The admiral gave Para a rather stern look, and then he actually did smile, adding a bonus chuckle. “Duly noted. You can have the bird.”
He meant we could have the S3. As if on que, within hours of the meeting, two sensors detected energy signatures consistent with the Empire fleet. Only two sensors! There might not be a next time. The game was on.
***
THE BIG SQUEEZE
Shockwave quickly sorted out our operative roles as we prepared to deploy. Para, of course, had the trigger position. With tracker in hand, Para would bypass the energetic shielding of one of the enemy dreadnaughts by gravity walking through the ship’s deadly drive wake, and push through the ship’s warp bubble, so the transponder could quantum-leap to the hull. Easy as that. Yeah. At least she would be hidden from sensors in the drive wake. It really was the best plan available.
I would take lead position on the operation and provide cloak when needed. This was a fluid op that would require fast reaction, so we decided it was necessary to go through the bother of a cortical scribe. With the cort-scribe, when I called Shark-1 through Shark-10, our top-10 directive list, the entire team would react, snap, that fast. It would take a very conscious effort from another team member to halt the action.
The S3 hold was small, so there would be room for only one other operative in the field. Okay, the thing could hold two average sized people in suits. So, why not jam three in there? It seemed to be a necessity. We needed porting, cloaking, and the trigger. Rock or Roll would be the field port-tech while the other twin tethered the port from home base. They could handle the combined mass of the team and the S3 as long as Para didn’t invert.
That got the boys fighting over who would go and who would stay behind. Crud! It would be horribly cramped with three of us squeezed into the tiny hold of the S3, and they were fighting over who would get to go. They should have been fighting over who would get to stay at base.
Rock pointed out it was he who had talked the general into giving over the S3. Para put her hands on her hips and wondered out loud if she had even been in the room with Rock and the admiral. Since it was evidently Rock who had saved the day, he ought to at least recall that it was an admiral, rather than a general, that he had convinced.
That bit of noise from Para gave Roll a little leverage as he suggested he and Rock should arm wrestle to see who would have the privilege to be the accompanying porter. They are identical in strength! To determine the winner of an arm-wrestling contest would take hours, maybe days. It was like they were ten years old again. Finally, the boys gave over to my suggestion that they draw cards, highest card wins. Roll won. Good old dumb, or lucky, Roll, the 200-pound lug. Boys! And Grandad... Tee, just sat and smiled the entire time. At least Fierce was smart enough to stay out of it.
In another timely display, some deep space sensors happily chirped over the QuIM system that the fleet position had been determined. That prompted a dutiful chief petty officer, or some such, to message Tee that the operation was a go. Tee smiled first at dumb-luck Roll, then Para and me. Suit up!
With the field team ready to go, Tee and Fierce took their ease, meaning to stand vigil as the mission unfolded. Rock took a seat in his favorite chair to ready himself for an extended period of concentration, as he tethered the port and added his lift capacity to that of Roll throughout the mission. We had our Shockwave send-off rah-rah moment, and the field team ported to the S3.
Squeezing into the tiny hold of the little ship proved to be even worse than I anticipated. Para wished we had brought some grease. Seriously, it was crazy hard getting into that missile hold wearing vac-suits. Sure, we had tried a couple of practice runs in a similarly sized compartment. But at that point we were amped up and in a hurry. Deep breath, let it out, squeeze.
When we were settled, I would most certainly have punched Roll as hard as I could if there had been enough room to take a shot. He actually asked if there was enough time to port back home and see if Rock wanted to trade spots. See? Boys!
The Empire ships were well out of sensor range by the time we ported in, but we knew their course vector. It was part of our initial plan to have the Empire fleet spot us, so we remained uncloaked as Roll chose a velocity only nominally higher than our enemy. He engaged a warp bubble, and we sped along on an intercept course, hoping to set up a workable situation that would get Para into the drive wake of a dreadnaught.
Our ship was evidently spotted at an incredible distance. I can usually interpret scanner readouts well enough. But the readings seemed odd as a dreadnaught came at us in a relativistic game of chicken. Empire fleet command had been notified of the trailing Earth ship; a single ship; a very small ship. No weapons. Stupid humans, thinking they could trail an Imperial Battle Group to an emergency portal gate.
They dispatched a dreadnaught, which certainly appeared to be on an attack run. We had only just arrived, and the mission was already getting tricky. It would be necessary to play a game of cat and mouse with the dreadnaught and avoid being GRASERed into atomic dust.
Roll went bubble-off, chose a right-angle vector, entered .9C, and went bubble-on. The dreadnaught soon adjusted course, cutting the hypotenuse to run us down. Roll eyed the scanner display. We knew the effective range of a GRASER. Roll went bubble-off. The dreadnaught also bubbled-off, coming close to overrunning us.
It happened so quickly.
I shouted Shark-2. Roll moved to set the S3 on capture protocol; we would port and cloak away from the S3, to the opposite side of the dreadnaught. The S3 would likely explode, but we would be protected by the energetic shielding of the enemy ship. We would also be in a position close enough to the drive wake for Para to gravity walk into the destructive drive waves to bypass the shielding and set the tracker.
But something was wrong. “Roll, why are we still inside this tin can, when we’re about to get smoked either by capture protocol or dreadnaught?”
Roll was busy flipping switches and dialing dials. “The good news, S3 capture protocol won’t allow a detonation while we’re still in the vicinity. The bad news, we can’t port. The Primers must have enveloped us in a dampening field. I could try to port us onto the ship.”
I blinked as a very bright light streamed into the capsule. It was all very strange as my mind tried to piece together the sequence of events. A large section of the S3 hull had vaporized, then the bright light, which quickly shifted to total darkness. It felt as though I was floating, though I was unable to move. Then I was standing at attention, apparently still in my vac-suit.
I called again for light, but my suit didn’t respond. Was I blind? Was I dead? No, not dead. I could hear myself breathing. My tactile senses were working. It was like I was entombed in my suit. Wouldn’t you know, I had recently watched a movie that had an Iron Maiden scene. Deep breaths. In. Out.
“Roll. Para. Respond!” Nothing.
***
Tee sat down as his knees threatened to give way. Had it finally happened? No. They had to be alive, even though the S3 QuIM reports had stopped abruptly as the dreadnaught approached.
Rock was hunched over, hands covering his face. “He’s just, gone. The quantum tie to Roll was severed. I can’t feel him.”
Tee stood up. “We have to get eyes on them. Vac-suits. We need suits. You can port us to the last position of the S3?”
Rock shook his head. “And then what? Shake our fists at the dreadnaught? Sorry, sir. Didn’t mean it like that. We’re 30-seconds into loss of contact.”
Tee started pacing. “They’re alive. The crew of the dreadnaught captured them. They’re inside the ship’s energetic shielding. That has to be what happened. If we had another S3...”
Fierce had a thought. “What about the capsule?”
Tee’s shoulders drooped. “Don’t you remember? The Pirate Queen destroyed your capsule.”
Rock pointed at Tee. “True-up. But we loved that capsule; had some guys build an exact copy. It still doesn’t have an engine, though I can manage a port
if we keep the weight down. Play cat and mouse. Hope they don’t just blast us.”
Tee was thinking fast. “They’ll pull us in for a close look, if we have no weapons. We’ll take the capsule and a nice nuke.”
Fierce shook his head. “No weapons, remember? They’ll detect the fission-ables.”
It was Tee’s turn to shake his head. “Not this one. Small nuke, quantum cloaking technology similar to that used with the InnerEar transponder. Very expensive. We want to appear harmless; out of our element.”
Rock shook his head. “I like the idea of a nuke but we don’t have time to go through the requisitioning process.”
Tee pulled his pid. “Leave that to me. Fierce, grab some vac-suits. Rock, warm up the capsule and then come back and get us.” He looked at his pid. “General Whitehall, emergency, highest priority.”
After a quick explanation, the general seemed reluctant. “First you want our only S3 and now you want the prototype port-a-bomb? Do you know the pricetag...?”
Tee was a little worried. “General, it’s the kids.”
The general took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah, I know. Okay. I’ll send the coordinates to Rock’s pid and let them know to expect him. You better at least bring back the S3, intact.”
Tee sounded relieved. “Thank you, general. We’ll try.”
***
A golden tint. I was able to see again, but it was as though everything had a gold glow. It was a relief that I could move again, though it was difficult, like I was trying to move inside a jar of golden molasses. There was my arm. I flexed my fingers. Slowly. Then my suit dissolved, prompting me to scream. The golden goop, no it was more amber colored, moved into my lungs. Drowning. I tried to calm myself even as I prayed what I assumed would be my last prayer. No. Still conscious. Oxygenated goop? The goop lightened, allowing me to see the room in an amber tint.
There was Para. And Roll. I could hear, in a muffled sort of way.
There were three Primers that I could see, in odd gear. Hazmat suits, no doubt. They looked so young as they chattered at each other nonstop. The Shockwave team had all learned to understand Prime. Know thy enemy, know thyself, and you need not fear the result of one hundred battles. Sun Tzu.
The Primers seemed to be scowling as they talked about our hair and all the bugs that must live there. Something like that; they were talking so fast. Roll gave them a slow-motion hand gesture. They backed away; then started chittering at one another, laughing at their unfounded fear.
I tried to talk. “We’ll see if your fear is unfounded, or not.”
Interesting. The words came out sounding almost normal. I tried a quick movement, which proved impossible as the goop held me tight. Fast motion equaled no motion.
My words got them chittering again. One of them pulled a wand. I had seen what those could do and braced for the coming pain. But another one of the lab brats, the one nearest my prison, chastised her and pushed her arm down, but waggled a warning finger at me. I guess that’s what the waggle meant.
Para didn’t waste the distraction. The goop surrounding her quivered as she inverted. I can just tell when she inverts. She looks the same, but I can tell. Something was about to happen. I looked at Roll and made a slow hand signal. Port? He shook his head slowly. Para had a look of concentration. She was probably trying to break through the goop. Nothing was happening. I tried to push through the stuff, moving nice and slow, but could only move a few centimeters.
From my perspective, the goop enclosure seemed to be in the form of a large cube, maybe ten feet on a side. One of the lab brats walked up to my goop and hit me in the stomach. Her movements weren’t hindered at all. And she was right there, inches from me. Not much of a punch, girl. She pointed at something which prompted her associate to hand over a rod of some sort. She poked again, harder. I’d have doubled-up if the goop would have let me; almost threw up. The twit laughed at me. Primers laugh through their noses, managing to produce the most disgusting obnoxious sound.
More chittering. She laughed again at the horror in my eyes when her accomplice slapped a nasty looking instrument into her hand. The thing looked very much like a keyhole saw. My imagination took off, contemplating her plans as the device whirled in an ugly dance. She turned for a moment to chat with the rest of her nasty little team.
The others took similar instruments and turned to their assigned human projects. My only solace was knowing what the little darling would encounter when she tried to cut into inverted Para. Then, my tormenter turned back with a look of concentration mixed with a twist of anticipation and the knowledge of pleasures to come. A typical sadistic Primer.
***
The seating was tight in the small 3-seat capsule, with the guys, Tee’s .50 cal., two Longarm blasters, and the bomb. Thankfully, it really was a small bomb, as Fierce gingerly balanced it on his lap. Tee was having a harder time trying to settle in with a Logan sensor box in his lap. Evidently, the guys had determined the little guns didn’t count as weapons.
Tee managed a smile for Fiece, then noticed his concerned look. “Don’t worry, the thing’s tight, no radiation leaks.” He looked at Rock. “I’ve got the Logan primed to give this tone. Listen. It will chime like that if the enemy ship hits us with a fire control sensor lock. Chime equals immediate port. Check?”
Rock flipped a final switch. “Copy that.”
Tee sighed deeply. “They’ll scan us. The Longarms and my .50 cal. won’t concern them. They won’t detect the bomb. We’ll hope they decide to pull us inside their shielding. When we’re in, they’ll do something to immobilize us.
“Rock, as soon as we’re inside their shields, port the capsule over near the shield projection array, then onto the ship. This nuke doesn’t have much of a yield, so we want it close, to be sure it takes down the shields. Then we can pull off our rescue and port away.
“Let’s untangle in the reactor control room. You’ve still got the location plotted in that big brain of yours from our last dreadnaught adventure?”
Rock smiled. “Can do, sir. And we port in 3, 2, 1...”
The rescue team untangled with the capsule within visual range of the dreadnaught, inviting an immediate and comprehensive scan. Each of the team members locked on the target with their Ivees and magnified. There was the S3. Motion. A tingling sensation. The capsule was being drawn toward the dreadnaught. The Logan display indicated the drawing force was a gravitational field, though the tint of the readout disclosed there was quputer speculation involved. The machine wasn’t exactly sure what forces were involved.
There were no harmful or disabling energies detected. Then all the systems went down. EMP. Tee made a point of smiling and patting the bomb in Fierce’s lap. Electromagnetic disturbances wouldn’t affect the bomb.
A concerned look crossed Tee’s face. “Rock, without instruments we won’t know when we’re through the shielding.”
Rock rubbed his suit gloves in a psychological warm-up routine. “Not to worry. I can see the shield emitter array. Let me concentrate. As soon as we cross the shield, we’ll port. Capsule to hull, then us to reactor room. Be ready. It will be a fast port series. You’ll be disoriented, for sure.”
As the team untangled in the reactor control room. the dreadnaught heaved from the massive explosion. The disorientation of the flash-port series combined with the motion from the explosion slammed Tee and Fierce to the deck. Rock took a knee. Warning sirens sounded. Internal hatches closed to cut off the damaged section. The bomb had a little more pop than expected, evidently causing a hull breach. All the better.
Fierce looked as though he had lost something as he turned to Rock. “I can’t seem to find my gun. Hope you didn’t forget it in the port?”
Rock pointed to the floor where it had slid under a terminal. That brought a sheepish grin from Fierce. “Oh. Thanks. Should I leave this in place of the gun?”
Tee nodded. The sensor-mine Fierce was arming would certainly cause additional mayhem as well as destr
oy the reactor tracking display. “We’ll leave the hatch ajar as an invitation.”
Tee unwrapped an electronic harness from a shielding envelope and swapped it with the burned-out harness on the Logan. The EMP burst was impressive. He smiled and handed the Logan over to Fierce, who slung it over his pack. Now to find the rest of the team.
***
Viz’ tormenter was taking pleasure in the moment as she weaved her own psychological horror story. The Primer demonstrated her absolute control as Viz began to spin around and around in the goop, finally stopping with her back toward the monster. Another voice command caused the goop to immobilize Viz even as she heard the horrible whir of the cutting instrument change slightly in tone as it moved into the goop.
She wasn’t able to look away or close her eyes as the mirrored hull section showed the device move slowly through the goop until it was hidden by her body. As the blades neared her skin, she could feel ripples along her back, magnifying over her right kidney. Then the screaming started.
Viz was able to move again. She was sure the entire ship had rocked. A variety of instruments and odd devices were strewn across the deck. Sirens were howling. The evil Primer was screaming, writhing on the floor in a pool of her own blood. The pieces to the mystery slowly fell into place. One of the other monsters had stumbled and spun around when the ship rocked.
The one who had caused the harm kept glancing back and forth, from the mess on the floor, to the bloody saw in her hand. Viz couldn’t read the look on her face; was it a look of horror, or wonder? Then her accomplice hissed a few words and bent down to examine the one curled up on the deck. But she did nothing to help, as the injured Primer pled and bled, and the other moved to the door looking very much like a lookout.
***
Fierce finished programming the bomblet, set it in a concealed location, and added an observation. “It’s a big ship. How will we find them?”
Tee sounded certain. “The Primers will have brought them to the lab. Midship, one deck down. Rock?”
Invasion: Journal Three (Shockwave Book 3) Page 2
