PULL UP! PULL UP!” bellowed the general. The helmsman slammed his hand down onto the manual override and jerked the flight control back. The engines screamed in protest as the ship bucked upward. The superstructure began to buckle, causing several panels to explode on the bridge. Showers of sparks and flame shot across the command center. The tiny ball that was once the Jerrollite ship closed on the Hercules with frightening speed. Passing within inches of its hull, the ball hit the left rear engine housing, ripping it free from its mounts and sending it spinning off into the depths of space. Fire erupted from the gaping wound left in the ship.
The ship was jerked violently backward, sending personnel careening into walls and consoles on the bridge.
“What was that?” yelled General Matheson.
“We were struck by the remains of the Jerrollite ship directly on one of our main engine housings, sir.” The crewman gulped as he looked again at his console to verify his readings. “It’s gone, sir. Completely ripped off the ship.”
“Raise containment shields and close all access hatches. Seal off the area completely. Reroute all power to the remaining engines.”
“Yes, sir!” The bridge again burst into a flurry of action as the crew responded to Matheson’s orders.
The flame was snuffed out as the last hatch was sealed, leaving only the scarred and blackened remains of an engine mount. The bridge was dark, the power lost when the engine was destroyed.
“Get me emergency lighting, NOW!” barked the general. A dim blue glow emanated from the lighting panels built into the walls and ceiling. “What’s left?” he asked. Reports came from each crew member on the bridge.
“Communications are okay, sir.”
“Life support is nominal.”
“Hull integrity is ninety percent.”
“Weapons systems are out; engine power is down to sixty percent.”
The general turned around, looking for Bill Johnson amid all the wreckage on the bridge. He found him in a crumpled heap underneath several panels.
“You all right?” he asked.
Bill replied by nodding, which he immediately regretted as it caused a severe jolt of pain through his head. “Ooowwwwww,” he moaned.
The general chuckled and helped him stand. “If you have a headache, at least you’re alive. Get down to sick bay and tend to your wounds.” Bill complied, acknowledging the general with a wave of his hand as he exited the bridge.
Matheson walked to the front of the bridge, standing directly in the center of the view screen. He pulled his familiar cigar from his pocket and placed it in his mouth. Leaning over a console that still had some small flames burning inside, he lit his cigar and patted out the flame. Taking a long drag, he expelled the smoke slowly, savoring the taste of it.
Turning to face his bridge crew, he said, “Well, overall I would have to say we’ve had a pretty lively day!” A grin split his face from side to side. Laughter erupted from the crew—they were still alive to fight another day.
CHAPTER 21
Mark and Johann approached the Hercules cautiously, bringing their ships in slowly. It was floating, powerless, listing to one side with the nose of the ship pointed down at a severe angle. There was a gaping hole to the rear of the ship where one of the engines had been ripped from its mountings. Mark was stunned.
“Johann, we haven’t lost the Hercules, have we?”
“I don’ know, boy. It looks pretty bad from here.” Much to their surprise, their comm links crackled to life.
“Looks can be deceiving, gentlemen. Didn’t your mothers ever teach you not to trust your own eyes?”
“General Matheson! We thought you were dead, sir!” said Mark.
“Give us a moment to get the ship back on its axis, and then you can bring your ships into the main landing bay. See me as soon as you get on board. Matheson out.”
As the comm link went dead, Mark looked out through the cockpit window, giving Johann a thumbs-up. They watched the Hercules began to right itself, turning slowly, leveling off, and stabilizing its attitude by using its maneuvering thrusters. Once the ship was on an even keel, the fires began to go out, extinguished by automatic systems. After a couple of minutes, their comm units once again sprang to life.
“Colonel Hunter, your wing is cleared to land in Bay One.”
“Roger, Control. All ships, descend on my pattern,” Mark said.
The TAC-WING fighters expertly and gracefully entered the landing bay, each ship doing a clean pirouette and coming to rest on the floor. Once they had landed successfully and were secured, the transports followed, landing in the center of the bay. When the last ship had touched down, the crew and pilots erupted in a joyous celebration of hard-won victory. Mark climbed down out of his fighter and made his way through the throng to Johann’s ship. He was just coming down from the cockpit. The grin on his face gave away his feelings.
“How ’bout that cold one now?” said Mark.
“You got it, man,” Johann said, as he shrugged off his flight suit and tossed it back up into the cockpit.
“I really thought my butt was cooked back there. I’m glad you came along when you did, old buddy!”
“No beeg deal, mon. Soombody’s gotta look out for you, right? May as well be me!”
Mark laughed heartily as he clapped Johann on the back, and they left the landing bay together, heading for the bridge.
When Mark and Johann entered the bridge, they were startled by the sheer amount of destruction inside the command center.
“Man, looks worse on the inside than it did on the outside!” said Mark. Johann chuckled.
“If you boys had done any less, or any later, it wouldn’t look this good!” said General Matheson.
“One o’ dem nasty Jerrollite boys got away from us, General. We had to let him go so we could come help out here,” said Johann.
“Where did he go?” asked Matheson.
“He was headed right for the Jerrol-1 star system. My guess would be that he was hightailin’ it for home.”
“Hmm. I guess we’d better be prepared for some more opposition, and soon,” said Matheson, a dark expression crossing his face.
“That’s probably a safe thing to do, sir. We have some time before we have to worry about a counterattack from their home world. I suggest we make use of it by preparing Earth’s defenses and getting this ship repaired,” said Mark.
“I agree, Mark. Comm Officer, tie me into the fleet broadcast channel,” said Matheson.
“Tied in, sir. Ready to transmit.”
Matheson cleared his throat before beginning the address that would be heard over most of the planet. “Earth Command, this is the USS Hercules, General Roy Matheson commanding. The Jerrollite forces have been defeated and are even now being routed from our system. Our foe is vanquished; the enemy’s back is broken.” He paused for dramatic effect before continuing. “However, we must not rest now, as a possibility exists that we will have to face a counterattack in the very near future. We must prepare ourselves for this final confrontation so that we may be ready when called upon once again to defend our freedom. We will be home soon. General Matheson out.” He nodded at the comm officer to sever the link.
Gravitys Hammer Page 15