by Ryk Brown
Kit stepped off the pad. He loved the sensation of movement in the mark two system. Unlike the assistive bodysuit of the mark one system, which was constantly squeezing at his body, the mark two system used servos and miniature hydraulics, along with weak anti-gravity emitters, to help the wearer move and give him additional strength. The mark one systems made him feel invincible, but the mark two made him feel like he could do anything.
Kit walked up to the left side of the rear cargo door, slapping the open button with his armored hand. The ship’s AI sensed the presence of a vacuum outside and automatically activated the pressure shield over the perimeter of the hatch opening, its emitter glowing a pale blue.
Kit stepped back a few meters as the massive door began to fold down, and the pressure shield reached full power, shimmering a pale, nearly-transparent blue. He walked backward several more steps, then reached up and grabbed the strap hanging from the large, double-barreled weapon that was stored up against the ceiling of the utility bay. He pulled down, dragging the weapon out of its folded-up position as the hatch continued to lower.
Once deployed, the weapon automatically activated and spun ninety degrees to face aft. At the same time, the overhead track lowered just enough to clear the top of the massive hatchway opening, then protruded outward two meters.
The ramp deployed to the point of being level with the interior deck, then stopped. Kit grabbed the weapon’s handles and slid it aft, just far enough so that the business ends of the weapon’s two barrels were protruding beyond the pressure shield.
Finally, Kit powered up the plasma generators of his weapon, lighting up the targeting display in the process. “Tail gun, ready.”
“I am unable to identify the contact’s origin,” Lieutenant Gartell reported from the Bor-Quarum’s sensor station.
“Armaments?” Captain Proth inquired.
“Multiple plasma turrets, missile tubes, plasma torpedo cannons, and point defenses,” the second officer reported from the tactical station.
“Shields?”
“They came on seconds after they jumped in,” the sensor officer replied.
“Then they have detected us,” Commander Lobey opined. “Shall I retarget some of our weapons from the surface to the new contact?”
“Not yet,” Captain Proth instructed. “We do not know the identity of this vessel.”
“They are heavily armed and are on an intercept course with shields raised,” the commander reminded him. “That is all we need to know.”
“Are we outgunned?” the captain asked.
“No, sir; we have the advantage, but not by much,” the commander explained. “However, we do not know their shield strength, nor the range and capabilities of their missiles.”
“Captain, the contact doesn’t look like a warship,” the sensor officer reported. “I think she’s a converted cargo ship, like us.”
“The Volonese may have contracted help from others,” Commander Lobey suggested. “Perhaps from someone outside the Pentaurus sector; someone we are not aware of.”
“That is a possibility,” the captain agreed. “Are they still on an intercept course?”
“Yes, sir,” the commander replied. “Best guess is that they will be in range and able to attack in approximately five minutes.”
Captain Proth rose from his command chair, walking over to stand behind the sensor officer and look at the readings for himself. “Very suspicious, the timing of this unknown, yet well-armed vessel.”
“Captain, I recommend we establish a targeting lock on the unidentified vessel. If they do intend to attack, we need to be ready.”
“Agreed,” Captain Proth replied. “But do not turn any weapon toward the target, yet. If they are not here to interdict, then I do not wish to create another enemy of the Dusahn; not on our first engagement. We have more than enough enemies to deal with at the moment.”
“Captain…” the commander began to object.
“You have your orders, Commander Lobey,” the captain snapped.
“Yes, sir,” the commander replied respectfully. “Targeting unidentified vessel.”
“I’m not getting anything in the ship’s database on the armed ship,” Dylan reported. “However, the cargo ship appears to be an old Galean cargo ship.” Dylan turned to look at his captain. “Who are the Galean?”
“Not who; what,” Josh replied. “It’s a company on Paradar that builds really crappy light freighters.”
“Does that database include all the ships from the Aurora’s database?” Nathan wondered.
“Yes, sir,” Dylan confirmed. “I did the merge myself.”
“Show me the scans of the armed ship,” Jessica instructed.
“Putting them up on the overhead display,” Dylan replied.
“What do you want me to do, Cap’n?” Josh wondered. “We’re on an intercept course, and we’re probably already in their weapons range.”
“Are the two ships traveling together?” Nathan wondered.
“They’re both on the same heading and relatively close together,” Dylan informed him.
Jessica looked at the overhead display, studying the sensor readings. “Can you extrapolate a profile based on this?”
“Give me a second,” Dylan replied.
“Hold course for now,” Nathan instructed Josh.
“You got it.”
The overhead display refreshed, and a line-drawing representing a profile view of the ship appeared.
“That’s a Dusahn ship,” Jessica realized.
“Are you sure?” Nathan asked.
“It’s one of the six they picked up recently,” Jessica replied. “I remember them from Shinoda’s intel reports. Except they’ve been upgraded. He’s probably escorting the Galean ship.”
“What kind of upgrades?” Nathan wondered.
“Bigger guns and more of them,” Jessica replied. “And these look like missile tubes; forward facing, like ours. You can bet they have Dusahn shields as well.”
“She looks about the same size as us.”
“A little bigger maybe, but I’d say we’re a good match for her.”
Nathan thought for a moment, then reached up to the comms panel, pressing a few buttons. “Unidentified ship attacking the planet, this is the Karuzari Alliance ship Dalen Voss. Break off your attack immediately and power down all weapons, or we will be forced to open fire on your vessel. You have ten seconds to comply.”
“They’re not unidentified, Nathan. They’re Dusahn,” Jessica insisted.
“Better to play it safe, for now.”
A warning beep sounded from the center threat console, and a red light began flashing.
“We’re being targeted,” Josh reported.
“This is not good,” Dylan added.
“I guess they don’t plan on complying,” Jessica commented.
“Go manual, Josh,” Nathan instructed. “Be ready for anything, and don’t wait for me to give you orders if you think you need to go evasive.”
“My pleasure,” Josh replied, deactivating the auto-flight and taking the controls.
Nathan reached up and activated the intercom, setting it to open two-way throughout the ship. No matter where his crew was or what they were doing, they would all hear everything each of them said. “Two-way is on,” he announced. “Everyone be ready.” He then looked at Jessica. “Time to see how well this ship can fight.”
“I’ll be in the nose turret,” Jessica replied, turning to depart.
Captain Proth did not look happy. His first mission as the captain of the Bor-Quarum should have been easy. Now he was not only bombarding a planet full of unarmed civilians, but he had a Karuzari warship bearing down on him. “Mister Ostro, instruct the Oro-Bowona to jump to a safe location, then update us with her new position. We shall call for her return once we have dealt w
ith our uninvited guests.”
“Yes, sir,” the communications officer acknowledged.
“Captain, I must remind you that standing orders regarding armed contact with the Karuzari are to immediately notify command of the situation.”
“If we do so, they will send the Nan-Sala, and we will be robbed of our victory,” Captain Proth countered.
“If we fail?” the commander asked.
“Then we will not have to worry about violating our standing orders,” the captain replied. “Prepare to attack with missiles,” he added, “but continue our attack on Volon. We shall not give the Karuzari vessel the pleasure of saving even a single Volonese life.”
Jessica slid down the stair ladder rails, landing gracefully on the lower deck and turning to head forward. Seconds later, she reached the forward airlock hatch and opened it. In its retracted position, the forward boarding ramp served as the floor of the airlock, allowing her to move through the airlock to the hatch to the newly installed gun turret in the Voss’s nose.
Unlike the doors to the gun turrets on the sides of the nacelles, which had sliding doors, the nose turret had a manually operated hinged hatch, due to space limitations. She swung it open and stepped through, then closed the hatch behind her and locked it.
Jessica quickly took her seat and buckled her restraints. She activated her gun turret, then looked out beyond the canopy surrounding her. Unlike the other turrets, being at the bow of the ship meant she had no frame of reference around her.
Everywhere she looked was open space. The most she could see of the Voss were the very tips of her nacelles to either side, and only if she leaned as far over as her canopy allowed. At first, it was a bit overwhelming, reminding her of her EVA training a decade ago.
Jessica took a deep breath as she checked her weapon’s targeting display.
“Missile launch!”
She only hoped the Voss’s forward shields held. If not, she wouldn’t survive long. “Nose gun, ready,” she reported over the intercom.
“Six inbound!” Dylan reported.
“How long to impact?” Nathan asked, knowing that Dylan was not trained in the task he was currently performing.
“Twenty seconds to impact!”
“Well at least they aren’t jump missiles,” Nathan said. “Activate point defenses.”
“Point defenses have already activated,” Dylan replied.
“Another change in our AI’s programming?” Nathan asked.
“Yes, sir,” Dylan replied sheepishly. “Sorry sir, I’ll change that one back as well.”
“No, that one I like.”
“You gotta count them down as they’re taken out,” Josh scolded Dylan.
“Sorry,”
Josh glanced at the sensor display, then pulled the Voss’s nose up sharply and jammed her throttles all the way forward.
Dylan’s eyes opened wide as he was pushed back in his seat. “What are you doing?”
“It’s called evasive action,” Josh replied as he dialed up a micro-jump. “I’m going to jump over them and come out about two clicks.”
“Ready the forward torpedo tubes,” Nathan instructed.
“Jumping,” Josh announced. As the jump flash washed over them, he yanked his throttles back and pulled back hard on the flight controls. As the ship pitched up, he rolled it over. “My pickle hot?”
“Your what?” Dylan asked.
“Jesus, kid!” Josh chastised as he reached for the weapons control panel on the far side of the center console.
“Let ’em have it, Josh,” Nathan ordered.
Josh came out of the maneuver, lined up perfectly on the Dusahn ship, flying backwards away from it. He jammed his throttles forward again, hoping to decrease the speed at which they were traveling away from their target as he held down the firing button on his flight controls.
Four red-orange balls of plasma streaked past either side of the cockpit, hurtling toward the enemy ship. A split second later, four more plasma torpedoes followed.
“They’re firing on all turrets!” Dylan announced as bolts of glowing red energy slammed into the Voss’s forward shields.
“Jesus!” Jessica exclaimed as the forward shields flashed bright red with each impact. Her tiny bubble filled with brilliant, red light and shook violently.
“Everything okay down there?” Nathan called over the intercom.
“I’m good!” Jessica replied. “This position just takes some getting used to! Feels like I’m all alone in a bubble with a gun and no damn control over where I’m going.”
“Gunners are weapons free,” Nathan instructed. “You get an angle, you fire!”
Vladimir swung his turret to face forward, lining his weapon up on the icon on his targeting screen. The icon flashed green, indicating that his weapon was locked on the target, and he pressed the firing trigger down and held it.
All four barrels opened fire. Left upper, right upper, left lower, right lower.
“Bozhe moi!”
The cycle repeated, his turret automatically adjusting its aim as the target drifted away from them. Seconds later, a blue-white flash washed over them, and the target was gone, and his weapon automatically stopped firing.
“Did you hit anything?” Marcus asked over the intercom.
“I have no idea,” Vladimir admitted.
“Come port ninety, down fifteen relative,” Nathan instructed. “Dylan, load a pair of shield busters, then queue up a pair of nukes. I want to end this quickly.”
“Okay…” Dylan looked confused.
“What’s wrong?” Nathan asked.
“What are shield busters? Do you mean shield-penetrating jump missiles?”
“Yes,” Nathan replied, controlling his irritation.
“Before you ask, ‘nukes’ means ‘nuclear’.”
“I know what ‘nukes’ means,” Dylan defended. “Shield busters are loaded. Nukes will be next.”
“Put a twenty-second jump delay on the shield busters,” Nathan told him.
“Got it.”
“That long enough for another ninety?” Nathan asked Josh.
“It is for me,” Josh assured him.
“Jump delay is set, first two are ready for launch.”
“Did you calculate the target’s impact position based on last known course and speed?” Nathan asked.
“Uh…” Dylan glanced at his missile control console. “How do I do that?”
“Bottom left on the missile control panel,” Josh told him. “The missile-targeting computer is tied into the sensors. Just select the target, and the computer will make the calculations automatically and update them at the moment of launch, so that the missiles come out of the jump as close to their target’s calculated position as possible.”
“Of course,” Dylan said. “I should have known that.”
“Ya think?” Josh chided.
“Be ready to jump us ahead three light minutes and then come to port again. I want us lined up on the target’s port bow, a little below.”
“Got it,” Josh replied.
“Those missiles ready, Dylan?”
“Yes, sir,” Dylan replied, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Josh, put our nose on the target’s estimated position so we can launch. Jump to the next waypoint as soon as the missiles are away.”
“No problem.”
Nathan waited while Josh bought the ship’s nose around.
“Lined up, Cap’n,” Josh reported.
“Launch the first two missiles and reload,” Nathan ordered.
Dylan swallowed hard, then pressed the missile launch button. A mechanical zing reverberated through the ship as two missiles were flung forward through their launch tubes by their electromagnetic rails. Dylan glanced out his starboard window as the missile passed. “Oh my go
d,” he exclaimed.
“You’ve got twenty seconds to load the next two and give them targeting data,” Nathan reminded him as the Voss’s nose began to come back around to line up with its path of flight once again.
“Jumping to next waypoint,” Josh announced as the ship continued to yaw to port. The jump flash washed over them once again, just as Josh stopped the yaw maneuver. He jammed the throttles all the way forward again, and then initiated his next course change.
Again, Dylan was thrown back in his seat, unprepared for the sudden acceleration.
“How are those missiles, Dylan?” Nathan asked.
“Second two are loaded,” Dylan reported. He glanced at the targeting computer. “Targeting data is loaded.”
Nathan glanced at the clock on the overhead console. “Five seconds to spare. Not bad.”
Dylan felt a wave of relief come over him.
“Not bad?” Josh questioned.
“Mind your helm,” Nathan warned.
Josh rolled his eyes as he completed his turn. “On course for attack jump.”
“Launch the nukes and ready the plasma torpedo tubes,” Nathan instructed.
Again, Dylan pressed the missile launch button, forcing himself not to look out the window again. “Missiles away, forward tubes ready.”
“Stand by for attack jump,” Nathan instructed Josh.
Captain Proth paced nervously as his ship continued its bombardment of the planet below. An endless stream of scenarios ran through his head. Since he had learned of his pending new command, he had spent all his spare time studying the battles between the Dusahn and the Karuzari, especially those with the Aurora. What had always amazed him was Captain Scott’s ability to be predictable, yet unpredictable. Time and time again, captains of Dusahn warships had assumed they had a strategic advantage, only to have that advantage taken away from them. In all the battles he had studied, there had been one commonality that stood out above all others.
Pride.
Pure-blooded Dusahn considered themselves superior in every way, especially those in command of warships. They often stood their ground, refusing to yield their position, even when doing so was the only survivable option. Those who did yield faced ridicule or even punishment upon their return. This pride was the Dusahn Empire’s greatest weakness, and Lysan knew it. But to state this failing publicly would end his career and, quite possibly, his life.