Scum of the Universe (Fire and Rust Book 7)

by Anthony James

  When the lowest of the three lifts came to the bottom, its cargo of naked Raggers headed directly for the door adjacent to the soldiers.

  “Move that way and wait,” said Conway, directing the squad further away. “Lieutenant Atomar, come with me.”

  Conway walked towards the central structure, intending to get behind the approaching enemy and see what was through the door. The Raggers didn’t pay him or Lieutenant Atomar any attention and walked by. They halted long enough for one of the front aliens to activate the panel and then they went inside. The door closed.

  “What did you see?” asked Freeman.

  “A corridor,” said Conway. He replayed the ten-second recording he’d taken with his helmet sensor. “It opens into a larger space beyond that.” There was something else as well – something bad. He watched the recording again.

  “Lieutenant Atomar, you’re taller than me. Did you see what I thought I saw?”

  “I saw a room filled with Raggers. Row upon row of them, facing the doorway.”

  “That’s what I thought,” said Conway.

  “We should consider exploring elsewhere.”

  “We will.”

  Lieutenant Atomar gave a growling laugh. “Through every door we will find the same thing.”

  Conway laughed too. Not at the situation, but at the shared experiences of two combat veterans. “Of course we will. Let’s go check it out.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Having launched the first salvo, it appeared for a short time like the Raggers had the upper hand. Their railguns pulverized a dozen of the Hantisar warships, as well as a couple of the ULAF warships. The ULS Defiant made an excellent target, which is why Stone had placed it strategically, with other members of his fleet blocking line-of-sight projectiles such as those fired from a railgun.

  Consequently, the carrier was left undamaged, though many hundreds of missiles remained inbound.

  An inexperienced officer might have looked at the quantity of green specks on the tactical display and found himself or herself beset by images of warheads racing through space. Thoughts of death and white-hot explosions might have intruded upon logical, dispassionate decision making.

  Not for Stone. He was Fleet Admiral not only because he had an expansive mind that could envision independent strategies across a dozen worlds, involving millions of troops and thousands of spaceships, but also because he had, in the past, been one of the ULAF’s most skillful and successful warship captains. For Stone, those greens dots were a challenge to overcome.

  The updates came like a hurricane and, rather than allowing them to sweep him away, Stone became the eye of the storm, prioritizing and acting upon the events as they swirled around. It made him feel alive – like he was twenty years old again.

  “The enemy ships have activated stealth, sir. Battle network updating.”

  “We’ve launched our own missiles, sir. ULAF railgun slugs on their way. Hantisar tharniol gauss repeaters locked and unloading. Holy crap!”

  “Vipers one through six have left the bay.”

  “The unauthorized transmission from our hull is now blocked. We have no way to determine what it contained.”

  “It was our data. The Raggers teleported onboard to steal it. Someone check for a security breach on our databanks.”

  “On it, sir.”

  “Looks like we’re a priority target, Admiral,” said Commander Blackwood. “Got fifteen, maybe twenty of their fleet trying to get line of sight on us. Heavy cruisers.”

  “Order the Lodross, Piety and Vanquisher to change position and make it difficult for them. Let’s take advantage of the enemy’s eagerness. Commander Blackwood, pilot us deeper into our formation – try and suck those bastards in after us.”

  The Defiant’s massive propulsion thundered far below the bridge - not enough to drown out the continuous boom of the carrier’s armaments, but enough that the crew were forced to raise their voices. The life support kept things stable, but Stone detected the stresses running through the fabric of the ship.

  “Who’s got their eyes on those two Ragger motherships?” he said. “I want pressure on them. See how much Riviss-Uld can take.”

  “They’re hanging back and executing randomized evasive maneuvers. So far we’ve only detected missile launches from those warships. No sign of their chain guns or anything else.”

  “We lost the Silver Mace and the Judgement. Too much going on to nail down the enemy losses yet.”

  “Our first missile wave is approaching its targets. There go the enemy interceptors.”

  “Shit, those gauss repeaters are chewing the Ragger ships to pieces.”

  “Firing upper and lower railguns 1 and 2. Three hits, one kill.”

  “First wave of missiles have reached their targets. Kills unknown.”

  “Next wave in flight.”

  Stone kept half of his attention on the tactical, which was running sluggishly from the quantity of targets it was tracking. A good captain could sense the ebb and flow simply by watching the movements of the dots and the ever-changing distance, speed and heading overlays. With so much happening, he switched off missile tracking on his console in order to avoid the distraction. The moment he turned off the overlay, everything ran smoothly.

  “They’re attempting to envelop us,” he said, more to himself but loudly enough for Commander Blackwood to hear. “To attack us from every side.”

  “Those tactics belong in the middle-ages, sir - not in the 26th Century. Once they expose their flanks, we’ll fill them full of craters.”

  “They’ve got the numbers, Commander.”

  “Vipers seven through fifteen have left the bay.”

  A faraway crash sent a vibration running through the walls.

  “One successful railgun hit on our upper midsection, sir. Looks like a deflection. No hull breach.”

  “I want an update from our security teams. We’ve got Raggers somewhere onboard.”

  “The bridge approach is reinforced, sir. Other squads are sweeping the mid-decks. Do you have any orders to give?”

  “Leave it to Captain Vince. He knows what he’s doing – that’s why I picked him for this mission.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  While the tactical was the most effective tool for a warship captain, it was the sensor feeds which portrayed the visceral nature of space combat. The sensor team had their work cut out watching the enemy fleet and supporting the other officers in detecting patterns and targets. Kill counting was part of it and the sensor feeds – the Defiant had many arrays and many screens – jumped constantly from ship to ship.

  A Ragger heavy cruiser vanished in a flash of white. The feed switched in time for Stone to catch sight of an enemy light cruiser being ripped apart by a fusillade of smaller projectiles. This was the first time he’d seen the Hantisar tharniol gauss repeaters in action and it almost took his breath away.

  Once again the feeds changed. Another Ragger heavy cruiser was pummeled by gauss projectiles. The spaceship’s armor resisted for less than five seconds before it crumpled like paper. Sections of plating were smashed clear, exposing the inner workings of the vessel. Next moment, it seemed like the cruiser was turned into a thousand glittering pieces of debris.

  Other Ragger ships put up far less resistance. A second heavy cruiser simply vanished from the feed, becoming a fleeting cloud of grey that disappeared in a split second.

  “Dark cannon,” he said. The sight was both awe-inspiring and terrifying at once. A technology that could turn an entire ship to dust yet couldn’t save its inventors from the Sekar.

  Everywhere Stone looked, he saw examples of Ragger ships being destroyed by the weapons aimed towards them. Denied the advantage of their stealth technology, the Ragger ships weren’t even as tough as their ULAF equivalent. Right now, they had numbers and Riviss-Uld-95 evidently hoped that would see him to victory.

  “There go the last of our Vipers, sir.”

  “What’s happening with those moth
erships?” asked Stone.

  “Same randomized pattern as before.”

  “Why so important, sir?” asked Dyer. “They might be big, but there’re only two of them.”

  “Riviss-Uld-95 is on one and it’s highly likely a different first echelon Ragger is on the other. The activity of those ships will tell us exactly what’s going through our enemy’s mind.”

  “They’re going nowhere,” said Dyer, catching on.

  “Which means our enemy believes he has a chance of winning.”

  “As soon as he runs, we’ve won.”

  “Or pushed him so far that he won’t risk his miserable hide any longer.”

  Dyer didn’t ask any more questions, though his face indicated he had many to ask. He backed away and let Stone get on with it.

  “Admiral Isental is on the comms, sir.”

  “Bring him in.”

  “The Hantisar knew how to build!” The Fangrin sounded invigorated. “The Avatar’s weapons inspire fear in our enemy.” He lowered his voice in what might have been meant as a conspiratorial whisper. “And in me also.”

  “What can I do for you, Admiral?”

  “Our battleships are equipped with large-yield tharniol explosive devices mounted upon their own propulsion sections. I would like to deploy these devices.”

  “You read Captain Griffin’s report. Too much tharniol in one place might open a Sekar rift.”

  “If we back away from using them now, when will we dare experiment?”

  “I get your point, Admiral. Hold for the moment.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Stone thought he detected a note of reproach in the word. The Fangrin had always possessed a warlike edge that maybe humans hadn’t developed to the same extent and Isental was known for his love of combat.

  The Fangrin left the comms channel without saying anything else and Stone directed his attention to the events happening around him. A glance at the tactical told him the Raggers had lost thirty additional warships in the time it had taken him to speak with Isental. The number shocked Stone and it jumped by another four in front of his eyes. Then, three more.

  He tuned in once again to the bridge activity. The crew were right in the zone, he could see it from the expressions on their faces. Everything spoken was clear and somehow without interruption, like the chaos of the engagement was being forced against its will into a state of absolute order.

  “Railguns fired. Full countermeasures active. Incoming missiles destroyed.”

  “Got another breakaway enemy group, sir. This time it’s a big one.”

  “Highlight them on the tactical.”

  “Done.”

  Stone watched the enemy ships – eighty-five in total – accelerate straight towards what he thought of as his own fleet’s frontline.

  “Coming for the Defiant,” he said. “Means we’ve pissed Riviss-Uld off.”

  “Orders, sir?”

  “Every one of our spaceships to focus that sub-fleet if they can do so without endangering themselves.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Stone clapped his hands together once and bared his teeth. “Let’s see if we can push our enemy into doing something he might regret.”

  The Defiant suffered a second railgun strike, which opened a breach on one of the upper decks. The carrier’s internal containment systems sealed off the area in moments.

  “Casualties unknown, sir.”

  A moment later:

  “A missile got through our countermeasures, sir.”

  Stone waited for the impact. It didn’t come and he assumed the enemy warhead got shot down at the last moment.

  “That sub-fleet isn’t holding back, sir. Our countermeasures aren’t able to cope with what’s coming our way.”

  “I’m doing what I can to get us clear,” said Commander Blackwood.

  Stone knew it – the carrier’s engines were grumbling and he could feel the lateral forces of the spaceship banking hard.

  “We’re relying on our fleet to keep us safe,” he said. He reached out and turned on the missile overlay again. The screen filled with green dots and the updates became jerky. Larger dots representing his own fleet flickered and disappeared, before reappearing elsewhere. More green dots appeared – so many that the tactical screen juddered and briefly ground to a complete halt before it resumed, this time flickering like a faulty TV. Stone’s brain imagined patterns and he blinked to clear his vision.

  The inbound wave of enemy missiles was taken out and another wave came after. The eight-five enemy ships targeting the Defiant became sixty ships and then forty. Against the Hantisar dark cannons, the Raggers had no defense and the fleet Stone commanded was faster, more agile and better armed.

  The Defiant suffered two more railgun strikes, neither resulting in a breach. The tightly packed missiles raced in, the waves thinning rapidly as they met the allied interceptors and chain gun fire. Commander Blackwood banked the ship again and then threw the nose downwards.

  “Missile wave cleared, next one inbound.”

  For an instant, Stone’s mind understood the pattern of the enemy ships and how they were clustered too densely as they tried to forge a path towards the Defiant.

  “Get me Admiral Isental.”

  “Got him, sir.”

  “Admiral, now’s the time to test those explosives. Hit that sub-fleet.”

  “Consider it done.”

  Ten seconds later, the explosion came. Isental must have been waiting for the order, Stone reflected, since there was no way in hell he could have targeted and ordered the launch in less than two seconds, the other eight seconds being made up from the warhead’s travel time.

  A vast area of space turned a sheer, brilliant white, the blast expanding so quickly that it must have verged on lightspeed. The whiteness lasted less than a second and then became black-flecked from the tharniol accelerant in the device.

  A third of the bridge screens abruptly went blank and then lit up again, this time with static.

  “Failure on the forward sensor feeds. Attempting to re-establish.”

  The retrofitted Hantisar arrays stayed online and Stone kept his eyes glued to the vision they showed of annihilation.

  Having reached its peak diameter of twenty thousand klicks, the blast receded quickly, shrinking and fading at the same time until it left only the memory. The twenty-six Ragger ships which had been caught in the flames were likewise gone, leaving not a trace they had ever existed.

  “Scan for Sekar rifts,” ordered Stone, his voice distant in his ears.

  A second blast, then a third and a fourth went off amongst the Ragger fleet. Then came more – many more - flooding this part of Indul-L9 with a brightness to rival the sun. Belatedly, Stone wondered if he should have limited his orders to a single launch of the tharniol explosives. Then anger came, reminding him of what Riviss-Uld-95 had done.

  “Order a hold on those explosives,” Stone said. “No more until I say otherwise.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Upper arrays two, three and six have rebooted and are back online.”

  “Get me a status update. We should still be receiving battle network updates. And where are those motherships?”

  “Waiting for confirmation on the numbers, sir.” The disbelief in Lieutenant Roden’s voice told the story. “Early indications are we’ve knocked out half of their remaining fleet.”

  “And the motherships?”

  “Those enemy ships have ended evasive maneuvers and are accelerating in a straight line away from us.”

  “Leaving everyone else behind to act as a screen,” said Commander Blackwood.

  “It’s the Ragger way.”

  In fact, Blackwood’s evaluation was wrong. The Ragger fleet only stuck around long enough to give the motherships a head start and ensure they had plenty of time to reach maximum sublight velocity, after which they’d be effectively impossible to catch.

  “Should we give chase, sir?”

  More than any
thing, Stone wanted to single out Riviss-Uld-95 for special treatment, but it wasn’t the right thing to do. “Don’t waste time on the motherships – order the other ships in our fleet to blow as many of the remaining enemy to pieces as they can, without getting carried away. We’ve lost enough today.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Stone allowed the pursuit to continue for thirty minutes before he called it off. Both motherships escaped. By the time the allied fleet regrouped, he had an accurate count of the numbers and it didn’t make good reading – not for Riviss-Uld-95 at least.

  “Enemy losses: 378. Allied losses: 56. We kicked their asses, sir,” said Commander Blackwood.

  “We did,” said Stone, nodding thoughtfully. “Except they got what they came for.”

  “Tricked us with a teleport-equipped spaceship,” said Captain Dyer.

  “You live and you learn.”

  “Captain Vince reports an engagement with a limited force of Ragger soldiers, sir. The enemy are equipped with stealth suits – they’re going to take a lot of flushing out.”

  “Tell Captain Vince to do what he has to. Have we finished that audit on our databanks?”

  “Uh, no sir. It’s been a little busy. I’ll get on it right away.”

  “The Raggers came hunting technical data and I want to know exactly what they found.” Stone moved on to the next item on his list. “Begin scanning the wreckage. We’ve got two recovery shuttles in our secondary bay. If there’s a salvageable stealth module anywhere amongst this debris, we’re bringing it home with us.”

  “On it, sir.”

  “What happens next?” asked Commander Blackwood.

  “Then, we go home.”

  “You look worried, sir.”

  “I am.”

  Three hours later, the Defiant’s secondary bay held two seemingly intact stealth modules. Stone watched the recovery vessels haul them in. For all their importance, the modules weren’t too big and they didn’t look like much – cylinders with huge ports for the power supply to connect.