by Daniel Gibbs
"At the same time, we need to get to their data cores before they wipe them completely," al-Lahim said. "I doubt they're near each other."
"Well, we're not alone in this," Felix pointed out. “The Trinidaders are going for the engineering spaces already. So which way should we go?"
"The data cores," suggested Caetano. "They contain what we need to stop the League. The station itself is a secondary objective. If we transmit the data to the fleet, we win."
"And possibly get blown up," Yanik noted.
"Yes." Caetano shrugged. "But I'm willing to die to save my homeworld, Mister S'srish. I suspect you're as much a being of duty as I am."
Yanik appraised her quietly. "Your point, it is proper. We will devote ourselves to recovering the data, then."
Their trip down the shaft soon led them to where the other teams were crouched behind cover. One of them, a Cyrilgrad native, motioned to the group. He spoke entirely in Russian and stopped when he didn't see immediate recognition. Miri replied in the same language and prompted him to continue. When he was finished, she said, "He says they're in a strong position ahead, and his people are waiting for a heavy weapon squad."
"Tell his people to be ready," Yanik said. He pulled his heavy plasma gun from his shoulder. The Cyrilgrad man stared in surprise at it while Miri spoke in Russian, relaying Yanik's remark. The man started barking to the others in the same language while Yanik moved ahead.
The Leaguers were holding a bulkhead section in the passageway. Small deflector stands provided them additional protection, and they had rifles up and firing. Already, four fallen boarders spanned the area between the two sections. Their fire was sporadic, meant to harass and suppress.
Yanik brought his weapon up and triggered it. The barrels at the front started rotating, spewing yellow-tinged plasma downrange at the enemy position. The lack of atmosphere meant there were no screams or shouts, but from the chaotic return fire and the distant flaring of material being sheared by powerful plasma blasts, it was clear Yanik's weapon was ripping through the Leaguers.
The leader of the Cyrilgrad unit shouted something, and with a resounding "Urraaah!", his troopers shot forward, sticking to the sides of the tube to avoid Yanik's barrage.
Yanik ceased firing only when it was clear that maintaining the fire would endanger their allies. He lowered his weapon and turned to the others. "The way is clear," he said. "We should proceed."
"Yanik." Felix stared at him. "You…"
Yanik glanced down. His suit was burnt open in three places. Blood leaked from one of the wounds, the other two being cauterized automatically by the weapons in question. One of the cauterized wounds was over his belly. "Yes, it hurts," he confirmed. "But my suit protected me from the worst. Now let's go." Without further comment, he turned and continued walking.
The others followed.
21
Dueling with fighters armed for anti-ship combat was easier with another fighter rather than a ship. Small craft were maneuverable enough to avoid missiles ships couldn’t easily defeat. Electronic spoofing and point-defense fire were the standard defense against such platforms. There were, in fact, picket ships designed solely for such warfare in various space fleets.
The Shadow Wolf didn't have the luxury of such hardware. It had its auto-turrets and the possibility one of the quad gunners might get a lucky shot on a missile.
What it also had was a pilot willing to strain her ship to the breaking point and a fusion drive with a large amount of raw acceleration—Cera had a lot to work with.
Henry felt 2.5Gs press him into his chair. As usual, the Shadow Wolf's inertial compensators were overwhelmed by the fusion drive's power. Yet he didn't dare allow the thrust to be reduced. Two anti-ship missiles were still bearing down on the Shadow Wolf, courtesy of the League fighters.
"They're still locked on," Piper said. "Auto-turrets are tracking but not hitting. I should add we're starting to run low on ammunition."
"Understood," was all Henry would say. All he could say really.
Cera maneuvered the Shadow Wolf sharply to throw off one missile on its terminal course. It flew on past the Shadow Wolf and turned to re-acquire. The other missile remained on track to hit the ship.
Then Cera rotated the ship, twisting to starboard, and used the thrusters to "raise" the bow sharply. The change in their velocity and positioning caused the other incoming missile to fly right past, barely two meters from the deflectors.
The other missile was on them again. But here, Cera's twisting maneuver showed another advantage as it presented both quad turrets on the port side, as well as the auto-turrets, to the same missile. The volunteers manning the quads opened fire along with the computer systems controlling the auto-turrets, sending streams of pulse fire, and magnetically-propelled projectiles into the missile's path. It fired its maneuvering drives in an attempt to evade, and did indeed avoid the first shots. But one of the quad turret gunners tracked with the missile enough to block its movement, allowing the auto-turret systems to re-engage successfully. A projectile slammed into the middle of the missile's body and tore its guts out, killing the engine. The rocket lost all acceleration and maneuvering power. A pulse blast from one of the quads killed it.
That left one warhead coming for them. It was already turning to re-acquire. Cera continued to twist and push the ship, changing their vector again to avoid exposing themselves to the remnant plasma cannons on the space station.
"League missile has reacquired us,” Piper called out.
Henry checked the holotank. Their deflectors could possibly take one missile hit, but he didn't want to have any more coming for them. Fortunately, it seemed the enemy fighters were already losing the battle of attrition. Three of the privateer ships were crippled or dead, but only four of the small craft remained.
Then a new contact appeared on the holotank, right beside the station. Henry asked, "What's that ship?" just before the icon turned amber, showing it was giving off a League IFF signal.
"Fast, for one," Piper said. "It looks like it's got its own fusion drive."
"Huh. That's a new one." Fusion drives were still pretty rare in the League, from what Henry knew. He almost asked if anyone could intercept, but it was clear the answer was "only if they want to get shot at." The ship was staying in the fire zone of the surviving plasma cannons.
"Maybe the League commander is making a run for it," Tia suggested. “He wouldn't be the first, I'm sure."
"Yes and no. Running for it doesn't always work for the League. They shoot people who run unless they're good at spin-doctoring."
All through the conversation, Cera kept them burning, trying to avoid the remaining missile or at least delay its impact. Point-defenses engaged and still failed to hit. The quad turrets tried as well to no success.
"Captain, I've an idea," Cera said. "Permission t' maneuver freely?"
Henry nodded. "Permission granted."
Cera immediately turned the ship back toward the station. Henry's heart pounded as he realized she was about to put them through the space between the core, the linking columns, and the outer torus. He forced himself not to speak; he'd given her permission, now he had to trust her.
"Cera, what the hell?" Tia demanded.
"Let's see how good that damn missile really is," Cera said. There was a telltale tone in her lilt, a frightening one hinting at the "devil-may-care" bluster that some pilots could easily attain when they got to be so outstanding, they were in a class by themselves.
The liquid crystal layer of the forward internal bridge wall showed the League station coming closer and closer, including the rather small-looking gap that Cera was apparently looking to slip them through. The station twisted on the viewer, showing her twisting of the ship's attitude in order to slip through.
"Oh Christ," Piper breathed in disbelief as they neared the gap.
And then they went through. To any another ship observing, it was a spectacular moment, the Shadow Wolf barely seeming to sque
eze past an impossibly small hole. A second later, there was a burst of light and energy as the missile collided with the station's core, blasting away a chunk of it. Debris poured from the wound until the compartment was sealed off by bulkheads.
Henry took in a breath. "Cera, good job," he said. "If you ever do that again, warn us to close our eyes first so we don't have heart attacks."
Cera giggled at him. "If that's how ye'd prefer it, fine. I thought it was nice an' excitin' myself." She glanced back at him with mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"All enemy fighters are destroyed," Piper said, relief in her voice. "So long as we stay clear of those functioning plasma cannons, we're out of danger."
"Not all of us," Henry reminded her, thinking of the team still on the station. "Give us a station-keeping position, Cera. Let's see how this goes."
"Aye, sir.”
“And, Piper? Some scans of the station, please, especially the engineering section." A thought came to him, or rather, a plan in the formative stages. "I want some insurance in case they try to blow their reactors."
The fight into the core section of the station was not an easy one. Yanik's injuries forced him to be more careful, so the assaults were more often carried by prudent and judicious use of force grenades and charges. The going only got easier when they heard another of the boarding teams had already made it into the core, which forced the enemy to start pulling back.
They entered the interior sections to find them in the same condition as the torus had been. "They're depressurizing the station as they fall back," Felix observed. "They can't think it'll delay us?"
"They will do so just for the off-chance of causing a delay," observed Miri. "They’re trying to hold us here as long as possible. To protect their wider operation."
"Then we should get to the computer processing systems as quickly as possible," said al-Lahim. "Before they decide to blow the station."
"This station is similar to the one they assembled in orbit over Lowery," she said. "It's a standard traffic control and fleet support facility. I believe I can lead us to our objective."
"Then by all means, lead away."
"What about S'srish?" Caetano asked. She looked to where Yanik was leaning slightly across the wall. He'd taken a couple more injuries but still hadn't headed to the wounded aid stations left in secured areas.
"Yanik?"
Before Yanik could answer, another voice cut in. "Saurian physiology can be quite robust. They heal very well by nature." Oskar emerged from the open portal leading to the connecting tube to the torus. He was in a soft suit as well with an active medical scanner in one hand, and a pack slung over his back. Jules followed, pulling along a small cart full of other medical supplies. "And the suit's compartmental system protects him from losing his internal air. I may have to order him on light duty for a few days, and he will be eating us out of house and home—"
"Like he doesn't already," guffawed Felix.
"—but he should be fine for now," Oskar finished, pointedly ignoring Felix.
"I needed only a moment; these injuries are still painful," noted Yanik. He moved away from the wall. "I am able to continue."
"Then follow me," said Miri.
In the command center of Pluto Base, which was one of the few areas to still have full power, atmosphere, and gravity, Captain Caillaux observed his dire situation with fatalist detachment. He was ready for death. Death was an end to the all-consuming duty to society that had devoured his life, torn him from family and home, and left him alone all these years.
The markings on his holotank told the tale. They'd lost control of most of the outer torus and those soldiers remaining there were cut off from the rest of the station. All four of the connecting tubes were in enemy hands. His crew were fighting with Socially-inspired bravery, to be certain, and doing him proud. But the enemy had numbers and, if not training, a particular initiative and drive that constantly told in the fights. He might have an hour, maybe an hour and a half, before the station fell.
The time would still be useful. He checked the holotank showing the situation around them, but since it was focused on the environs of the station, he also asked, "Sensors, what is the status of the Altair? And our Q-ship fleet?"
"The Altair has successfully burned out of the immediate zone," the officer answered succinctly. "There are two enemy ships attempting a parabolic intercept course, but they lack the acceleration to catch the admiral before his ship reaches the jump limit. As for the fleet, they are now approaching the limit. Jumping should commence in thirty seconds."
"How many?"
"They still have thirty-one vessels in the fleet."
Caillaux sighed. That was smaller than he'd hoped, but it should still be big enough to make the operation feasible. It was with the plan in mind that he asked his next question. "Has Commander Li departed yet?"
"No, sir. His ship is still in the hangar. His transponder shows he's still aboard the station and approaching his ship."
There was nothing Caillaux could do for Li but hope for his success. Instead, he considered the issue of his Social duty as he'd pledged to Admiral Hartford. His hand went to the internal comm controls and keyed an internal channel. "Engineering, Command. Commander Lauritz, are you there?"
"We read you, Captain," replied the woman in charge of the engineering section.
"Finish preparations to overload the reactors. If you lose contact with me, initiate the overload immediately."
There was only a brief pause before the reply came. "I understand, Captain. For society."
"For society," he repeated in agreement.
The time to get into a softsuit delayed Li's return to his ship, and the beginning of boarding actions made it even more difficult. He had to enter the section of the torus no longer controlled by League crew to get to his ship. Avoiding the boarders required utilizing the subsystem access tubes, tight, cramped areas for the maintenance and repair teams to get direct access to some of the station's systems infrastructure. After twenty minutes of crawling through the dark, he finally reached the access corridor to his hangar.
Li continued down the corridor, gun in hand, and found no opposition. When he got to the hangar door, he frowned at the sight. It was forced open.
He stopped here and glanced in. To his relief, his ship was still intact. The outer hangar door was likewise blasted open, exposing the hangar to space. Two suited boarding team members were watching his vessel. From their body language, he could see they were still reasonably alert; worse, they had rifles. This will be difficult… but not impossible.
Li checked the charge level of his particle pistol to ensure it was ready. When he was reassured it was, he pulled his tablet from his waist and used it to remotely access the ship. He glanced back to see where the guards were and was in time to see one move to the other end of the vessel in a patrol pattern. His distraction plan could now prove even more useful.
As soon as the man approached the rear of the ship, Li remotely activated the engines and put them on low thrust. It wouldn't be enough to beat the magnetic locks in the landing gear holding his ship there, but that was fine by him, as he didn't even want the craft to move. He just wanted its drives to flare to life.
They did so with immediacy. The patrolling enemy seemed to notice the sudden light and raised an arm in protest before the plume of plasma engulfed him. The airlessness of the hangar kept Li from hearing any cries of surprise from the hot, terrible death.
The other guard turned toward the powerful engine with incredulity. Without waiting further, Li stepped into the hangar with his gun raised. Again, there was no sound due to the vacuum, but the brilliant flashes and their effects on the human body were still there. Li's opponent didn't collapse so much as stop moving in place, since there was no gravity to make him fall, just the magboots that kept the invader's feet attached to the ship.
Free and clear at last, Li used his codes to enter the vessel. After closing and securing his airlock door, and
verifying nobody had slipped in after all, he went to the cockpit and brought his ECM systems online as well as the deflectors. Only then did he fire the engines to full and rush out of the hangar.
For cases like this, his ship was built for bursts of speed. He couldn't keep it going without risking running out of fuel for his systems, but Li could at least sustain the high burn to get clear. The burn was such that it pushed him into his chair, overwhelming the inertial compensators until he was experiencing nearly 2Gs of force. It was painful but necessary, since the acceleration was building his speed to the jump limit and making an intercept more difficult. When he saw there were no ships attempting an intercept, he cut the thrust down and enjoyed relief.
A small grin came to his face. He'd gotten away. All he had to do now was join Zervakos' squadron and watch the League's triumph.
Miri's memories and intuition proved correct. Her memory of the Lowery Station layout matched that of this base. Signs in English, Russian, French, and Chinese announced the location of the "Primary Database Access Center" behind a set of sliding double doors. Felix and al-Lahim used hand motions with the others on approach to the door. It was closed and locked. Yanik held his gun ready but heeded al-Lahim's motion not to fire, since his weapon could penetrate the door and damage the computers inside. "We could call to the other teams and ask for a breaching charge," Felix proposed.
"That won't be necessary." Miri walked to the side of the door and crouched. The lights on her softsuit helmet played along the floor, a layer of ash-gray insulated carpeting meant entirely for function, not aesthetic. Miri's hands ran along the edge of the material until her fingers seemed to find purchase on something. A panel came up in the thin space between the insulating material and the wall itself. She reached in and looked up. "A manual release lever."