The Apex Warriors

by Marc Stevens

  Klutch landed at Alpha Base and we debarked to the cheers of our clan. Three notable faces were missing from the crowd. Felix, Graf, and Jaran were not present. It told me their workload was taxing their free time. I was okay with that and would visit each of them. After going through our usual greetings with the balance of our clan, Tria and I went to the infirmary to check on Sael. To our surprise, she was not there.

  “Justice, where is Sael Nalen?”

  “Commander, she is in the replicator building attempting to have her combat armor altered to fit her new bodily dimensions.”

  “I take it her recovery is going well?”

  “As well as can be expected, Commander.”

  That was an interesting way to word his answer. I let it go and we headed out to find Sael. We would form our own opinions. When we reached the replicator building, we saw Jaran and Sael having a discussion. The closer we got, the more I could tell Jaran was attempting to dissuade Sael from bothering Felix or Graf. He was normally very patient and understanding. The look on his face said his manners were wearing thin.

  “Sael! Can we have a word?”

  She seemed startled. I was puzzled because she had to be aware of our return. She stiffly walked in our direction. She had the telltale signs of only being partially recuperated from her enhancements.

  “Yes, Commander Myers.” She said with an unusual amount of tact.

  When we were about three feet apart she opened her mouth to speak. I cut her off. “Felix, Graf, and Jaran have the heaviest workloads around here. If one of them says they are busy, you should respect that and let them do their jobs.”

  “Commander, I…”

  “Sael, you can drop the formalities, they are ringing a little hollow at the moment.”

  Her mouth clamped shut on the angry retort my comment fomented. She took a deep breath and started anew. “Nathan, I would not be here if it weren’t for Justice ignoring my request to transfer my updated biostatistics to Felix. He cannot make the necessary adjustments to my armor without them.”

  I decided to nip this in the bud before it went any further. “Sael, first of all, I wasn’t aware that you had your personal armor with you. As far as I know, the last armor you were wearing belonged to Tria.”

  Sael winced like she just got a bite of something unpleasant. She realized her use of the word “my” may have been a bit premature.

  Tria waded in on our discussion and put things in their proper perspective. “Principal Investigator, my third-generation armor was irreparably damaged and was scraped for its base materials.”

  Sael’s face took on an interesting hue. Rather than continue this conversation in public, I gave her a directive that was a veiled order. “You don’t look like your recovery is complete and I think, for now, you should report back to the infirmary.”

  Sael marched uncomfortably away. She was pissed and we knew it. Tria must have felt a little guilty for chopping her off at the knees, and threw her a bone. “ We have an after-action report that you might want to occupy your recovery time reviewing.”

  Sael stopped short and turned around. We could tell she was working hard on composing the proper response. Tria’s assertion left a door open Sael may have thought was now closed. “I look forward to seeing it.” She replied.

  Tria called to Justice. “Please pull the combat data from our armor and make it available to the Principal Investigator.”

  “Affirmative Tria, The data will be accessible pending her return to the med bay.”

  Once Sael was out of sight Jaran approached us. “Commander, Tria, it is good to see you are back and safe. I apologize on behalf of Felix, and Graf, for not being present upon your return. We have been working on the new Dagger designs, and are having issues with the upgrades to the anomaly weapon. The projection aperture cannot handle the increased power output of the new generators. Our testing procedures have revealed significant degradation in the original design. Justice has given us a new design specification based on the Legacy’s weapon. The aperture is larger and it has required us to reengineer the frontal aspect of the spacecraft. The modification, unfortunately, affects the Dagger’s cloaking capabilities as well. Knowing now, what difficulties we are encountering, may have made starting with a new vessel design worthy of consideration.”

  The report was disheartening. When we left for Outpost 9765, everything seemed to be going smoothly. I was hoping we would be ready to go back to the gates and recon their destination points.

  “Do you have any idea how long of a delay the redesign will take?”

  “No Commander, we have been working nonstop on the project. Every advancement we make in one area causes setbacks in another. We are hoping to overcome the offsets, but so far, that is not happening.”

  The Grawl looked exhausted. That meant Felix and Graf would be in the same condition. I put my hand on his shoulder. “Please do not misconstrue my intentions, but I am ordering you, Felix, and Graf to take a twelve-hour rest period. Set the replicators back to their automated program for the drone production sequence, then report to your quarters.”

  The Grawl looked saddened by what he may have thought was a failure on his part. I did not want him thinking that or he would never be able to sleep. “Jaran, I have complete faith in you. I know that when I am well-rested, I tend to look at adversity in a different light. Things I thought were not possible, suddenly seem like minor inconveniences that can be overcome. Trust me on this.”

  Jaran gave me a half-hearted smile and nodded. I told him I would tell Felix and Graf, but he refused to let me do it. He said he should have made the call for rest hours ago, but stubbornly refused to give in. Tria and I went to the Legacy to see how the repairs were going. We were still a good distance away and could already see the hull appeared to be like new. The thick Containium armor plates glistened in the overhead lighting. The scaffolding and gantries surrounding the Legacy were swarming with Grawl. The scientists and engineers were probably working double or triple shifts just like Jaran, Felix, and Graf. When we reached the boarding ramp, I held up my hands and shouted so everyone could hear me.

  “Attention! Everyone is to take a twelve-hour rest period starting now! I want everyone well rested and fed. That is an order!”

  Unlike Jaran, the rest of my clan didn’t take it as hard as he did. They quietly filed by smiling. Each of them reached out to make hand contact before departing to the lifts.

  When all of my clan were gone, I called Justice. “Where are my two favorite trouble makers?”

  “Commander, I am pleased to report that after more than thirty minutes of unintelligent conversations, Coonts and Klutch retired to their respective cabins.”

  We boarded the Legacy and went to the galley. After selecting meals we sat at our usual table and I asked Justice about the setbacks with the Dagger.

  “Justice, I thought the modifications to the Daggers would be complete by now. If I am correctly interpreting what Jaran has told me, additional modifications were added after our departure for Outpost 9765.”

  “Yes Commander, after going over the data collected during your engagement with the Prule, I made several design changes. Even though the Fury’s weapon systems were degraded by the Prule while in captivity, it was still very formidable against massed attack scenarios. For a Dagger to survive in the same environment, it must be capable of one-shot kills on fully shielded Prule warships operating at one-hundred percent of efficiency. In their present configuration, it would take two or more close-range shots for the anomaly weapon to disable a single Prule warship. That raises your exposure to hostile fire to unacceptable levels.”

  Tria and I looked at each other. We didn’t need further explanation. Justice was telling us we would get our asses shot off if we were forced to engage a large Prule force. The Daggers were almost untouchable while phasing, but to fire the main weapon it had to be in normal spacetime. The computers were fast but still needed several seconds to accurately target a ship moving at ex
tremely high velocities. Those handfuls of seconds could prove to be fatal if we were being targeted by multiple warships.

  “Jaran was unable to give us an estimate on the time it will take to make the modifications. I am sure you have an idea.”

  “Adding your mandatory rest period into my estimation adds two hundred fifty hours to the upgrade work schedules. That is assuming of course we can overcome our current obstacles with no additional setbacks. I would like to point out my time estimate will change drastically when the repair teams finish the repairs on the Legacy.”

  “How much longer on the Legacy?”

  “Once the scientists and engineers return from their rest period, no more than twenty hours.”

  “And the time savings will be what.”

  “It is my hope that my initial estimate will be halved.”

  I finished my meal and sat quietly organizing my thoughts on how best to use the one hundred and twenty plus hours of downtime.

  Tria was one step ahead of me and already formulated a plan. “Justice can you give us cockpit simulations so we can familiarize ourselves with the new systems?”

  “Yes, Tria. I will have the simulations ready in eight hours. While the upgrades will be an issue to overcome, the operational simulations will remain unchanged.”

  I looked out of the corners of my eyes at the pretty Chaalt warrior. I was going to suggest something along the same lines but she beat me to it. No matter how many times I asked, she refused to give me an answer on whether or not she was reading my mind. The closest she ever came to answering, was a comment she made one evening when we were getting ready to retire. She remarked on how easy it was to determine what some of the simpler-minded species usually want.

  Justice interrupted my thoughts. “Commander, I have an incoming IST transmission from Bond Connery.”

  “Put it through, Justice.”

  “Commander Myers, I just sat through a briefing from General Bonaparte. I was shocked to hear the extent of the operation that was still ongoing against you. The General just departed the outpost. He has informed me he is taking command of a task force that is being assembled as we speak. Once their preparations are complete, the Sig fleet will move in force to Outpost 3142. He told me they are going to blockade the outpost. If the Legion of the Chosen will not surrender, he will go in with whatever force is necessary to capture them. If that is not possible, he will destroy the outpost.”

  I more or less figured that was going to happen. The Scrun made a huge miscalculation when they included the Sig in their revenge plot. Now they would be on the receiving end of the carnage they had sown.

  I was still curious about the Galactic Union’s visit to the outpost. “What did the Galactic Union Investigators have to say to you?”

  “They were interested in my background and asked a lot of questions about how I got here. I believe my cover story was convincing enough they accepted it without a lot of suspicions. They had questions concerning my relationship with General Bonaparte that I truthfully answered. It seemed as though they were more interested in that than how I ended up on the Outpost. I was thinking they would get around to trying to sway that relationship to their advantage, but the Officer in charge received a call that promptly ended my interview. I have strong feelings, it may have been the direct result of your actions. I have no proof of that, but that is my opinion.”

  “You did good Bond. You averted another attack on the outpost, and your intel may be the reason the Scrun and their Legion, will never come back to try again. Keep up the good work. I want you to continue to pass anything suspicious on to us regardless of how trivial it may seem to be.”

  “You can count on me, Commander.”

  Bond signed off leaving me to wonder if he was correct in his assumption. The Union suddenly leaving the outpost may have been coincidental but the timing hinted otherwise. I was thinking it did in fact have to do with us taking out the strike teams. The Union operatives may have missed a comms message or some other indicator that let them know whatever they had planned, wasn’t going to happen. When Bonaparte was finished at Outpost 3142 they would absolutely know their plans were down the crapper.

  12

  Tria took me by the hand and led me out of the galley. “We should rest until Justice completes his work on the simulations.”

  There were other things I could have spent the time doing, but catching some extra sleep sounded better than the alternatives. When Justice gave us a wake-up call several hours later, I thought that I would be well-rested. That was not the case and I went back to the galley for a double dose of artificial coffee. Tria acted as chipper as ever and went to the Daggers without me. I said I would be there shortly. When I walked into the galley I called Justice and told him I needed the coffee to be strong. He took the request to mean he could poison me with rocket fuel. He must have thought it would soften the report that the Daggers were still experiencing setbacks. His time estimates were on the increase instead of declining as he predicted. I managed to get about half a cup of the caustic brew down before deciding if I drank anymore it would rot my guts out. It was just as well because I heard a familiar ruckus coming from the corridor. I abandoned the rotgut coffee and made a fast retreat. I was in no mood to hear anything Coonts and Klutch were arguing about.

  I walked into the storage complex where we kept the Daggers. We were still a few hours from the time the Grawl would report back to work and the place was deserted. Tria was sitting in the cockpit of her fighter. The exterior dimensions of the spacecraft were fast approaching twice what the originals were. The Grawl were cramming a huge assortment of new equipment into them. I felt sorry for the engineers who had to go behind them and redesign the exterior hulls. Armoring the spacecraft and making it stealthy was going to test their skills.

  I climbed into my Dagger. “Okay Justice, show us what you got.”

  My cockpit closed up and the pitch-black darkness suddenly brightened when the three-dimensional HUD came to life in front of me. It showed a sight I had seen once before. It was the Prule fleet protecting the gateway we had passed through. The simulation showed our Daggers were attached to pieces of debris. As the separation from the gates grew, Prule warships were making course changes to intercept the pieces. The simulation showed our Daggers fall away from the debris and change vectors to avoid the ship traffic. I guess Justice had already determined our negation and stealth systems would shield us from detection. The Daggers moved out and away from the Prule ships and headed for what I thought was a planet. As we closed with the target it took on the appearance of a supercarrier. I was now wondering what the hell. Even with ship killer weapons installed on our Daggers, they couldn’t inflict enough damage to destroy the massive ship. My HUD flashed several times showing me several pieces of debris that came through the gate well behind us. Three of the pieces had a large torpedo detach from them. Other pieces had drones separate from them. Justice was making use of all the tools at our disposal. The drones encircled the gate. The torpedos flashed and disappeared. The supercarrier had three huge eruptions belch from its hull and it blew apart.

  I called to the AI. “Okay Justice, give us a time out. I know what we are seeing, but I need an explanation to go with it.”

  “Commander, when you go through the gates, I will be sending planet killer class torpedos and enough drones to defend the gate behind you. As you see in the simulation, they will be attached to debris in the same manner as the Daggers. In the event, we don’t find worthy targets, we will send them back through the gate when we reverse it to retrieve the Daggers. I will then collect them for another mission.”

  “What if we find several targets like the tethered space dock?” Tria asked.

  “The missions I have created a scenario for will have multiple high-value targets. I anticipate sending twelve torpedos and twenty of our stealth attack drones through behind you. The drones will stay close to the gate to ensure you have a viable escape route. They can be individually vector
ed to a target once you have prioritized them. As you will see in my simulations, it would be highly advisable to have a complete target list for the torpedos before deploying the weapons.”

  I started thinking about that and knew the torpedos were not that stealthy. They relied on the mothership to hide them until launch. “I take it you have redesigned the Chaalt torpedos to make them less detectable?”

  “Yes Commander, it is another reason we are experiencing longer than expected delays.”

  Coonts interrupted with a question of his own. “What about our comms? How can we be sure they will be secure?”

  It was a legitimate question. We would not be able to effectively coordinate without secure comms. Justice must have known the Grawl would ask the question.

  “Engineer Coonts, I am sure you are aware that our IST technology is a vast improvement over the original Chaalt design. The scientists and I continue to improve the tech. Our latest efforts have combined the best attributes of the Backscatter transmitters with the high-level interdimensional capabilities of our IST transmitters. All comms are detectable on some level, but the ability to decipher comprehensible communications from the background noise of space is a challenge. Over the past several years I have been carefully analyzing all of our IST and Backscatter transmissions. I specifically studied the differences between our comms traffic and the natural background noise of the universe. The embedded information is a close facsimile to that background noise, but not a perfect representation. We have since refined our comms signals. In many cases, the embedded communications are indistinguishable from the naturally occurring cacophony of the universe. Without having one of our latest generation transceivers, the possibility of the Prule being able to detect our comms technology is extremely small.”