by BL Craig
“Took rare mineral samples from my office and used them to prop open an engine port,” Alex chimed in.
Everyone looked at William who shrugged. “He hasn’t shot me out of an airlock,” he said staring directly at Sarah and the Captain.
“Alright, Butcher pick a movie. Everyone, convene in the mess at 20:00.”
* * *
…
* * *
With Sarah’s help, William picked an action buddy comedy with decent reviews. Sarah insisted on putting on a pair of fleecy blue pajamas featuring pictures of fluffy flying space squids. He had never seen her wear them before. “Do those come in my size?” he asked.
“I see you as more of a flying space pig person. But I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Is there a dress code? I don’t have pajamas.”
“You’ll get a pass this time, but you should really procure some appropriate loungewear.”
When they walked into the mess, William was surprised to see that most of the tables and chairs had been pushed to the back of the room. The floor was covered in blankets and cushions from the conference room chairs. There were even a few mattresses from the empty cabins laid out. Sheets had been draped over the remaining chairs—and one maintenance drone—creating a tent effect. “Are we ten years old?” William asked, laughing.
“Don’t disrespect movie night.” Sarah moved to the bank of cabinets in the mess and pulled out an air popper and bag of popcorn. Soon, the room was filled with the smell of butter and the sound of exploding corn seeds.
William hesitated, not knowing if the mattresses were already claimed. “Sit,” the Captain waved toward a mattress. “We normally only do this with the Mikki crew, but we’re long overdue for some stupid fun.” She wore a shirt that proclaimed, “Captains do it in space!” and featured a picture of an adorable small fuzzy green alien wearing a uniform hat.
Sarah came around, clutching a massive bowl stacked with smaller bowls. She passed out all but one small empty bowl and retained the huge stainless-steel bowl she normally used for mixing agar. It was full of popcorn. She flopped down next to William and began gustily chewing popcorn and then, yes, spitting it out into another smaller bowl she kept to the side. It was disgusting.
“I think that is worse than the peanut butter knife in the glass of water,” he whispered into her ear.
“Don’t look if you don’t like it,” she said around a mouth full of popcorn.
Addy and Alex arrived, sitting together on a mattress. Brooks took the seat next to the Captain. “Ok, Butcher, start the movie!” the Captain commanded.
William flicked the film from his data pad to the display and dimmed the lights.
There were lots of explosions and quippy dialogue. The crew turned out to be big talkers, jeering at the characters and making fun of everything from the hair styles to the hackneyed one-liners. Sometimes they talked over the movie about random, unrelated things. Partway through, Sarah pushed away her popcorn and laid her head in William’s lap. He played with her hair, twisting it lightly around his fingers. The protagonists got into a fight, separated, and then, just as they were about to come back together and declare their platonic love, the lights went up. “Gate Alert. Gate Alert.” Declared the ship speakers.
“Alpha Protocol,” snapped the Captain. The mess was abandoned as the crew bolted in sock feet to the bridge.
* * *
…
* * *
The crew stood at the back of the bridge, watching the display. The visuals were coming from their own cameras along with the streaming comms traffic from the Stenet’s feed. The Captain pushed past William and moved toward her chair, “Roll back two minutes and replay at double speed. Crew, take your stations.”
William took his seat and watched the display. The asteroid floated out of the gate, its form warping as it emerged around the great disc, far larger than the already massive gate. Before even a tenth of the mass had cleared the gate, it began striking the mines. They flared up, first one at a time and then in pairs and then in waves. By the time a third of the ovoid rock had relentlessly rolled through the gate, the explosions were so massive the light blotted out the surroundings, making the area around the gate look like a miniature star. The Tilly’s display automatically adjusted the contrast so the surrounding ships and even the planet were just dim shadows next to the burning ball.
The asteroid slowed down, and William realized that the playback had caught up with real time.
“Alex,” said the Captain, “tap into the fleet comms and do your best to parse out the important information. Perlin gave me the fleet encryption keys. I’m sending them to you.”
The ship comms cracked to life and voices could be heard.
Slowly and inexorably, the asteroid cleared the minefield and barreled toward the fleet’s port flank. The various fleet navigators shouting over the comms attempted to coordinate a rapid repositioning as the asteroid bore down on them. The mines had done nothing to slow its progress. A mass of engines became visible as the last of the asteroid cleared the gate. William could see the engine output adjust as the asteroid turned slightly toward the center of the fleet and away from the planet.
“I have the engines spun up, Captain. Ready for short jump,” Addy reported.
Reminded of his own duty, William checked the surrounding space. The Tilly was well out of the activity. It would take them 20 minutes at sub-light to reach the . . . battle? flattening? giant minesweeper? An FTL hop would have them there in a moment. Addy had repartitioned the drive capacitors. They could jump three times before needing a partial recharge. William plotted several possible jumps and created shortcuts for them.
With the final straggling mines exploded and dimmed down, William could see that the front end of the asteroid was glowing molten hot. From behind the giant mass, a wave of hundreds of tiny crafts poured out of the gate. Alex put up a view from a fleet ship on the monitor and zoomed in. It was clear that someone at fleet had already been into the captured dock ship’s data banks. The fleet feed had labels and data on most of the Rannit ships emerging from the gate. Acceleration specs, mass, standard crew compliment, and purpose were labeled on each ship displayed on the battle map. William noticed that they were all civilian ships. Ore haulers, personnel transports, and personal yachts made up the vast majority of the first wave. They dodged around the asteroid in all directions and headed straight for the retreating human fleet. The Rannit wave fired haphazardly, or not at all. Those that did fired with rail guns no more effective than the Tilly’s lost gun. The ships were pouring on speed, too much acceleration for engaging the enemy directly.
The fleet opened up and the Rannit ships crashed into a wall of fire. They died tens at a time. For a moment, it looked like the Navy would whittle them down to nothing. When the smaller Rannit ships did not slow or change course William started to worry that they would all be destroyed. He realized that he wanted them to live—not to destroy the fleet, he had friends on those ships, but not to die either. As William was wrestling with this moment of internal conflict, the first ship to break through the Navy guns crashed headlong into the Indigo Star. The collision sheared off a huge chunk of the larger ship, obliterating the Rannit vessel entirely. The Indigo Star was just starting to tumble when three more Rannit vessels struck in quick succession. The size of the resulting explosion almost certainly meant it went down with all hands. As the shockwave dispersed, another horde of motley suicide vessels poured out of the gate.
Frantic orders came over the comms and William could see the explosions as the human fleet began launching missiles at the smaller craft. The Rannit ships continued charging the Navy vessels, dying by rail gun and missile alike. They traded several dozen ships for every strike, but they were forcing the Navy to retreat. William watched a third wave come through the gate and was less conflicted. The humans would shortly be overwhelmed. As the Navy fell back from the gate, the fleet gained more room and time to obliterate the new shi
ps joining the battle.
“It’s suicide,” breathed John. “Will it work?” He looked at the Captain.
“The fleet is using missiles now, that will blunt the tide—but at that rate of fire they’ll exhaust the magazines before they run out of Rannit yachts to shoot. The question is what shape the fleet will be in at that point. The fleet is falling back from the gate, which will give it more time to engage each wave. It doesn’t look good, though, and I suspect this in only act one.” To emphasize her point, she tapped her fingers on her console, directing their attention to the next wave of ships that came through the gate. They were larger and appeared better armed. They followed the asteroid’s path but did not accelerate. The suicide ships remaining from the first wave had turned and were preparing another pass from the flank, while the second wave was still passing through the fleet. The Rannit vessels would be in as much danger of hitting each other as the enemy, but they were forcing the human fleet to split fire between two fronts. The new Rannit ships, these ones real war vessels, were taking position between the gate and the planet.
“It’s a screen,” said the Captain, in a low voice, but William could still hear her even over the assault of comms from the fleet. Admiral Shen was ordering the fleet to tighten up and concentrate fire on the remaining suicide vessels. The plan was to take them out before moving on to the screening ships, if they survived. The Tilly had an excellent view of the whole field of battle, nearly behind the gate as they were. Their display collated all the data and highlighted both fleet and enemy ships. That made it easy for the Tilly crew to see the next wave of even larger ships surrounded by small fighters emerge from the gate. They darted out of the gate at perilous speeds and on the far side of the screen, headed toward the planet.
“Are they going to bomb the surface?” gasped Sarah watching the ships headed toward the planet.
“No, the angle’s wrong for orbital bombardment and they’re breaking hard. I think they’re planning rapid descent.”
“Is that wise, putting troops on the surface with our fleet still here?”
The suicide ships were taking a different tactic now, dodging and weaving. Making perilous turns. William had a hope that they might be VI controlled, given the gees they must be pulling.
“Captain, Cerberus Fleet is here!” Alex announced.
The view on the display shifted to the edge of the battlefield where the large cruiser and three destroyers appeared. It seemed ridiculous that a handful of ships could make any difference.
For a moment, the ships simply hovered over the field. Then they blipped out of existence and appeared a breath later between the Navy fleet and the gate, flanking the Rannit fighters. Sleek Shinigami fighters peeled off of the four ships like ants pouring out of a mound and engaged the Rannit ships. They outmatched the speed and maneuverability of the Rannit craft and boasted superior guns. As soon as the fighters were engaged, the cruiser and the destroyers jumped again, appearing on the far side of the fleet, unleashing their multiple massive rail guns on the second swarm of Rannit craft heading back toward the Fleet. Now, it was the alien ships that were taking fire from both sides and were, once again being torn to shreds.
The Navy comms were alive with confusion and delight when they realized the new ships were on their side.
The Cerberus fleet fighters had dispatched most of the Rannit ships and were now weaving through the human Navy, picking off stragglers still engaged with the fleet.
“Alex, put the screening Rannit ships back in center display.”
The vessels headed toward the planet did look like transports, guarded by fighters.
“Butcher, where does it look like they’re landing?” asked the Captain.
William checked the trajectory and pinpointed a spot near the equator. He threw it up on the display. “That’s the capitol city, Captain.”
“It’s also where the Rannit captives are being held.” She rotated the display, tapping into the planetary satellites. Indeed, the transports were landing near the internment camps on the far side, away from the human settlements.
“It’s not an attack” said the Captain. “It’s an evacuation! Alex, get me Admiral Shen, now!” On the com, William heard orders to move the human fleet to engage the screen. Cerberus was still cleaning up the Rannit fighters.
“It’s Dunkirk!” William blurted. “Look, those ships, there’s no uniformity. Most of the guns have been added as an afterthought. The transports they look like transports, commercial not military.”
“Dunkirk?” Sarah asked.
“World War II. The British used a fleet of private ships, pleasure crafts, and fishing boats to evacuate over 300,000 troops pinned down on the beaches in northern France by the Germans. They’re just trying to get their people back.”
“Naval command, this is Hades Fleet ship Mictecacihuatl,” the Captain repeated to the com. “We need to get a message to Admiral Shen. From our position, we believe the Rannit are attempting an evacuation. There will be civilian Rannit on those transports when they leave the surface. Repeat: this is an evacuation. We attach our imaging.”
“Shit, Alex, keep that on a repeat. Copy to Perlin. Maybe they will listen to him. Get me the colony leadership.” She started her message without waiting. “Mirada leadership, be advised, inbound Rannit ships are attempting evacuation. Do not engage. Please abandon positions where the Rannit captives are being held. Repeat: this is an evacuation, do not escalate. Put that one on repeat, too, Alex.”
“What in the hell is the fleet doing?” asked the Captain incredulously.
“They’re moving toward the screen,” answered William automatically, before his mind realized the question had been rhetorical.
“Captain. The Admiral has ordered the fleet to engage the Rannit. I’ve heard no counter command,” William said.
“The Stenet has cut off our communications. Our messages are no longer being relayed,” Alex announced.
“What? Why?” demanded the Captain.
“They are not speaking to us either. Hold on. Let me look at their comms traffic. I was getting everything they were getting.” Alex paused briefly going back through the log. “Shen ordered them to stop our message and not forward anything else.”
“What is she playing at? How long until the cruisers are back in range of the screen?”
“20 minutes, Captain.”
“We need to get a message to the Morrigan. Butcher, can we jump in close enough for our jury-rigged comms to work?”
“Morrigan has jumped three times in the last ten minutes, Captain. If we jump in there, we’re likely to cause a collision or just be out of location.”
“We need to get to the station. Jump us back there now, Butcher.”
William already had the plot laid, “FTL jump in 5 . . .4 . . .3 . . .2 . . .1.”
Almost instantly, the gate way station was just off to port.
“Mirada station, this is Mictecacihuatl actual. We need to relay communication with Morrigan actual. Right now! We have information critical to the battle.”
Alex looked back at Elva. “Captain, just a guess, but I think the Navy has taken control of the communications hub. The station is not acknowledging our hail. They must have received the same orders as the Stenet. I can try for a local patch to Administrator Perlin’s data pad, but it will take me time to find the address and hop the standard comms traffic.”
“Can’t we just dock with the station?” Sarah asked.
“Not without authorization from the station. The causeway won’t extend, the docking arms won’t latch on, the docking beacons won’t light. It’s not automated. There is a three or four person crew involved,” said William.
“Suggestions?” the Captain asked of the crew. “Can we rig up a temporary long-range com?”
“I don’t see how,” John replied.
“Maybe we just shoot William out the airlock?” said Addy.
They glared at him.
“What, it worked last time? Tw
ice, actually, if you count the Rannit in Rover 1. Three times, if you count Leyla.” Addy said unrepentantly.
The Captain looked thoughtful. “Where is the nearest shuttle bay?”
William pulled up the schematic and put it on the display. “The doors are closed.”
“John,” said the Captain, “can you crack that door in an EVA suit?”
* * *
…
* * *
“Captain, I’m a transport specialist, a glorified bus driver bot. You can’t really mean for us to fly the Tilly in there,” protested William.
“Butcher, you are much better than that. The flying you did during the ambush was some of the best I’ve ever seen. Maybe the best. You realize that until we were fighting for our lives you had barely had to maneuver the ship outside of simple course correction, right? You tracked everything with no help, or orders, while I was running the guns. Kept us going in the right direction, kept the guns on target, kept the corvettes off us. If we’d been a little less outgunned, you’d have gotten us out of there. The Navy wasted your talent. I’m a better Captain than that.
“Make up your mind, people,” John said over the suit comms. “I’m almost through the fire wall, and the outer door controls are just about mine.”
“Do it,” said the Captain.
“OK. The station will be trying to take control back as soon as they realize what’s up,” John said. “They’re opening now.”
William watched as the enormous doors slid open and the atmosphere vented. Lights came on inside the bay and presumably, the inner doors shut to prevent depressurizing the whole station.
The shuttle bay was meant for small ships, not something the size of the Tilly, which could hold a small ship, like a shuttle in its own large hold. The doors were moving quickly, but they were so large it was taking time.
