AmerIndian 2192

by J. Scott Garibay

CHAPTER 18

  The tribals overcame their shock quickly. Tribals on every lodge ship burst into motion exiting the gathering halls. Tribals headed toward their specific battle stations.

  Thin gaps circled the platform Wovoka was standing on. Without hesitation, the Elders stepped forward, circling around him. Wovoka saw Keokuk a few meters away and motioned him forward. Keokuk followed onto the platform. John gave a command and the platform began to descend.

  Wovoka looked and realized Cavaho and Wolf Plume would be left behind. A mellow electronic bink rang out as the platform dropped through the corresponding hole in the deck floor below. The platform wobbled slightly as Cavaho dropped from four meters above onto the falling platform. He bent at the knees with the impact, steadying himself between Kugan and Morgan Weaver. He stood twenty centimeters from the edge of the platform and stared ahead nonchalantly. The Elders stared at him.

  Nineteen decks passed and the platform stopped. The Elders dispersed to five command stations spaced throughout the bridge. Dozens of tribals monitoring various aspects of the impending battle occupied the bridge. Wovoka, Keokuk and Cavaho remained on the platform in the middle of the bridge.

  Stormseeker finger tapped. “Tally on fighter scramble.”

  A thin, busy tribal answered. “Eighteen percent, another eighty seconds before full pattern deployment.”

  Wovoka looked at Keokuk. “What am I doing here?”

  Keokuk looked around. “If you are White Buffalo you are supposed to be commanding this.”

  “I don't know how to command a fleet battle.”

  Keokuk rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Despite the fact that Wovoka was in the center of the room, no one was paying any attention to him.

  “Fighter scramble complete,” the tactical tribal said. “Wave One release on Ten, mark now.”

  Keokuk looked at Wovoka. “Have them cancel that order. Belay the fighter release. Have the Gator dump the correspondence code for all lodge ships and go to Delta Star, delay twelve.” Keokuk finger tapped. “Your comp set is now on command band. Everyone's listening.”

  Wovoka hesitated and then commanded, “Belay fighter release. Gator, dump the correspondence code for all lodge ships and go to Delta Star, delay twelve.” Wovoka echoed Keokuk's words.

  The bustle of activity on the bridge stopped and all eyes turned to Wovoka.

  Stormseeker was out of his chair and walking fast across the bridge toward Wovoka. “That's enough of this drek, soldier. We have seconds to move hundreds of thousands of tribals. Do not test proper command. Tactical tribals, execute my orders. Now, I am going to personally pry your ass out of that sacred armor.”

  Stormseeker grabbed at Wovoka's body tank. Wovoka stood motionless. He could not raise a hand to Stormseeker, his commander since he was twelve. In a flash of movement Cavaho was at Wovoka's side. He grabbed Stormseeker's hand and in what looked like a dance move, ducked, pivoted and twisted. When it was done, Stormseeker was kneeling in front of Cavaho with his arm twisted a centimeter away from the snap of bone.

  Celetain stood. “Elder Stormseeker is right. We have seconds to move four hundred thousand tribals; there is no time to test proper command. Execute the commands of the White Buffalo.”

  Over the comp sets the main tactical tribal’s voice was clear. “Fighters sit tight. Gator, dump the correspondence code for all lodge ships and go to Delta Star, delay twelve.”

  Wovoka looked down at Stormseeker.

  “Yes,” Stormseeker said plainly.

  Cavaho released the Elder Warrior and helped him to his feet.

  Stormseeker glared. No one on the bridge moved.

  “We are going to have to shut down life support temporarily. The guns will have to be as hot as possible if there is going to be engagement, White Buffalo.” Stormseeker broke the silence.

  Wovoka smiled. “All tribals strap on one hour masks. Lodge ships go dry directly after we pass through the correspondence planes.”

  The bridge became a flurry of activity as each pack member put into action the procedures they had practiced a hundred times, orchestrating the movement of a well-oiled war machine. Each knew exactly what Wovoka had ordered and what it would mean. The tribals steeled themselves to weather the approaching storm.

  The UDA Situation Officer reported. “Hellfire, triple set, go in 210 seconds. Flanking ships in position. Slow movement from all lodge ships consistent with preparation for a quick correspondence jump. AC outrider ships are staying close, no interference being run. Fighters are being held in.”

  Lige stepped back, “They want to minimize damages. Outrider ships are being held close to run as blockers for lodge ships. Remove all outrider ships as targets from the firing solutions, target lodge ships only.”

  It was a gamble. Lige was ordering all of his comp operators to adjust the weapon firing comps so they would not acknowledge any outrider ship or fighter as a target or an aggressor. Normally, the weapons firing comps constantly tracked all targets in range and fed information to the ship's servers to be ready to take fire on any target in range at any instant. Now, following Lige's orders, all of the comp's targeting power would be put on the lodge ships. Unless a UDA ship’s gun was manually overridden not a single AmerIndian Confederacy outrider ship or fighter would be fired on by any of Lige's ships.

  The entire AmerIndian Confederacy fleet was crawling forward at 10 K.P.H. toward the UDA fleet. Lige understood this tactic. The slow pace ensured the ships were moving and it would only take a bump of speed to send them through the correspondence planes their comps were now calculating. Lige's ships were moving toward the Confederacy convoy in order to use their forward guns and not expose a flank. The lodge ships were now spreading out to a ten-kilometer span.

  The Hellfire system sent raw waves of energy from three cooperating ships to a collector-amplifier spaced an equal distance from each of the three ships. After 180 seconds, a wave of energy, 80 kilometers in diameter and a kilometer long, was released. The Hellfire energy wave could bore a hole through Earth's moon. It would turn a lodge ship into fine dust.

  “Do we have a mark on the Brule lodge ship?” Lige asked.

  “Negative, Admiral, target is random, twenty seconds to release.”

  Unlike the inside of the lodge ships, which clearly identified the occupying tribe, all AmerIndian Confederacy lodge ship exteriors were painted matt black to confuse the enemy as to which lodge ship housed which tribe. The AmerIndian Confederacy tactical tribals knew that Hellfire could be a deadly weapon not only because of the sheer number of tribals that could be swept away instantly, three Confederacy tribes had only one lodge ship. A hit on the singular Brule, Haida or Zuni lodge ship could destroy ninety percent of the tribe (only crossworkers on other lodge ships surviving). If the majority of one tribe were wiped out it would leave the AmerIndian Confederacy severely crippled due to the tribe’s specialization that was lost.

  Lige frowned. He had his best comp officers searching for any clue in movement, placement of lights on the lodge ships' hulls, anything to discern lodge ships belonging to single lodge ship tribes.

  One of his comp officers reported back, “Hellfire Release is ready Admiral. But there is no confirmation on the single tribe lodge ships. New target?”

  “No. Keep primed. Be ready to fire on my mark.”

  The five Elders watched the emerging battle ground on their comp sets. A tactical tribal barked. “Sector nine grid.”

  One section of the comp set view expanded and showed three small points of light. With finger taps the tactical tribal increased the magnification until the ships could be seen clearly.

  “Hellfire formation. Three groups all focused on the convoy at ten klick intervals. Only one set of our deflector ships is out.”

  Wovoka's instinct was to order another set of deflector ship out.

  Keokuk stepped close to Wovoka. “Order all the single tribe lodge ships into single file line. Heidegger, Cold Pyre and Tal
isman. Put them all in one line facing the UDA ships. Have the deflector ships tighten their arc and prepare to send back the beam straight as an arrow right down all three Hellfire sets. The trajectory is where the three sets of UDA Hellfire ships line up.”

  Wovoka's instincts screamed. He could be sending thousands of tribals to their deaths. He also knew from his service as an Infiltrator that hesitation could be more deadly in combat than a critical mistake. Wovoka shouted the order. He was amazed. No one questioned and the lodge ships began to line up immediately. The five deflector ship set could now be seen in position.

  Wovoka asked Keokuk, “Patch me through to the Alpha of that deflector ship group.” The link was made in seconds. “Lightbringer, the UDA Hellfire ship sets are lined up like dominoes. Can you send the Hellfire beam straight back down the pipe.”

  Lightbringer, the deflector ship captain replied, “Tighter I get the grid the more control I have on where the beam is sent back. Keeping my pack safe I say I have a fifty/fifty chance of sending the Hellfire beam right back down the pipe… White Buffalo.”

  There had been a distinct delay but Wovoka noticed the title had been added nonetheless. Keokuk raised a finger. “Command maximum effort, tell him to send the beam back down the pipe without fail.”

  Wovoka shook his head. “Do your best, Lightbringer.”

 

  “Admiral Lige, By size and sensor data most likely all three of those ships are single tribe targets. It's Haida, Brule and Zuni. Current Brule target is locked.”

  “Pull all Hellfire sets around to resolve for the single line target.”

  The UDA situation officer hesitated, “The trajectory of the three Hellfire sets gives the deflector ship a definite line. Possibility of a direct aim back is sixty-two percent.”

  “Thank you comp officer. Pull all Hellfire sets around to resolve for the single line target.”

  The UDA situation officer gave the order. “Single line firing solution at 120 seconds.”

  Wovoka stood quiet. It was all in the hands of the deflector ships now. Stormseeker looked at Wovoka.

  “White Buffalo, those Hellfire sets can break away at any second. Can we send predator torps their way?”

  Keokuk whispered, “No.”

  Wovoka commanded again. “Hold line. All ships, hold line.”

  Lige licked his lips, “On my mark, group one. Fire.”

  Wovoka watched as the crackle of energy arced from each Hellfire ship toward the collector magnifier. “Ignition, hold line,” Wovoka shouted. “Hold line.”

  The deflector ships adjusted and the cable between the ships pulled taught. A huge reflective sheet of molecule thin gold exploded taut between the ships.

  The Hellfire collector from the first Hellfire ship set popped, a streak of blue fire blasted forward growing to its eight-kilometer diameter. The blast hit the sheet square. For an instant it appeared the blast was still, until it folded on itself and shot back from the sheet. Like an arrow splitting another arrow, the beam ate all nine Hellfire ships. The sheet of gold blazed on both sides and all five deflector ships were caught in the terrible heat. The ships melted, transforming instantly into hunks of sulfurous metal.

  A roar of celebration rose on AmerIndian Confederacy bridge.

  Wovoka barked, “We have five AmerIndian Confederacy ships destroyed. Everyone back to station immediately.”

  The bridge snapped back to efficiency.

  “Nine Goliath class UDA prime ships destroyed. Terminal engagement in three minutes, ten seconds. Correspondence plane go time five minutes twenty-five seconds…” A brilliant flash on comp sets interrupted the tactical tribal’s words.

  Wovoka gaped. One of Lige's fleet ships was firing into Lige’s command ship, Black Mariah. Bright straight flashes Wovoka recognized as Magog heavy lasers blasted into the command ship, hitting it dead center. The attacking UDA ship was boring a hole to the Lige’s bridge at the center.

  Keokuk was already speaking. “Launch a wave of trackers. They are going to do a correspondence jump.”

  Wovoka barked again, “It isn't a fire works display, tribals. Launch a battery of trackers.”

  Black Mariah's bridge rocked with the force of the Magog heavy lasers. Havoc reigned. Four UDA officers simultaneously sent messages over the communications link before the senior officer hit his override.

  “Twenty-six decks holed, eighteen percent power loss, firing comp damage. Navcomp untouched.”

  Lige stood still. His rage bubbled up as he struggled to keep control. The fate of his fleet rested in his ability to react rationally. The AmerIndian Confederacy had dealt him a knockout blow. This battle was over. Mutiny was blooming and his only hope was to pick up the pieces and rally.

  Lige patched himself into every ship's main communications link. “Gold fleet, this is Admiral Lige. I am now declaring emergency procedure Beta Chi. Every ship's captain is temporarily stripped of authority. First officer, please accept the captain's firearm. All ships are ordered to strip all comp processing from all non-essential functions including firing solutions and direct primary shields at the AmerIndian Confederacy. We are in full retreat. Ships are commanded not to fire on Hoover. Hoover, I advise you stop firing now and start running. You are going to need every centimeter of distance you can put between you and me. I promise I will see every man on Hoover dead before next Veteran's day.”

  Jaret stepped onto the dais. “What can I do, sir?”

  Lige exhaled. “Don't become an Admiral.”

  Wovoka tried as he could to shout the celebrations down, to get people back to their stations but tribals were standing on chairs, spinning, dancing and rejoicing as over nine hundred UDA prime ships retreated.

  Wovoka stopped shouting and looked at Keokuk. His brother wore a pleased, guilty smile. “The Steel Circle has to be moved and I can not think of a destination. The second those UDA ships fire their Kellion Cannons and jump the battle is done and the Elders are calling the shots again.”

  Wovoka looked around. All across the bridge tribals were celebrating. In front of Elder Kugan's podium three tribals were lined up. A pretty tribal aimed her finger at them and the three fell down like dominoes. Even Morgan Weaver laughed hysterically.

  Wovoka gave everyone another thirty seconds and then barked an order the same way he did when his three Infiltrators were following him through the obstacle course on Deck 176. “On line.” The blood had already started to flow and it could be a long hard time before it stopped. “Calculate correspondence data to Naanac with every lodge and outrider ships' navcomp. Release Silhouette and twenty other outrider ships in pursuit of the renegade UDA prime ship. Mission is recruitment of the men who attacked Lige.”

  Packs hustled to get back to their seats and work resumed. The next few minutes were spent in unnecessary attempts to tweak the lodge ships defenses in case the UDA ships turned. They did not. Twenty seconds before the UDA prime ships fired their correspondence planes the trackers carved into the UDA prime ships.

  The second the UDA ships winked out of view Stormseeker was out of his chair and heading back to Wovoka. “Battle's over, boy, and that means you are back to being nothing more than a soldier. And that's why I can now,” Stormseeker stopped just inside striking distance, “do this.” Stormseeker embraced Wovoka. “Now that was a ‘to the bottom of the mag whuppin'. We have a two-hour window at least. The Elder Council obviously has to meet. I want you and your pack out of sight during that time.”

  Stormseeker turned from Wovoka and caught sight of Cavaho. “You like beatin' old dogs, pup?” There was no smile in Stormseeker's voice.

  Cavaho cocked his head and pointed right at his chin. Stormseeker's fist rocketed out and Cavaho sprawled across the floor. He rose with blood spilling out of his mouth. No smile, no expression. He cocked his chin in the other direction and pointed again. Stormseeker shook his head and clapped his hand on Cavaho's shoulder. “Good soldier.” Stormseeker turned an
d headed to where the other Elders were exiting the room.

  Sliver, Celetain Prax's aid, approached Keokuk, Wovoka and Cavaho. “This way.” Sliver led them out opposite the exit used by the Elders. The crash doors rolled open and a throng of tribals poured in from the hall. Sliver wasted no time and directed Keokuk, Wovoka and Cavaho back through another door. The tactical tribals held back the crowd.

  Keokuk marveled. He hadn't seen tribals react like this since the AmerIndian Confederacy hosted Concrete Reams, a rock group from the Carina Local Cluster. In a few moments Sliver led the three into a large lounging room. It was obviously the design work of an over-ambitious Diegueño. Beautiful, large couches formed a square near the center of the room. The room was designed to look like an eighteenth century log cabin.

  Keokuk wanted to flop onto the plush leather couch but he nixed the urge and helped Cavaho get Wovoka out of the Founder's armor. The armor cracked open like a shell and Wovoka stepped out. He shook his limbs to get rid of the rigid tension in his shoulders and thighs. Wovoka fell back onto the couch and put his hands over his eyes. Keokuk looked over at Cavaho who had the body tank at the far end of the couch. Cavaho rubbed his jaw in obvious pain and Keokuk found a new level of respect for Stormseeker. Sliver brought each of them a large tumbler of sparkling water. Keokuk drank and for a moment enjoyed the comfortable quiet that surrounded them.