Terry parked his suit by the hatch leading to the ship’s interior and carefully powered down. He climbed out the back, glancing over his shoulder to see Third Squad doing as he had done—parking their suits close to the bulkhead in an orderly fashion and climbing out. The colonel bolted through the hatch and headed up the stairs.
“I’m bringing a big bucket of ‘fuck you’ to pour over your head.”
Chapter Seven
Terry and Micky stood side by side as they watched the replay on the main screen. “Smedley, work with Dionysus to see if there were any detectable energy surges before and after that ship’s appearance. Any changes in the visible and invisible spectrums. Tell me sensor systems were active during that time.”
“Shonna and Merrit were in a shuttle in close proximity to the ship when it appeared and collected a great deal of data before they lost power.”
“They what? How did they lose power? Where are they now?” Terry rapid-fired his questions.
“I believe they rammed the enemy ship. They lost power after that.”
“Who is going to get them?”
“The Harborian ships are hesitant to move because of the enemy’s activity,” Smedley noted.
“Tell Dionysus to take over the closest ship and go get our people!” Terry clenched his fists and tensed his jaw so hard that his cheek muscles clicked.
“We can’t,” Micky said before Terry could order the War Axe into action.
“I know,” Terry said before relaxing. “Our primary duty is to protect the station.”
“Our primary duty is to finish that alien ship. We’ve stopped broadcasting our message of peace, just for reference.”
“You said you’d know when the time was right.” Terry steepled his fingers in front of his face as he concentrated on the tactical screen. “If you were him, what would you do?”
“Kill the Gate and trap us here, unless he knows we have Gate drives, and then the Gate is irrelevant,” Micky started. “Then it would be a war of attrition. He didn’t attack us first when he had surprise on his side. That might have been his greatest tactical error.”
“Dionysus has assumed control of a hot frigate and it is en route.”
“Thanks, Smedley.” TH looked at Micky and nodded for him to continue.
“He dropped mini-nukes on the destroyers, but fired up the battleship with a plasma cannon, making himself vulnerable during that brief period.”
“Five rapid-fire shots. How long was he visible, three seconds?”
“Exactly three.”
“That’s your window, Smedley. You have that long to acquire the target and fire everything you can bring to bear.”
“I shall endeavor to succeed,” the AI replied.
“I have no doubt about that.”
“What’s his plan, Micky?”
“Destroy us one ship at a time. Divide and conquer.”
“That’s what I was thinking, but we’re not dividing. Watch at the Harborians. They’re clustering closer and tighter—those that don’t look like chickens with their heads cut off.”
Icons representing ships raced in erratic patterns. A light flashed, and one of the ship icons turned red. “Did the ship appear?” Terry hadn’t thought that it had. “Smedley, enhance and replay live video.”
The screen displayed a slightly grainy image showing the ship in question conducting a series of erratic maneuvers as if trying to stymie the enemy’s aim. An explosion at the front washed over and through the shield, enveloping the ship in a brief fireball that quickly disappeared as the oxygen vented from the ship.
“It ran into something,” Terry and Micky both said.
“Mark on the screen where the first explosion was, and then mark this one. Ignore the three ships lost during the active attack.”
“Shonna’s and Merrit’s Pod has been recovered. They are alive and well.”
Terry breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at the screen. “Finally, some good news. Get them on the horn as soon as you can.”
Lines appeared on the screen between the first explosion and the latest.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Micky asked, drawing a line in the air with his finger. Terry nodded.
“Add in the last three attacks.” They appeared on the screen. Terry rotated and twisted the tactical image using well-practiced hand gestures, exploring how it looked from all angles.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say there’s only one enemy ship, and he’s trying to herd us toward the Gate.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Micky concurred.
“Smedley, get Dionysus to fire up a few of the Harborian ships in cold storage and take them through the Gate. Give the appearance that we’re conducting an evacuation.”
“Will we need their firepower?” the AI asked.
“Their weapons are useless. If we can see the enemy, we can kill it all by ourselves. Those ships provide an opportunity to bring him out of hiding. Send five, is all. The rest of the ships are to bring overwhelming firepower as soon as we know where to aim.” Terry crossed his arms and glared at the screen. “This isn’t a stand-up fight. We won’t get the chance to punch him in the mouth. He’s going to slip and slide his way around Keeg Station and Spires Harbor. We’ll have to pick at him like gnats until we get a good shot.”
“Merrit is on the comm,” Smedley announced.
“Are you guys okay?”
“We’ve been worse. Just a few bumps, and then there was that issue where we lost all of our air, but the shipsuits came in handy,” Merrit replied.
“What did you learn about our friend?”
“They are fully invisible. We were close, like really close, and after they disappeared we slammed into them, so even from a range of a few meters, I saw stars where they were, but they were solid. We wrecked the Pod. It’s probably not coming back from that one.”
“It was solid while it was invisible?” Terry asked, keying on the one bit of news he could use.
“Hard as the Rock of Gibraltar.”
“Make sure all your data gets scrubbed and shared with Ted. He’s on board the Axe now.”
“I’m sure Dionysus has already taken care of it.”
“Get back to Spires Harbor and give those folks a little backbone. They’re not doing me proud.”
“We heard. Kill this son of a bitch, TH. He lined up and shot that battleship and then moved on. He’s a heartless fuck.”
“We’re doing what we can.” Terry signed off, knowing that he sounded weak. He felt weak, too. They couldn’t see the enemy, but he could see them.
Terry gripped Micky’s shoulder before leaving the bridge through the captain’s conference room, where he hoped to find Char and the others. When the door slid open, he found them all head-down on the table. It looked like they were sleeping. He tiptoed next to Char and took a knee. With one finger he brushed the silver stripe of hair away from her eye.
Her lid fluttered and she looked at him dully, without her usual sparkle. “All of that to tell you nothing you don’t already know,” she lamented. “We could see him clearly when he appeared. Their aura was bright in the Etheric before it shrouded itself and disappeared again. It has taken all our effort to see only that.”
Terry kissed her forehead softly and slowly stroked her hair. When he stood up, the others looked at him through tired eyes.
“Got any of that for me?” Joseph croaked before clearing his throat.
Terry shook his head and turned to the weretigers. “I’ll need you in the Eagles as soon as you’re able.”
“On our way,” Aaron replied, giving Terry a thumbs-up, his chin continuing to rest on the table with his arms lying like wet pasta before him.
Terry wanted to parry with a witty comeback, but nothing came to him. The others watched him expectantly, looking disappointed as the seconds ticked by.
Maybe Shakespeare. “From Midsummer Night’s Dream: and sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye, steal me awhile fro
m mine own company. And my own addition to the quote, make sometime not a long time, err we lose ourselves within the dust of space.”
“Touché, TH.” Aaron repeated his thumbs-up.
What’s wrong with my mind? Terry thought as he painted a fake smile on his face and departed, hesitant in his step since he wasn’t sure. When the door closed behind him, he stopped.
“Combat Information to check in on Ted,” Terry verbalized a mental checklist. “Then the hangar bay to put Kimber in charge of the operation. My place is on the bridge. A hundred ships are at my command. The chessmaster must not become a piece on the board.”
“Who’s bored?” Cory asked when she stepped from the stairwell into the corridor. Dokken and Floyd followed. The dog pointed with his head toward the wombat, who ran to Terry when she saw him.
Terry! she cried happily.
He picked her up and briskly petted her, stopping for a moment to feel that the ship was moving, but deliberately, not with the fury of a destroyer engaged in combat. “I hear you’ve been marking more territory.”
Yup! For my friends.
“The whole ship is filled with your friends, so you don’t need to mark, little girl. Please use the restroom like everyone else.”
Not poo! Signs of my love.
“Well, this is what love looks like to me, and what I appreciate the most.” Terry looked at Floyd’s beady and dark eyes while continuing to pet her.
Me, too.
“Perfect. Please don’t mark. Dokken doesn’t like it. His nose is much more sensitive than ours.”
Dog mean!
Terry chuckled. “Dokken isn’t mean. He has his redeeming features.” Terry looked at the dog, who was trying and failing to roll his eyes. “I have to go now.”
He tried to hand Floyd to Cory, who crossed her arms as the wombat struggled mightily to stay in Terry’s arms. Dokken sat and cocked his head sideways as if calculating odds of who would win the human-wombat skirmish.
“I’ll take you with me,” Terry capitulated. Cory uncrossed her arms, put her hand on her father’s shoulder, and smiled. A soft blue glow appeared under her hand.
“Are you in pain?” Cory asked, suddenly concerned. She tried to look under her hand, but the shipsuit was in the way.
“I don’t think so,” Terry replied before trying to hurry away, unable to take his eyes off Cory’s hand. He walked into the bulkhead beside the hatch, grunted, and turned to watch where he was going. He increased the length of his stride until he hit the steps, taking them two at a time on his way down to the CIC.
“I don’t think so,” he repeated to himself, shrugging it off. “I’m in pretty good shape for an old guy! Old Marines never die, they go to space and live on, bringing the big hammer of Justice to the galaxy.”
He started to laugh, shaking off his earlier discombobulation. He jumped to the landing where he would exit the stairwell as the ship bucked from an impact to the shields.
Smedley?
The enemy ship appeared and fired a single plasma projectile at us. It disappeared as I fired. I fear that I didn’t hit it.
Bracketing fire, Smedley. Assume that it is going somewhere other than where it is headed when visible, including not staying where it is. Take the shotgun-blast approach to this bastard.
I have input your direction into the targeting systems. He shall not go unscathed next time.
If there’s a next time. Any damage?
None, Colonel Walton. The War Axe is as stalwart as ever, the AI replied.
“I would expect no less. General Smedley Butler, hero to all!” Terry declared aloud. “If he’s shooting at us, he isn’t shooting at anyone else.”
Terry hurried to the CIC and entered to find two of the terminals dismantled and Ted sitting on the deck working with fiber interfaces.
“Can’t you hold the ship still?” Ted declared in a tone that suggested it wasn’t a question. He glanced at the wombat, made a face, and returned his gaze to TH.
“Not when we’re under fire. You know what we need, and I have to assume you’re working on it. The only question that remains is how long until we can see that ship?”
“I’m working to reconfigure our scanning systems. Once I’ve collected more data, I’ll probably still not be able to give you an estimate. Plato?”
A new voice resounded throughout the operations space. Plato. “I’ve analyzed the data that Dionysus collected with Shonna and Merrit. I can tell you what doesn’t work. That is the limit of what I know regarding seeing what is invisible.”
“So, you don’t know? We’ll do it the hard way, then. Thanks for coming on board, Ted. Can I send some food or drink for you? Is there anything you need?”
“I need peace and quiet. Kill that ship so I can work on finding it without its interference.” Ted laughed at his own joke and dug back into his lapful of fiber optic cables.
Terry walked away without looking back, happy that Ted was in a good mood. He absentmindedly stroked the wombat in his arms.
Now, the hard part. How do I find you?
“They are chasing their tails,” the weapons specialist stated as he watched the heavy destroyer perform a series of erratic maneuvers following the attack.
“Their response was quicker than I would have thought,” the commander noted.
“You knew how fast it would be, Lord Mantis. They were ready for us, yet weren’t able to fire before we were gone.”
“Chalk not up to skill what is solely in luck’s purview,” the commander quoted from the Myriador fleet’s strategy and tactics manual.
“Give credit where credit is due, Lord Mantis. For the glory of Myriador.”
“Indeed.”
The two studied the three-dimensional tactical display.
“None have moved toward their Gate.”
“I anticipated that. It would be best for them if they simply left, but they don’t seem the type to give up when they have invested so much. Wait.” The commander pointed to five ships that had broken away from the shipyard. The image of the Gate magnified, showing an energy signature that was at the far end of their ship’s ability to measure. An event horizon replaced the stars beyond.
The five ships conducted a slow arc one after the other to align themselves with the open Gate. The first one was well ahead of the other four.
“They are afraid of mines. Go forth, aliens! Your escape door is open,” the weapons specialist muttered under his breath.
After the first ship had disappeared through the Gate, the other four went through rapidly, one after the other. The Gate powered down.
“There is hope yet for their cowardice, but they left their people on the station behind.”
“I’ve calculated that if they use half their ships, they should be able to move the combined assets in the shipyard and the station,” the weapons specialist stated.
The commander studied him with a critical eye. “How did you estimate the number of aliens?”
“I used what we found on the ships at the edge of the storage area.”
“Fool! Those ships were in cold storage. Our systems couldn’t penetrate the station. Your guess is meaningless. Go help those idiots finish the mines.”
The specialist couldn’t contain his surprise and shock.
“Of course, I know. Part of being in charge is training those under your command. You are failing in that. You have presented information in a way that I find compelling, but you have failed your people. Get down there and finish that work.” The commander waved his center hand angrily, shooing his subordinate away.
The weapons specialist hurried off the bridge.
“Take us to attack point, Dulisto,” the commander ordered Helm.
Chapter Eight
“They left without us?” Bon Tap said, his voice a high-pitched whine.
“Our mission is to find a ship and contribute to this battle,” Bundin declared.
“What’s going on? What battle? The War Axe is still here!” K’Thrall
pointed out of the hangar bay to where the heavy destroyer shot past during a series of tactical maneuvers. “Hey! They’re pretty close to the station.”
Bundin recounted everything he had learned from Joseph. Although they were able to talk through telepathy, the communications chip that had finally been configured for the Podder’s brain made conversations quicker and more accurate. The War Axe was close enough that Joseph had reached out to tell his friend all he knew about the intruder.
Information was power. The others had been up to their usual antics, as Bundin had seen it, but it was their downtime that they relished. He could see how they were tightening up as a team, growing close to the point where they could anticipate each other’s actions. He couldn’t, but wanted to. He knew what he had to do, but being social with the aliens wasn’t his thing.
As their leader, it was critical.
“We must solve this problem,” he suggested.
“How to get back to the Axe?” Slikira asked.
Bundin’s stalk head waved around while he tried to control his tentacle arms. “The bigger question is, how do we contribute to this fight?”
“With our own ship,” K’Thrall offered. “Ted’s ship is right there. I say we take it.”
“Why didn’t he take it?” Bundin countered.
Chris waved down a deckhand from the hangar crew, and they chatted briefly before Chris turned back to the squad. “It’s undergoing repairs and modifications, but it’s almost ready. Only a couple hours remain.”
The team looked through the forcefield at the stars and the shipyard in the distance. A bright flash suggested a battle was taking place out there while the War Axe protected the station, using its bulk as a physical shield.
“Will the battle still be happening in two hours?” B'Ichi asked from within his well-heated suit.
Destroyer: A Military Space Opera (The Bad Company Book 5) Page 6
