by Jack Halls
The voice of Itzau filled the cockpit. “All systems functioning properly. We will exit the tunnel in twenty-three minutes. The Maodoni ship will slip out within another minute afterward. No time to run, or hide.”
Tloltan’s eyes closed, and her weathered hands gripped the controls. “We’ll just have to hope everything goes according to plan. You two have your orders, and I know you’ll perform exceptionally. Take this time to prepare yourselves.”
“Yes, Koramoa Tloltan.” Itzau was silent, but hadn’t disconnected the link. “May I say something, Koramoa?” she asked.
“Please do,” answered Tloltan.
Another few moments of silence. “I wanted to say, I am honored that you entrusted me to accompany you, and I’m happy to die for our mission.”
Tloltan grimaced. “The honor is mine, Itzau, but you would make me very happy if you did not die.”
“I will do my best.” This time, the link disconnected. The only sound in the cockpit was the omnipresent hum of the ship. Tloltan continued to grip the controls, eyes shut, while playing out in her mind the possibilities of the impending battle.
A beep interrupted her meditations, followed by Itzau’s voice. “Two minutes, Koramoa Tloltan. We’re ready for them.”
That was a lie, but it didn’t matter. Tloltan wasn’t about to waste energy bemoaning their fate. Once again, her hand gravitated to the stone hanging around her neck. Its familiar weight and texture helped to clear her mind. With a slow, deep breath, she gave the mental signal to her constant companion, and the bracer at her wrist fluttered open in a wave until she was clad in armor once again.
You seem calm. That’s good.
“It’s not our first battle.”
But probably our last.
She smiled. “You’ve said that before, too.”
Usually it was a joke. Something to lighten the mood.
The only answer Tloltan gave was a grunt.
If it means anything to you, I just want to say you’ve been my favorite Koramoa.
“I’m sure you’ve told all of them the same thing.”
Some of them, yes, but that’s only because I hadn’t met you yet.
This elicited a small laugh from Tloltan. The first one in a long time. “Thank you, old friend.”
Itzau’s voice sounded in Tloltan’s ear. “Fifteen seconds.”
Tloltan acknowledged. “That went by too fast.”
“Ready,” said Itzau, “exiting tunnel... now.”
The familiar vibrations coursed through Tloltan’s body as the walls of the cockpit blurred and stretched. When they snapped back into place, a blue planet lay before her on the display, and a warning alarm was going off.
“Possible ship, off our starboard,” Itzau said in a calm voice. In a moment, the anomaly was up on Tloltan’s display. A long cylindrical object, many times larger than their own ship, orbited the planet not far from their position.
It’s a primitive design, one I’ve never seen before. Whatever it is, it’s not Maodoni.
“Ignore it for now,” said Tloltan over the ship wide band. “Focus your attention on the Maodoni ship. Itzau, whatever the cost, you must destroy their quantum drive.”
“Contact,” said Ukte. By the time Tloltan’s display showed the hideous Maodoni ship exiting the tunnel, the first blast from their energy weapons struck the hull. The tiny ship shook under the onslaught but held together.
“Fire, Itzau.”
The order was unnecessary. Itzau’s cannon was already firing at full power with little regard for energy drain. “Direct hit,” she shouted. “Quantum drive should be out now.”
Her voice was drowned out by a catastrophic barrage from the enemy ship. If it weren’t for the restraints, Tloltan would have been thrown from the chair.
“Multiple systems down,” shouted Ukte over the com. “Quantum drive, life support, shield generators. All failing.”
“They’re sending troop ships,” said Itzau. “Multiple transports heading our way.”
Tloltan spun the ship around to present the strongest side to the enemy. “We can’t let them board us. Full power to the cannon. Take them down, Itzau.”
The cannon fired over and over, disintegrating several troop transports. Seconds later, the main Maodoni ship opened fire with renewed violence. The smaller Luzariai ship shuddered and groaned as dozens of alarms sounded.
This battle’s over. Time to leave.
“Right.” Tloltan grunted. “Shut down the cannon. Full power to engines. We’re running.”
“Ukte’s not responding,” said Itzau. “I’ll try to get to the engineering pod and divert the power.”
“Go.” The ship groaned as Tloltan spun away to evade further bombardment. “Come on,” she muttered. “Hold together a little longer.”
Itzau came back over the com. “Diverting power now. Ukte is dead.”
Both sentences were uttered without any emotion, just two more status updates. Tloltan had no time to grieve either as the added power shot them away from their attacker and down toward the planet below.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Battle
THE BRIDGE WAS in full battle mode as Gideon and Takomi raced in. Men and women worked furiously at their screens, making adjustments and rattling off numbers to their superiors. Several officers wore Sentinel Armor, but most were either in uniform or still in their pajamas. The image of the teardrop spaceship dominated the big front screens as the crew worked to analyze the craft. It was a different scene from the one usually witnessed on the bridge, with weapons systems replacing the diagrams of autopod and sewer networks.
In the center of everything stood Admiral Killdeer in his Sentinel Armor, shouting commands and checking reports. “I want every rail gun targeting the spikes. Don’t worry about the main ship right now. Hawkins, where’s that hull material analysis? How many fighter pilots do we have ready to fly? Make sure they’re locked and loaded, but keep them docked until I give the order. Is the biosphere empty yet? I don’t care about the cows, make sure everyone is ready for evac. Where’s my son?”
Someone pointed in their direction, and Admiral Killdeer spun around as Takomi and Gideon jogged up to him. “You two, suit up and get to a starfighter, now. If things get out of hand, I want you to escort the shuttles away from that ship, got it?”
Gideon gave Takomi a frightened look.
“Dad, we’re just cadets.”
“Don’t argue with me, Gid. Fifty percent of the SFs are inoperable because they need Sentinel Armor to fly. I don’t have enough pilots or suits. You two are here, and you’ve got access to the Armor. I’m hoping this ugly bastard isn’t here to start a fight, but if he is, you’ve been trained for this. Now get moving.”
“But Dad...”
“Now, cadet. That’s an order.”
“Yes, sir,” said Gideon.
He and Takomi saluted before they spun around and ran to the elevator. The doors closed, and the elevator car carried them toward the labs at a painfully slow pace. The moment the doors opened, they burst through and sprinted toward the lab doors.
The room where they’d spent hours debugging Sentinel Armor was a circus of activity. Racks of armor lined the walls, divided up by those that were ready and those that hadn’t been cleaned of the virus.
Diana Tsukamoto stood on top of a table in her pajamas, shouting directions to pilots and soldiers.
“No, not that pile, those are no good. You, take that stack over to the hangar now. Takomi, what are you doing here?”
She looked down at the two teenagers as they processed what was going on around them.
Takomi looked up at her mother. “The admiral wants us in a bird.”
“What? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Diana,” shouted Hiro from the corner of the room, where he was handing out suits. “Just give ‘em their suits.”
Diana didn’t look happy, but she pointed toward a rack of armor behind her. “You should be able to find so
me that fit over there. Just be careful.”
They hurried across the room and picked out the armor that would fit them, scrambling to put it on. They didn’t say goodbye as they rushed out of the room and down to the flight deck.
They paused when they reached the hangar that held the starfighters. The SF handler spotted them and waved them over.
“Pilot and gunner?” asked the handler as they bounded up to him.
They nodded.
“Good. Take SF9-6390. Should be warmed up for you. Hopefully you won’t need it.”
Gideon was hoping the same thing as he climbed the ladder and lowered himself into the gunner’s seat. As the SF powered up, Gideon’s visor filled with virtual controls and instruments. As he gripped the weapon’s controls, he felt the familiar shape in his hand, even though it was only being simulated by his ultrasonic gloves,. Seconds later the SF’s ready light came on, the engines warming up with a low hum. The lift lowered the ship into position.
He ran a quick diagnostic, punching virtual buttons as his AI gave him reports. They were in the same squadron with Connor Hallows and Padre Diego, with Commander Devereux as the squadron leader. Gideon noticed there were a lot more SF7s online than there were SF8s or 9s. The newer birds were far superior, but the SF7 had analog controls, and didn’t require Sentinel Armor to pilot it.
“Pauline,” he said, referring to the name his AI had been assigned years before, “show me the alien spacecraft.” A little hologram hovered in front of him, showing part of the Leviathan with the teardrop ship out in front of it. Since they had left the observation deck, the ship had moved over to face the Leviathan a few kilometers away.
The massive antimatter rockets that had towed the Leviathan through the Void had been detached some time ago and put into orbit around Valkyrie farther out, so the Leviathan had only impulse rockets to keep it in orbit. The antimatter rockets were really little more than tugs, and were ineffective at any kind of maneuvering other than going straight forward, so even if they were still attached, they would be of little use. In any case, there was no way the Leviathan was going to outmaneuver the enemy ship.
“Pauline, call Admiral Killdeer.”
Gideon’s AI confirmed the command, and he waited a moment before his father’s voice spoke in his ear.
“What is it, Gid?” said his father in an impatient tone.
“I just thought of something. You can detach the biosphere to increase maneuverability. Turn CENTCOM sideways and give them a smaller target.”
“Gideon, believe it or not, I know what I’m doing. Releasing the biosphere is permanent. I won’t do it until I know these guys mean business. I’m busy here, son. Stay off my com.” The signal went dead.
Frustrated, Gideon called Padre.
“What’s up, Gideon?”
Gideon told him his idea. “He says he won’t do it unless we’re attacked, but it’ll be too late by then.”
“Gideon,” said Padre, “your father is admiral for a reason. He’s the best military commander we have, and we need to trust him. He won’t sacrifice the biosphere unless he has to, but trust me when I say that if it comes to that, he won’t hesitate.”
Gideon protested, but stopped when his father’s voice came over the general band. “This is Admiral Killdeer speaking. As many of you know by now, we have been confronted by what appears to be an alien spacecraft. What I’m asking right now is that we keep our heads and do what we’ve been trained to do. We will not engage the craft unless we’re threatened in some way. However, believe me when I say we are prepared to defend ourselves. Please stand by for orders.”
“Do you think it will attack?” asked Takomi.
“Yes,” said Gideon. He was watching the hologram closely as the alien craft moved laterally to flank them. Even though it was impossible for the Leviathan to counter the maneuver, it actually worked in their favor. To the aliens, the Leviathan would look like a long straight cylinder, with no obvious way of determining vital areas. With any luck, their first shots would be directed at the empty biosphere. It would be an awful sacrifice, but his father could then release the biosphere and return fire from a diminished profile. At this range, the rail guns would be deadly accurate.
The alien ship moved laterally along the length of the biosphere like a carrion bird hovering over a carcass. It slowly moved all the way down to the stern, then started back up again until it paused over the middle of the Leviathan.
“Here it comes,” he whispered to Takomi.
Gideon held his breath as the vessel maintained its position. He dared to hope the aliens wouldn’t attack, but a second later, a violent impact rocked the ship. At the same time, the hologram showed a blast jetting out from the alien craft, striking the biosphere over and over along the hull.
Admiral Killdeer’s voice came over the general band. “Starfighters, engage and begin a flanking maneuver. We are releasing the biosphere in ten seconds. Weapons free.”
Takomi yanked down on the release lever, and the centrifugal force of the spinning ship flung their SF9 out from the Leviathan and into space. Gideon’s stomach lurched in a way that no simulator could duplicate as Takomi maneuvered into position. For the first time in his life, Gideon was outside of the ship, but he didn’t have time to think about it as Takomi spun the SF around, and the alien craft filled his vision. His helmet com crackled, and Devereux’s monotone voice filled his ear.
“Squadron 1, delta formation on my point. We’ll lead the attack around to the side. Aim for the spikes. It looks like that’s where their lightning weapon comes from.”
Takomi hesitated.
“Aren’t you going to follow Devereux?” asked Gideon.
“Your dad told us to escort the shuttles away from the aliens.”
“Do you see any shuttles?”
“Well, no, but I don’t think he meant for us to get in a firefight.”
“He said so himself, we’ve been trained for this. I say we stick with our squadron.”
“Okay,” said Takomi, firing her rockets to comply with Devereux’s order.
As they caught up to their squad, a massive volley from the Leviathan’s rail guns struck the alien ship in dozens of places. There were silent explosions from all over the enemy vessel as several spikes broke off and spun into space. Gideon and Takomi cheered as they watched the counter attack pummel the enemy. He expected the aliens to have some sort of defense against primitive kinetic weapons, but the rail guns seemed to tear the ship to pieces.
The enemy ship returned fire, concentrating on a single point on the biosphere’s hull. Its bolt of energy grew in intensity until the biosphere exploded like a burst fuel tank. Angry shouts came over the general band from dozens of starfighter pilots. Gideon shuddered as he watched the destruction of the only home he ever knew, hoping that everyone had escaped in time. Even if they did, the loss of plant and animal life was devastating. In only a few seconds, his world was gone. He gritted his teeth and focused his attention on the enemy ship.
As promised, CENTCOM had broken free of the biosphere before the explosion. Now it unleashed a furious volley as the first of the starfighters engaged the enemy. Takomi manipulated the controls with a precision that Gideon could only dream about and came into formation behind Devereux and Padre.
Gideon locked on and took his first shots at the enemy ship. The squadron banked hard around the back of the vessel, firing round after round, each one resulting in a satisfying explosion. Gideon looked up to see hundreds of starfighters coming in to strafe the ship. CENTCOM continued blasting the enemy with its massive rail guns, each round a two-ton titanium rod that shot out of an electromagnetic accelerator at over three thousand meters per second. With that kind of inertia, no chemical explosives were necessary.
Despite the devastation, the alien ship held together. It returned fire with deadly results, and starfighters that were too slow to avoid its energy weapon disintegrated in a flash of blue light. The aliens targeted CENTCOM’s rail guns an
d took them out one by one. It was a race to see which side could neutralize the other’s weapons systems first, then it would be over for the loser.
Takomi banked in close to the ship. “We’re in over our heads. This thing is ripping us apart.”
“You’re too close,” shouted Gideon. “I’m having a hard time targeting from this distance.”
“That goes both ways.”
Other starfighters picked up on Takomi’s tactic and followed her in a small delta formation. Connor’s voice came in over the intercom.
“Good thinking, Takomi. Let’s fan out so that we’re side by side and have our gunnies blast at the spikes behind us. That way we won’t need to dodge debris.”
“Sounds good,” said Takomi. “Gideon, you got that?”
“Got it.”
Gideon’s pod swiveled around so that he was upside-down and backwards. Without any starfighters behind them to worry about, he fired in rapid succession. With no moving parts, the rail guns fired off thousands of rounds per minute. Gideon kept it to short bursts to avoid overheating the conductors and to conserve ammunition.
Admiral Killdeer’s voice came in over the common band again.
“CENTCOM’s taken too much damage and can’t hold out much longer. I’ve ordered a full evacuation. I’ll need starfighters to protect the shuttles as best they can. Devereux, regroup and organize squadrons to draw enemy fire. I’ve reprogrammed the orbit of the antimatter rockets on a collision course with the enemy ship in T minus seven minutes. As soon as those shuttles are out of range, I want all starfighters to head for the surface as well.”
Shuttles emerged from CENTCOM even before Admiral Killdeer finished speaking. Devereux came online and assigned squadrons, giving them their orders.
Takomi had just changed course when a bolt of lightning leapt from the alien spacecraft and incinerated one of the shuttles. There was an outcry over the SF band as starfighters peeled away from their formations and took up position between the aliens and the remaining shuttles.
Gideon tried not to think about who might have been aboard as Takomi pulled back hard on the controls and rocketed away from the ship at a ninety-degree angle. Before Gideon could catch his breath, she changed trajectory again and pulled the SF9 into a path perpendicular to their previous route.