by Dean Henegar
“My laser weapons are very basic and take a long time to recharge after firing. I’m trying to improve them, but the research takes time. The same thing goes for my firearms. It seems like I can only make small improvements each time with the weapons I have,” Slater admitted.
“We’ll see if we can’t help you out with that after the fight,” Camden said, tapping his own rifle. If the soldier’s gear was as good as Slater thought it might be, his kobolds were in for a major upgrade. As the last of the group—the dwarf Quint—entered the room, the rats in the trashcan made their move. Quint must have remembered them from his first visit to the derelict and was expecting the move. With a quickness Slater didn’t expect from the dwarf, Quint drew the two pistols holstered at his side and plugged both rats. His pistols turned out to be projectile weapons and not lasers, the kinetic energy of the shots tearing his poor rats apart.
The wounded orc was still alive but in no condition to continue. The attackers stopped for a bit as a pair of them hauled their wounded comrade back to the ship. The limping orc also returned to the ship, and two fresh orcs emerged to take their place. With their numbers replenished, the orcs opened the hatch to the trap-filled passageway. Slater was nervous; his forces were barely slowing the orcs down. The fact that they had more reinforcements in their ship was also a bad sign.
Slater looked in on what Lieutenant Camden was doing, figuring he and his soldiers might be the only hope of stopping the orcs. The lieutenant and Private Harris were inside one of the shooting range bunkers. The emplacements had been designed for a kobold and proved to be a bit small for the humans. Camden and Harris had to kneel to aim their weapons through the firing slit; the position was too high to fire from when prone and too short to fire from when standing.
“See if Gonzales can spare two of his toys. I’d like to place them at the base of the bunker in case they try to overrun us,” Camden told Harris. Gonzales handed him two plastic-covered rectangles that were slightly curved and a couple of inches thick. The green plastic had writing on it. Slater zoomed in to read: Front Toward Enemy.
He was excited to see how the weapon worked, watching as Gonzales set up another three pairs of them along the walls of the passageway, just past the hatch the orcs would enter from. Up near the ceiling in the corners of the room, each of the flying dish drones hovered. Slater wasn’t sure if they were armed or not, as Camden had referred to them as recon drones. The other pair of drones the humans had—the combat bots—clicked their way over to stand on either side of the entry hatch itself, partially covered by the hatch coaming. Their small turrets swiveled about in their endless search for a target.
Slater checked back on the invaders. They had disabled the traps in the hall and now were clearing out the rat-keeper’s compartment. The rat-keeper had been effective against the hordes of defilers, but the orcs’ ranged weapons tore his forces apart without any trouble. The rat-keeper himself was able to get a shot off with his laser rifle, but the blast didn’t penetrate the armor of the orc he had hit. While the orcs’ makeshift armor looked like it was cobbled together from small sheets of metal and strips of a Kevlar-like material, it was performing well against the simple weapons Slater’s MOBS had brought to the fight. He had higher hopes for the engineering compartment since he had reinforced them with an additional four kobolds and the taskmaster from the shooting range.
Back in the shooting range, Slater watched as the humans finished their efforts and took cover inside the cramped bunkers, weapons out and aimed at the hatch. Gonzales had trouble fitting inside the small space; the man was huge and had more gear on him than any two of the other human soldiers.
“Sir, no way I’m going to fit in here. Okay if I set up to the side of the bunker?” Gonzales asked.
“Roger that. Move with a purpose. The orcs are nearly here,” Camden replied.
Gonzales stepped a few feet from the bunker he had been trying to share with Private Long and hauled the huge metal box off his back. With the flip of a switch and a grunt of effort, Gonzales dropped the box on the ground. Gears whirred and the box made a clacking sound as it unfolded into a curved metal wall about three feet high, complete with firing ports and view slots. Gonzales set up his machine gun, attaching a bipod to the end and lying prone behind his shield, where he was almost completely protected by the thick metal.
Gonzales wasn’t done yet. He pulled out a small flexible sheet from his pack and draped it over himself and his gun shield. Light flickered from the sheet as it took on the color of the surrounding floor, hiding the sergeant from sight. Slater greatly doubted the sergeant would remain hidden once he started blazing away with his weapon, but the concealment sheet could have many uses. If he still had a mouth, Slater would have started drooling over all the impressive gear the humans had brought with them.
Back in the engineering compartment, Slater’s kobolds were doing better than the others in his derelict. The orcs had gotten overconfident again, marching into the room only to be met by fire from all ten of the kobolds stationed inside. One of the orcs was down and not moving, likely dead, and another had its arm hanging limply by its side. Four of the kobolds were down, but the two taskmasters and the other four kobolds were behind cover and held freshly recharged weapons.
“Too many in there. Toss in the ball,” Krogtog ordered.
One of the orcs pulled out the round basketball drone and tossed it into the compartment Slater’s kobolds were hiding in. The ball became active as soon as it hit the floor, spinning more rapidly than it had previously. This time, blades extended from the sides of the machine as it rolled its way toward the first kobold it spotted. The kobold fired and missed the approaching drone. The drone revved up as it hit the kobold. The blades on its side worked like a gory blender, tearing his kobold to pieces.
The ball rolled on to the next victim, this time a taskmaster. Not daunted in the least by the approaching death ball, the taskmaster squeezed off a shot with his laser rifle, scoring a hit that left sparks shooting from the hole it had burned in the machine’s shell. The single laser rifle shot was not enough to stop the basketball drone. With a snick, the blade on the taskmaster’s arm shot out and he stabbed at the drone. His blade bit through the armored shell and slowed the drone a little, but it wasn’t enough to save Slater’s taskmaster. The drone rolled past the kobold, spinning blades on the sides of the ball making a meaty sound as they sheared the taskmaster’s feet off at the ankle.
The drone sputtered slowly in a circle, seeking another victim. A blunderbuss-armed kobold popped out from behind a pipe and blasted at the machine. Most of the shot deflected off the armored shell, but several pellets hit openings caused by earlier damage. The force of the blast slid the drone across the compartment’s metal floor before it finally clanked against a pipe. Flames from an electrical fire flickered from the various holes blasted and stabbed into the now-dead device.
Attackers had crept into the room as the basketball drone distracted the kobolds. They moved expertly from cover to cover, laying down blistering fire from their weapons. As far as Slater could tell, the laser rifles many of them wielded didn’t have much of a cooldown cycle. The remaining kobolds put up a fight, injuring another orc before the last of them were cut down. The orcs paused as they sent their wounded and dead back to their ship. Slater watched angrily as the biomass that the wounded and dead orcs represented—not to mention a potential new MOBS schematic—was hauled out of his derelict.
This time, only a pair of orcs came out of the ship to replace the two wounded and one dead that had gone inside it. Perhaps they were running out of reserves. Slater didn’t have any idea how many crew the various species had on their ships; it was another question he would have to ask Camden after the battle . . . if they survived.
The orcs grunted at the two newcomers, who were ordered up to the front of the group and tasked with opening the hatch into the next compartment—the compartment the humans were waiting in.
— 19 —
They made it about two steps before Lieutenant Camden and the two privates each fired off a three-round burst from their rifles. The shots, having been delivered by trained professionals, all hit center mass. The orc on the left was only targeted by Private Long, the first round hitting and cracking the orc’s armored vest. The second and third rounds punched through the compromised plate, driving into the orc with a pop. The orc’s chest puffed out slightly from the explosive round before he fell dead on his face.
The orc on the right didn’t stand a chance as the six rounds hit him, pulverizing his chest. The humans had somehow developed exploding rounds for their rifles. Curiously, the round that was blocked by the plate didn’t explode. Perhaps they only did so if they penetrated into a body. Slater would have to add that to the list of designs he wanted to copy from the humans.
The orcs’ aggression proved to be their downfall. At seeing two of their number cut down so easily, the orcs roared in rage and charged toward the bunkers, weapons blazing. The leader, Krogtog, was the next to enter and all three riflemen targeted him, killing the giant orc in a hail of exploding rounds. The next pair to enter through the hatch were targeted by Gonzales, who finally let loose with his machine gun. The weapon’s high rate of fire made the long burst sound like a giant piece of cloth was being ripped apart. Heavy rounds stitched their way across the bodies of the attacking orcs, tearing chunks off of them with each hit.
The final orc made it farther than the others. The soldiers held their fire as the first mine they had planted on the walls went off. Slater was expecting a blast of fire and chunks of metal to cut down the orc. Instead, there was an explosion and then the devices emitted a wave of laser bolts. Both sides of the orc were riddled with lasers as the crossfire setup of the two mines did its work.
In the hatchway, the last opponent stood, pistols in hand and a dumbfounded look on his face. His powerful orc allies had been wiped out in moments. Before Quint could act, the two combat bots scurried over the hatch coaming and began to blast away at the dwarf, their powerful rounds cracking armor and pulverizing flesh. The lightning-fast Quint drew his pistols and landed a shot into each combat bot, shutting them down as he slumped to the floor and began crawling back toward the entrance of the derelict.
“Clear! One tango is Whiskey India Alpha and heading toward the orc vessel. All others are KIA. You want us to chase him down, Slater? That little twerp is deadly with those pistols. Might be best to just let him bleed out on the floor,” Camden reported, watching Quint through the feed that Slater had sent him.
“No, I’ll do the honors, and I don’t just want the dwarf—I want their whole ship. The salvage and biomass aboard it will be invaluable for what we want to accomplish,” Slater said.
Camden nodded and motioned with his arm, signaling for Slater to go right ahead. Slater set his MOBS to aggressive mode and watched them stream out of their compartments as they made their way through the derelict and toward the orc vessel. Sixteen kobolds, ten rats, a taskmaster, and the kobold captain organized themselves in the shooting range before pushing on.
The rats went first, scurrying over the orc bodies and biting at them on their way past, making sure they were dead and not playing possum. The swarm then entered the engineering bay and overran Quint, who was bleeding out on the deck and gasping for air. The first rat to reach him latched onto the dwarf’s throat and shook his head. Quint made a feeble effort to raise his pistols but had lost too much blood and no longer had the strength to lift them. The rat continued to shake its head, and with a wet squishing sound, it pulled out Quint’s throat, finishing the last invader.
With the last invader killed, Slater put some of the drones to work on printing up replacements as well as gathering all that sweet, sweet salvage the battle had left behind. He had high hopes for new schematics to be unlocked with everything the orcs and Quint had in their possession. Based on the pace his troops were making, Slater would be able to reinforce them with a taskmaster and another pair of kobolds before they hit the orc vessel.
The force then continued toward the entry hatch. Camden sent a pair of his flying drones to follow the group, allowing Slater to join in and watch the video feed the drones were providing. Four of the kobolds, led by a taskmaster, clambered up the ladder and into the orc vessel. Laser fire and shouts came from inside as the kobolds still on the derelict began boosting rats up and into the enemy ship. Slater sent himself a reminder to redesign the entry ladder so that his rats and any other creatures like them could climb up more easily into an attached vessel.
The drone shot up the passage just behind the last rat, and Slater got his first look at the inside of an orc ship. What he saw didn’t impress him. The passages were filthy, and it was obvious that maintenance was not a high priority for the group. A pair of orcs lay dead just past the entry hatch, along with the taskmaster and three of his four kobolds. The rest of Slater’s forces climbed or were tossed into the orc ship, where they began to run down passages to look for any remaining hostiles. One of the drones followed the kobold captain as he reached what looked like the infirmary and opened the hatch, only to eat two laser blasts for his efforts. The boss of the derelict wasn’t strong enough to resist two hits from the powerful orc weapons and went down in a heap.
Unfortunately for the orcs in the infirmary, a half dozen rats and a pair of kobolds were following their boss. The rats swarmed in and the orcs fired several rounds in a panic, managing to hit two of the rats before they were overrun. After the orcs were killed, Slater’s rats began nosing about the compartment, eventually finding a third, barely moving orc trying to hide under one of the stretchers. Before Slater was able to watch the rats finish him off, the recon drone flew off toward the sound of laser fire. Turning the passageway, the drone zeroed in on the remaining kobold taskmaster and six kobolds who were fighting it out with two orcs in flight suits.
The orcs wore no armor and only wielded laser pistols. The open hatch behind the pair revealed ship controls, leaving Slater to believe he had found the orc vessel’s bridge. Using the hatchway into the bridge as cover, the flight crew would lean out, snap off a few shots, and then duck back into cover. A pair of dead kobolds lay near the entrance. One body was draped over the hatchway, preventing the orcs from closing it without exposing themselves to fire. The taskmaster waved his forces forward, charging the blocked open hatchway as one of the flight crew began to haul on the body blocking the hatch.
The kobolds fired as they went, all but one of the bolts missing their targets and blasting into the delicate flight controls. Slater cringed, worried that his forces were damaging components that could be used to upgrade his derelict. Nevertheless, he couldn’t salvage anything unless he wiped out the defenders. The bridge crew was the most important to take out; if they separated from the boarding hatch, he would lose not only all the potential salvage the vessel represented but also all his MOBS when they left the range of his core’s power supply.
The one shot that did hit its target was a lucky one, the orc falling to the deck with a steaming hole in his skull. The kobolds rushed onto the flight deck, blades extending from their arms as they closed. The drone moved forward but was too late to see the fight itself. Inside the flight deck, several panels smoked and sparked from the laser hits. Lying on the deck was the final orc, brutal wounds caused by the kobold arm blades evident on the body. Slater’s troops then separated and moved out to search the rest of the vessel.
Two more shots barked out in the distance, and the drone began to fly toward the sound of the fighting. Unlike Slater, these orcs didn’t bother to close most of the hatches on their vessel, allowing the drone easy access; it only had to detour a few times during its progress. Whether this negligence was due
to overconfidence in the boarding party’s abilities or just another example of the crew’s slovenly behavior, Slater couldn’t guess. The recon drone made it to the site of the most recent fighting. This time it was down in the engineering bay. A lone orc had been cornered and brought down by Slater’s forces. This was the last defender; the ship was his to consume.
Slater recalled his forces and set them back into defensive mode before tasking his drones to begin salvaging the vessel. He queued up production of another five drones, bringing his total drone count to twenty-five. He cut the pair of rats from his core room, two kobolds from the barracks, and one kobold from the shooting range to free up enough power for the new workers.
“What’s up with all the drones?” Private Long asked as the line of machines clacked through the shooting range on their way to the orc vessel.
“I’m going to break apart the orc ship to provide more raw materials for me to work with. Of course, if you needed anything from the orc ship, let me know,” Slater replied, not sure what the humans would want on there. Frankly, he was feeling a little possessive over the salvage, not wanting the humans to make off with anything if he could help it. Slater suppressed the desire to have it all for himself, knowing it was the derelict’s programming talking and that he really did want to reward the humans for their assistance.
“No, we’ve been on orc vessels before. They’re typically dumps, and any gear they have other than their weapons has about a fifty-fifty chance of malfunctioning from all the abuse and poor maintenance that orcs are known for,” Lieutenant Camden told him.
“Captain Slater, can you link me to one of your drones as they salvage the ship? I find it fascinating what they can do,” Doctor Cheng asked.
Slater was finding that he liked the doctor and her inquisitive mind, choosing to send her both the normal feed of one of his drones and a zoomed-in feed showing the breakdown of the vessel at the molecular level.