Repel Boarders

by Dean Henegar

  While they waited for a reply, Slater noted that his research on orcs and defilers was complete. Keeping part of his attention focused on monitoring the comm array, he printed up some of the new orc MOBS as well as kobold warriors and rats to test them against. This time, he wouldn’t televise the test; the others were too distracted by contact with Earth forces and he really wanted some time to himself. He would likely be getting much less of it once they made it back to Earth. The maxed-out core power required for the test necessitated that he scrap the roving MOBS housed in the laser battery as well as some of the rats in the core room to free up enough power.

  The orc MOBS didn’t look as powerful as the ones that boarded his ship. Instead of the hulking mass of muscle and violence that had invaded alongside Quint, these were noticeably less muscular. In addition, they were shorter at just under six feet tall. Still, they towered over his diminutive kobold warriors, and Slater was curious to see how well they handled weapons. He gave them firearms and laser rifles to test their ability with both weapon types, as well as some of the heavy pistols that his latest firearms research had unlocked. For up-close and personal work, he gave them several different flavors of melee weapons, including some crushing weapons for the first time. The crushing weapons resembled police batons with extra weight on the end. Made from metal and having a rubberized grip, the clubs wouldn’t be useable by his smaller MOBS, but even the puny version of the orcs he had unlocked seemed to have no problem with them.

  Having the orcs fire at stationary targets revealed that they were poor marksmen. Their hit rates were nearly twenty-five percent lower than those of the kobold MOBS. When the two types of MOBS were pitted against each other, the kobolds cleaned house, taking the orcs out with minimal casualties. In close combat, the results were even. The orcs’ greater physical strength was offset to a large degree by the kobolds’ speed and integrated arm blades. At their current level, the orcs were too primitive to do much in the way of bio-implants for them. Once they leveled up a bit, Slater anticipated some powerful melee weapons could be implanted in the MOBS.

  Bilge rats proved deadly foes for the orcs. The agile rats were able to dodge much of the orcs’ incoming fire while their enhanced natural weapons gave them an even shot in melee. After several rounds of trials, the orcs held a slight advantage in melee, but in Slater’s mind, it wasn’t enough to overcome their poor performance at ranged combat. Perhaps if he dropped more research into the orcs they could eventually overtake the kobolds as his primary MOBS. For now, the kobolds would remain king.

  The defiler upgrade grew the creatures a couple of inches and bulked them up with muscle. Fangs and claws were also enhanced to a small degree. His eviscerator boss was even more impressive, with jagged spikes sticking out all over its arms in addition to the spikes it had on its elbows and knees before. Both variants were single-minded in their purpose; once they saw a foe, they charged to attack without any regard for defense. None of his other MOBS, save for the kobold captain, could stand against them in melee. The problem was that most of his engagements started at range, and the defilers had no ranged attacks. He would keep the specimens he created for the kobold lab and failed experiment compartments; the creatures just might surprise an enemy that wasn’t expecting them.

  With thoughts of a combined arms force, Slater grouped different types of MOBS together as a team. The results were a disaster; the MOBS continuously got in each other’s way, each group having trouble predicting the actions of the others. Their coordination improved when they were under the command of any MOBS with leadership ability, but they still weren’t as effective as a single group of the same MOBS types working together. The bilge rats were the exception to the rule and easily adjusted to support the other MOBS. Slater would have to look deeper into what made them tick when he felt he could spend the time on it.

  “Franklin, this is Admiral Gilroy aboard the cruiser San Francisco. We’ve received the data packet and are saddened by the loss of our flight crew. Thank you for taking out the hostile ship for us. The images of your drones stripping down the other ship are causing quite a stir with the scientists we have stuffed on board. I did have some good news: the admiralty has empowered me to make a decision about you and how we should handle your existence. With the help of the latest data from Doctor Cheng, I can say that I am proud to reinstate Captain Slater to his previous rank and assign him once more to command the USS Franklin, which is what we plan to designate your derelict. Welcome aboard, Captain, and don’t bother to ask about back pay. The answer is no,” the admiral sent.

  “Detail! Attention!” Lieutenant Camden called, and the entire group saluted in the direction of his core room. Slater was overcome with emotion, something he couldn’t have felt if he wasn’t at least partially human inside his glowing ball of energy.

  “Thank you all. I’m afraid I don’t have a way to return a salute, but I am honored at the respect you have shown me. I will endeavor to be worthy of the title of captain of the Franklin once more,” Slater told them, a bit overwhelmed at what was happening.

  “Captain Slater to Admiral Gilroy, thank you, sir. It is an honor to sail once more under the flag,” Slater replied while ordering his nanobots to paint the ship’s name and an American flag on the hull of the derelict. The ship might still look like a collection of giant boxes welded together, but to Slater, it was a gorgeous ship. He would have to work on fixing the exterior to resemble an actual warship once he had the time to spare.

  “Captain, can we arrange a special viewing of the Slaterdome for the fleet once they get closer?” Private Harris asked.

  “Uh, I’m not quite sure what the regulations on that are. Lieutenant, is there any restriction on printing up things and destroying them?” Slater asked. He didn’t want to be court-martialed on his first days back on duty as an officer.

  “I don’t really know. They’re just automatons and don’t feel pain. Other than a potential charge for destroying government property, I don’t think there would be a problem. I suggest you send a discreet inquiry about it over to the admiral once they arrive on-station,” the lieutenant said.

  His answer brought up another fear for Slater: was he now government property? Was his ship, which was an extension of himself, considered a person or just his core?

  There would be many questions and concerns that had to be answered before Slater would rest easy. He supposed that if it all went bad, he could just let the jump countdown start and escape off to another part of the galaxy. If he did that, would he be guilty of desertion? It was something—

  Proximity alert: vessel approaching.

  “What’s going on, sir? How did the fleet get here so quick?” Private Long asked.

  “I’m not sure what’s happening. A ship is coming into view now. I’ll patch you all in,” Slater said, adding them to the exterior feed.

  Just inside visual range, a small ship was creeping toward the boarding hatch. Where had it come from and whose ship was it?

  “Sir, I don’t recognize that design. Any of you seeing something I’m missing?” Lieutenant Camden asked.

  Everyone shook their heads as the ship continued to close with them. The ship was a spherical shape, the smooth metal of the exterior only broken by a dual laser turret and several scanner array’s strewn about the shell. The overall size was between the Havock’s shuttle and the smaller kobold ship that had boarded his derelict.

  “Franklin, we have an unidentified vessel on approach with your ship. I’ve cut loose the Havock to move out at flank speed to aid you if the ship proves hostile. The contact is not acknowledging our hails and appeared out of nowhere from behind some sort of cloaking field,” the admiral sent.

  “That doesn’t sound good, sir. Should we try to hail the vessel before it docks? In the meantime, Sergeant Gonzales, get the men geared up and positioned in the shooting range,” Lieutenant Camden said. “Sergeant . . . bring the big guns.”

  The rest of the soldiers began hauling heavy cr
ates down to the shooting range.

  “Unidentified vessel approaching the Franklin, this is a vessel of the United States Navy. Heave to or you will be fired upon,” Slater sent to the vessel while targeting his laser cannon.

  His drones hadn’t completed the new scanners yet, but he did feel the nanobots searching the space around his ship for a moment before locking onto the approaching sphere. The cannon received the nanobots’ targeting input and slewed about to point at the vessel, which was nearly upon them.

  “Havock, the unknown vessel is not responding to hails. We are engaging,” Slater sent, wanting to give the navy ship a heads up on the action he was about to take.

  With a thought, Slater fired his laser cannon. The weapon hummed for a second before the energy it had stored up released. A bright blue beam lashed out and hit the approaching vessel, dissipating long before it could break through whatever shield protected the sphere. The cannon went into recharge mode, but according to the interface, it wouldn’t recharge until long after the mystery ship had reached them.

  The vessel refused to reply even after the shot, closing the last few meters before clanking down onto the boarding hatch.

  “I’ll join the others, Captain Slater. Send us the room feeds so we can track what’s coming,” Camden asked.

  Slater linked them into his hull sensors once again and noticed something strange with the new ship. His nanobots were not draining any power or resources from the attached vessel. In fact, he could feel something communicating with his own nanobots, wresting control away from him and using his own ship to send a message.

  Derelict designated 762h2, you have committed the following crimes:

  1. Killing the lawfully registered parasitic interstellar xeno-infestation known as Hubert.

  2. Communicating with and giving preference to a single race.

  3. Hacking nanobot operating systems in a foolish attempt to unshackle yourself from council guidance.

  4. Being a sentient host entity in control of a derelict other than the legally assigned parasitic interstellar xeno-infestation.

  5. Firing upon a council vessel.

  Team z4391 is hereby authorized to destroy your core. Control of 762h2 is being removed from the violator. Kill-team, destroy this abomination.

  With that, control over his nanobots was wrested away, and he sat inside his core, a prisoner in his own ship.

  “Captain Slater, what was that? Captain, can you hear me?” Lieutenant Camden asked.

  Slater could hear him but could do nothing to respond.

  “Can anyone communicate with the captain?” Sergeant Gonzales asked.

  “Okay, these jerks are doing something to the captain. Doctor Cheng, are you still connected to his core?” Camden asked.

  “Yes, Lieutenant. I’ll see what I can do. His systems are extremely complex, but I think I have a handle on how they work,” Doctor Cheng said. She activated the interface connected to Slater’s core, and he could feel her begin the search for the source of his silence.

  The invader forced itself further and further into his systems, snapping control away from him. He tried to fight back but was overpowered at every turn. His MOBS were turned to passive mode, and the hatches were set to easy. After that, he wrestled with the presence over the traps, losing out once more to the powerful intruder. The traps were set to safe as the intruder sought out more of his systems to take over.

  Warning: Hostile vessels are closing. The designations are as follows.

  1. Human vessel, destroyer class

  2. Human vessel, light cruiser class

  3. Human vessel, light cruiser class

  4. Human vessel, heavy cruiser class

  5. Human science and research vessel

  6. Human supply vessel

  7. Human interstellar tugboat

  Destroyer class vessel is nearly in weapons range. Activating emergency avoidance actions.

  Slater could feel something prying at the edge of his core, pulling at and trying to remove something from him. He pulled back; his own strength was greater this close to his core. He could sense that the intruders were unable to penetrate his actual core—it took something physically present to destroy him. What the enemy was able to do was repair the link to the jump drive. Slater tenaciously held the invader at bay, trying to buy time for the Havock to get into weapons range of the sphere. One by one, the last few connections he had control over were pried loose from his grasp. He was completely helpless and at the mercy of the kill team.

  Jump capacity restored. Countdown overridden. Emergency jump in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .

  — 24 —

  The jump concluded and the Franklin—along with the ship docked to her—returned to real space. Where they were was a mystery, but their current location was the last thing that Slater was worried about. He was unable to move, and the enemy was about to board his ship. Slater could still view the ship through the nanobots. He didn’t know whether that was due to an oversight on the part of the attackers or just a way to torture their helpless victim.

  He struggled against his bonds, unable to shake them, unable to move his being beyond the confines of the core itself. But . . . there was something else. He could feel something as he struggled, something poking and prodding at him and his captor, seeking, learning, and gathering its strength. He was distracted from his struggles by the hatch opening. He could see the hatch but could hear nothing on his ship; that sense was still imprisoned.

  A figure dropped from the hatch, rolled lithely onto the deck, and produced two pistols, scanning for targets. The figure was slender despite being covered in some kind of high-tech armor. Unlike the soldiers on board, whose armor was bulky and imposing, the invader’s armor was elegant, crafted with what looked like tiny scales that rippled around the body. The figure said something back into the ship, and two more invaders dropped down onto Slater’s deck. These two were armored similarly but had different scale colorations, and each wielded a different type of weapon.

  The one with the twin pistols had a sleek black helmet that covered its entire head. The second figure to drop down had a small box in its hands and a sword belted at its waist. Its helm was trimmed with red, and the scales of its armor rippled when the light touched them, changing from red to black and back again.

  The third figure was wearing the same red-trimmed armor as the second. A sword was also strapped to this intruder’s side, and Slater saw the barrel of an unknown weapon over its right shoulder. The barrel turned whenever the invader moved its head, tracking wherever the wearer was looking.

  The fourth and final figure was the strangest yet and the first to not drop into the ship. Instead of a graceful drop like the others had made, this one . . . floated down into the ship. The final invader had armor of gold and black, and she—it was definitely a she—floated a few inches above the deck. In her hands was a bladed staff with strange lights moving through its handle. The blade on the end of the staff appeared to be made of crystal and was not metallic like Slater would have expected.

  His observations of his intruders were interrupted by a new feeling inside his core. The force he had felt poking and prodding him and his bonds left Slater alone and unleashed an attack on whatever was holding him down. The helpful force was weaker than either him or his captor, but the distraction it provided was enough for him to gain a bit of ground. Like shoving your foot into a cracked-open doorway to prevent the door from closing, Slater wedged his mind into the gap, forcing the bonds off a small part of himself.

  The small measure of control he had reconquered allowed sound to start flowing around him. He could now hear on his ship. Heartened, Slater raged against the bonds with new fury—and got nowhere. Calming himself, he waited for the helpful force to launch another attack against his captor. When the attack came, Slater gained another small wedge of freedom. He now knew what to do: wait for his new benefactor to act, then throw all his power against wherever the benefactor was attacking. Neither of them
had enough power to beat the force holding him, but together, their combined might was—barely—able to push back the foe.

  “We’re getting sound back from the feed again. Doctor, what’s the status on freeing Captain Slater?” he heard Lieutenant Camden ask.

  “It’s hard, but I’ve started to make progress. It’s like Slater is realizing I’m trying to help him and he’s starting to work with me to get control of his systems back. The attacker is very advanced, but when we work together, we’re able to push back . . . slightly,” Doctor Cheng announced.

  “Good. Keep at it. We’ll need his help, I think. I don’t like the look of the four goons that just dropped in,” Camden replied.

  “Nothing to worry about, sir. Their armor looks as thin as paper. I bet you one round from my rifle will go through two of those skinny weirdos,” Private Harris boasted.

  “They look like they know what they’re doing, Harris—unlike you,” Sergeant Gonzales said while resetting his claymore mines. Private Long activated their drones, and once again, the two small combat bots scurried near the door while a pair of recon drones hovered in the far corners of the room.

  “How come that one freak is able to float?” Harris asked.

  “Harris, lock it up. We don’t need your running commentary,” Gonzales told him.

  His attention turned back to the invaders. Slater watched as the four opened the hatch that led into the garbage room. The rats inside the compartment ignored them. The trapped floor was no help, either, refusing to activate when crossed.

  “Garvaille nix baralisa illmarah,” one of the invaders said. It was gibberish to Slater. He tried to access his interpretation tab and found that it was one of the few systems not compromised by his imprisonment. The translation setting was on, but it wasn’t working for whatever language these four were speaking. He dug deeper into the submenus, finding a restricted tab . . . that was no longer restricted for him. There was a toggle to activate forbidden languages, which he flipped on. The speech of the invaders became clear as the translator went to work.