The universe didn’t think Recker had enough to deal with and the menacing shape of a Lavorix heavy cruiser appeared over the surface opening, at an altitude of a thousand metres. With little room for manoeuvre, he could do nothing to avoid the two gauss slugs which pounded the Fulcrum’s topside armour. Recker opened his mouth to order the launch of missiles into the warship overhead.
Aston spoke first. “I’ve got control of the surface weapons!” she said in triumph.
“Lock and fire,” ordered Recker. “Blow those bastards to pieces.”
“The heavy below us is lifting off, sir,” said Eastwood.
The state of wavering order veered into absolute chaos.
The warship beneath flew across the floor to the bottom of the shaft, revealing the front two-thirds of its hull - just enough to fire a gauss slug into the Fulcrum’s underside. The blow produced another resounding crash and Recker saw a few million tons of damaged plating tumble down.
At the same time, an Executor strike from the surface emplacements took out the Lavorix heavy cruiser overhead. The flash of darkness, deeper than the planet’s night, came and went. All that visibly remained of the heavy cruiser was a trillion dancing sparks of orange and white, which scattered and died, leaving the opening clear. High above – at a much greater altitude, a second of the enemy vessels had been struck by dozens of missiles, turning it into a fireball which hung motionless in the air. Recker had seen the deaths of enough spaceships to know that this one was finished. He sensed it labouring to remain in the air.
From an even higher altitude, the third Lavorix heavy came streaking in at an angle. It descended at incredible speed and Recker mentally predicted its path.
“Going to be too close for comfort,” he said.
With terrifying force, the spaceship impacted with the surface landing field, out of sight but not far from the opening. Inside the Fulcrum, Recker felt and heard nothing, though the warship’s instrumentation registered the intensity of the shockwave.
Although the destruction of the above-surface warships was a significant victory, the spaceship below hadn’t gone away and, with the use of explosives being unwise so close to the Tri-Cannon, Recker made the Fulcrum accelerate downwards under maximum thrust. Too late, the enemy captain saw the danger and the much heavier battleship’s stern hit the Lavorix heavy cruiser on its topside armour.
The sensor view was a confusion of buckling metal and flying debris, while this second shockwave made the control bars vibrate in Recker’s hands. He didn’t relent and used a combination of surprise and the Fulcrum’s much greater propulsion output to drive the enemy cruiser into the alloy-clad ground. The Lavorix craft thudded down and the Fulcrum crunched on top of it.
Reacting quickly, the enemy captain reversed his spaceship and the heavy cruiser began sliding out from beneath the Fulcrum. Recker couldn’t do much to stop it and he cast his gaze around, hunting for the Tri-Cannon. Once he knew where it was, he could position the battleship so that Aston could fire without damaging the Meklon weapon.
Only now did Recker comprehend how cavernous was this space beneath the ground – it stretched on for thousands of meters in every direction, shaped like an irregular oval with a level floor. At intervals around the perimeter, the huge gravity field generators supporting the ceiling – which was four thousand metres at its highest point - were attached where walls and floor met.
Elsewhere on the ground, Recker spotted many shuttles – both Meklon and Lavorix in origin – along with a variety of immense gravity cranes, crawlers and other machinery he didn’t recognize but was sure were employed in the construction of warships. The furthest end of the subterranean space was stacked high with crates, some of which measured hundreds of metres in length and two hundred in height. One of the larger crates was open – its side door swung outwards onto the ground – and, inside, Recker spotted what he thought were weapons magazines.
The Tri-Cannon was at the opposite end of the cavern, its ternium drive holding it fifty metres above the ground. From such a close range, it appeared far more dangerous than it had on the design drawings and in the 3D model. To Recker’s eyes, the barrels seemed shorter and with a wider bore. All three were pointing in a straight line connecting the Fulcrum and the reversing Lavorix ship.
“We’ve got lots of ground activity, sir,” said Larson. “Lavorix shuttles, ground vehicles and soldiers, congregating in the vicinity of the Tri-Cannon.”
Recker heard the words but the presence of enemy soldiers was near the bottom of his priority list. With a groaning scrape that was audible through a few hundred metres of the Fulcrum’s plating and ternium modules, the Lavorix heavy cruiser tore clear of the battleship. The enemy captain overdid the power and his warship accelerated stern-first into several stacks of crates. Although the containers were built to last, they crumpled like paper under the spaceship’s weight. Crates were thrown in every direction and the tops of the stacks toppled forward, thumping onto the heavy cruiser.
At the far end of the cavern, the Tri-Cannon rotated smoothly, keeping its barrels aimed at the Lavorix ship.
“Its auto-tracking systems are online,” said Recker.
“Sir! I’ve found out how to access the Tri-Cannon’s weaponry!” said Aston, almost jumping from her seat. “Everything’s online except the main armament!”
The weight of circumstances pressed down on Recker, promising failure if he made the wrong decision. At any moment, the enemy captain would realize that his only option was to open fire. Recker wasn’t so much concerned about the Fulcrum – the battleship had taken a beating but he was sure it could withstand any attack from the heavy cruiser, unless it was something guaranteed to result in mutual destruction – rather it was losing the Tri-Cannon he feared.
Adding to Recker’s mountain of problems, the propulsion of the stricken heavy cruiser above the shaft entrance had finally given up and the flaming wreckage was fully under gravity’s control. Down it came, heading straight for the opening.
The words came from his mouth, seemingly without intervention from his brain.
“Commander Aston. Fire the Tri-Cannon.”
Chapter Thirteen
Aston gave the enemy cruiser a shot from one of the operational side guns.
The Tri-Cannon’s left-hand barrel recoiled violently into the turret and the Fulcrum’s sensors detected the most fleeting streak of white emerging from the gun’s barrel. The next moment the hull of the Lavorix heavy was struck by a three-hundred-metre projectile encased in overstressed ternium, travelling at enormous velocity. For the enemy ship, the outcome was terminal. The 3500-metre heavy cruiser crumpled like it was made from inch-thick steel, rather than being almost solid. Heat expansion from the impact turned much of its hull instantly white and then, its entire structure was torn apart in an explosion of superheated debris.
The Fulcrum’s mesh deflector activated immediately, preventing the expanding sphere of wreckage from crashing into the battleship’s heat-softened nose, and one of the rear feeds showed a mesh shield appearing around the Tri-Cannon as well.
Other areas of the underground space lacked protection and wreckage from the heavy cruiser tore through the crates, smashing hundreds and knocking over the stacks. Shuttles, cranes and crawlers were swept away, overturned, crushed and hurled into walls, not only by million-ton fragments of the cruiser, but by a combined heat expansion of the air and the shockwave from the initial impact.
For a moment after the event, the Fulcrum’s crew could do little other than stare as they tried to adapt the visible picture into something their brains could handle. The task was made harder when the burning wreckage of a heavy cruiser plummeted cleanly down the shaft and into the ground with sufficient mass and velocity to distort the floor into a shallow bowl. A new shockwave rippled out, throwing everything into the air and toppling a dozen precariously balanced crates onto the ruined hull of the Lavorix heavy cruiser.
“Well damn,” said Eastwood. “Would you
look at that?”
“We won,” said Burner, like he couldn’t believe it.
Recker was about to remind his crew that it wasn’t over yet - that not only was the Galactar almost certainly on its way, but they had to figure out what they were going to do with the Tri-Cannon. He took a deep breath and said something far more positive.
“We kicked the living crap out those Lavorix bastards. When we get home, we’ll celebrate the hell out of it.”
“The Captain’s paying,” said Eastwood, clapping his hands together with a sharp retort.
“Damn right I am, Lieutenant.” Recker half-turned - enough that he could point at his engine man. “You’ve just got to make sure we get home in one piece, so you can cash in.”
Eastwood wasn’t dour, but he rarely smiled. This time, he grinned. “Now that’s encouragement.”
“Now then, ladies and gentlemen, we’re in hostile territory and it’s back to business,” said Recker. He rolled his shoulders. “The Fulcrum took a beating and we’ve got other problems besides. First things first – give me the damage report.”
“Somehow, we’re holding together, sir,” said Fraser. He reeled off the list of weapons strikes the battleship had suffered. “Gauss slugs, particle beams, missiles. Plus the nose armour is still way above three thousand degrees and you could grill a five-kilo steak on the coolest part in less than a hundredth of a second.” Fraser shook his head like he couldn’t believe it. “The outcome of all that is fifteen ambers, mostly on noncritical subsystems, six reds on the missile clusters, and four of the sensor arrays are only partially functioning.”
“Those sensor failures aren’t significant yet, sir,” said Burner. “A couple more strikes in the wrong place and that’ll soon change.”
Recker nodded his acknowledgement. He had no idea if every Meklon battleship was as tough as the Fulcrum, or if he’d stumbled into possession of one which had been constructed to a higher standard. Whatever the truth, he was grateful to be in command of a warship that was too stubborn to give up and die.
“So we’re still dangerous,” he said.
“We’re running low on ammunition, sir,” said Aston. “Thirty percent average in the magazines – some as low as twenty percent and others as high as fifty percent.”
“That could become an issue,” said Recker. He cursed. “Before we turned this underground facility into the mess we see all around us, we could have probably ordered a resupply from the Meklon loaders.”
“There was never a chance of that happening with the Lavorix being here,” said Aston.
Recker didn’t waste any more time thinking about the Fulcrum’s dwindling ammunition. “If you were able to discharge the Tri-Cannon’s weaponry, that means we should have control over its propulsion as well.”
“I can confirm that the base mainframe has fully accepted our authority to act, as provided by the Extinction Protocol,” said Burner. “With hindsight, I don’t think the controller itself had been corrupted by the Lavorix – only the comms. I believe the problems we had getting it to hand over the metaphorical goods were caused by our own – my - failure to understand the Meklon command structure.”
“Have you learned from the experience, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir. If we run into a similar situation again, I won’t be so slow.”
“Good,” said Recker. He thought it best to clarify his feelings before moving on. “I didn’t for a moment believe you were responsible for the delays, Lieutenant. Everything considered, you did well. We all did.”
“Which brings us to the Tri-Cannon,” said Aston.
“And its non-functioning main armament,” Recker said. “Have you found the cause?”
“Not yet, sir. The central gun doesn’t fire solid state projectiles, so the fault isn’t because its magazine isn’t loaded.”
“Suggesting it’s either down to unfinished hardware, or an automated software block triggered by the anticipated outcome of a discharge in such a confined space,” said Recker.
“Having seen what happened when we fired the secondary gun, I’m not convinced there’s a control system limitation, sir,” said Eastwood. “It’s also my belief that we didn’t witness the full potential of the side armaments.”
Even though he didn’t need to hear Eastwood’s theory immediately, Recker’s itching curiosity got the better of him. “How come?”
“I didn’t understand from the tech specs why the projectiles would need to be coated in not just ternium, but overstressed ternium. I wondered if the Meklon had figured out a way to make the cladding interact with whatever other material is contained in the ammunition, in order to produce a more explosive effect.” Eastwood scratched his scalp, like he was coming to terms with an idea. “Having seen the weapon in action, I believe the overstressed ternium is intended to impart additional acceleration to the projectile once it is ejected from the barrel.”
“The slugs from a Daklan Terrus cannon travel at twenty thousand klicks per second,” said Recker. “What sort of velocity are we talking about for the ternium-coated ones?”
“Potentially as close to lightspeed as you can get without making the transition, sir.” Eastwood shook his head at the thought. “I estimate the mass of the projectiles that gun is firing at 424 million tons. I wouldn’t like to imagine what kind of damage would result from one of those hitting anything once it achieves its maximum theoretical volume. And that’s assuming the ternium casing isn’t designed to produce a secondary interaction with the material in the projectile’s core.”
“Damn,” said Recker.
“If there’s anything going to crack open the Galactar, we’re looking at it,” Eastwood continued. “Only trouble being, the central gun isn’t functioning.”
“The Shield Breaker,” said Aston.
“Maybe those side guns will punch through the Galactar’s defences anyway,” said Burner.
“We’re going off track,” said Recker. “The fact is, the Tri-Cannon is here underground and its main armament is offline. It won’t be taking out the Galactar until we can resolve one or both of those issues.”
Just mentioning the Galactar gave Recker a renewed sense of urgency. With it came an idea and he accessed the Ystarn facility’s databanks. The Fulcrum formed a connection without Recker having to tell the base mainframe about the Extinction Protocol again, and he hunted for files relating to the Tri-Cannon. The search wasn’t a long one.
“Here we are,” Recker said. “The newest files on the Tri-Cannon. Looks as if the Meklon had been updating these ones without making them available wider afield.”
“I guess they were really on edge by the time the Tri-Cannon was nearing completion,” said Aston. “Aha! The weapons console indicates a hardware fault on the Shield Breaker.”
“What kind of hardware fault?”
“I’ve got a few hundred error codes to investigate. I’ll let you know.”
“Please,” Recker nodded. He located something of interest, along with a coincidence of such magnitude that he wondered if his strings were being pulled by a cosmic entity of unknowable power. “The Tri-Cannon was initially intended to be towed to its destination on a planet not far from here. Once there, the Meklon were planning to lure in the Galactar and see if they could bring it down.”
“That doesn’t sound like it was a good idea. Every warship captain likes a static target,” said Burner.
“That’s right, Lieutenant. Which is why the Meklon adapted their plans.” Recker lifted his head and focused on the bulkhead screen, at the feed showing the Tri-Cannon.
The Meklon weapon floated above the ground, looking to all intents and purposes, complete. It was undamaged, though the dullness of its plating made it appear ancient rather than new. A few shuttles and vehicles on the floorspace near the weapon were untouched by the carnage, having been protected by the mesh deflector activation. One of the vehicles was Lavorix, though Recker saw no sign of foot soldiers. He guessed that any survivors had hightailed it ou
t of sight beneath the Tri-Cannon, and there was no shortage of hiding places beyond the mesh deflector’s perimeter.
“The adapted plans, sir.” Aston prompted him.
“Yes, Commander. The Meklon altered the design late on – the Tri-Cannon was modified so that it would couple to the back of a warship. At that point, it would become mobile and a much more potent threat to the Galactar.”
“It’s a big turret,” said Eastwood pointedly.
“Which is why the Meklon were planning to attach it to a big spaceship, Lieutenant.”
“Why didn’t they?” asked Burner. “The Tri-Cannon is near-as-damnit ready.”
“Ninety-nine percent ready,” said Recker, having checked the local copy of the project plan document, which was more up to date than the previous copy he’d seen. He didn’t keep his crew hanging on. “The Meklon had chosen two spaceships – one primary and one backup. Those spaceships were meant to be inbound but they never arrived.”
“Fulcrum and Bane?” said Aston, her eyes wide.
Recker nodded. “The battleships Fulcrum and Bane were designated carriers for the Tri-Cannon. The Fulcrum was primary. If it got damaged or destroyed, the Bane was meant to take over.”
“Except the battleships never made it.”
“Their crews must have been killed by an Extractor discharge on Kemis-5,” said Recker.
“And then we came along,” said Larson.
“Do you believe in fate, Lieutenant?”
“Not much, sir. Not before today.”
“Likewise,” said Recker. “Now I don’t know what the hell to think.”
“We should do what the Meklon intended,” said Aston. “Whether it’s fated or just how things turned out.”
“I agree, Commander. Our mission – I’m stating it now – is to destroy the Galactar so that it can’t do the same to the HPA and the Daklan as it did to the Meklon.”
Fulcrum Gun (Savage Stars Book 4) Page 11
