Destroyer

by Craig Martelle

  “Energy is off our charts in three different areas. That ship generates more power than all of Myriador combined.”

  “Then it’ll make a magnificent explosion when it goes, will it not?”

  “I would like to see that supernova, more so if it happens within the shipyard. The secondary explosions from the wave traveling through would be something to behold.” The specialist was starting to believe it was possible to defeat the enemy.

  “They’ll replay it a hundred times a day back home.”

  “For the glory of Myriador,” the weapons specialist cheered.

  The commander had started to believe as well. Maybe it was possible to win. “Take us to the shipyard to send a mine their way, and then to the station to draw them to us, where we’ll have more surprises in store.”

  “Yes, Lord Mantis!” the bridge crew cried in unison.

  “For the glory of Myriador!” He thrust his center fist in the air, all the while watching the image of the alien ship grow larger on the screen as the Traxinstall flew toward it.

  “What now?” Bon Tap asked from his seat in the captain’s chair. K’Thrall and Slicker were in their positions at the front of the bridge. Pilot and Systems, although Slicker wasn’t flying the ship. Dionysus was.

  K’Thrall continued to study the data that flowed across the screen before him.

  “Make like we’re a hole in space and watch,” Bundin suggested.

  “All systems set to passive,” K’Thrall replied. “Dionysus, any new information regarding the alien ship? We’ve seen it materialize a number of times now while under direct visual and technical observation. You have to have something.”

  “Materialize isn’t the correct term. It’s as if he’s hiding behind a closed door that looks like the wall. When the door opens, we see. The rest of the time, it’s closed and he is invisible to us. All the while, he has remained in place.”

  “A lot of words poured from the speaker, but I didn’t hear any revelations,” Bundin suggested, being more snarky than usual in his position wedged into the corridor outside the bridge.

  “My apologies, Corporal Bundin. I don’t have any revelations. We see for two fractions of a second when the enemy launches a mine toward us. Somewhere between the launch and it clearing the ship’s cloak, it’s visible, but only to sensors. Maybe that’s a glitch when a cloaked entity passes through the other cloak. For that brief moment in time, they cancel each other out. We get two points of reference to give us a general trajectory.”

  “Outside of that, we have nothing,” K’Thrall lamented.

  “That’s more than we had when we first flew out here. And we know that the enemy ship has been hit at least twice. Both times it vented, once supplies and the second time atmosphere.” Bundin’s tentacle arms ended with hands that he rarely rubbed together, but he did now, mirroring the human crossed-arms pose. His blue stalk head remained steady for an abnormally long time.

  B’Ichi remained in the corridor and lounged ingloriously against Bundin’s shell. There were at least two full rolls of duct tape holding his suit together. He looked like an alien from Earth’s past.

  He was in character.

  “We could use a mech,” Chris said from behind Bundin.

  “We could, but we don’t have one,” the squad leader replied.

  “Maybe we can rendezvous with the War Axe and suit up?”

  “Dionysus, connect me to Colonel Walton.”

  It took longer than usual, and when the colonel finally answered, he sounded like he was in a corridor. “Report, Corporal.”

  “Request permission to dock with the War Axe to get a couple mech suits and then take Ramses’ Chariot back to space.”

  “Granted, but make it quick. Meet us at Spires Harbor.”

  “Roger. Bundin, out.” The Podder unfolded his arms, and his head started to wave about.

  “Who’s your daddy?” K’Thrall yelled.

  “What the hell does that mean?” Slicker demanded. She reached across the ship’s control panels to punch the Yollin in the middle of his chest carapace. Her hands were hard as iron, so it didn’t hurt her. She hoped he felt it. He lifted his chin and clicked his mandibles at her.

  “Set course,” Bundin ordered.

  “On the way,” the AI responded.

  “Boner, Chris, and Slicker, you’re all going into the Pod-doc when we get back.”

  “We don’t have time for that!” Chris countered.

  “Who in the hell is going to suit up besides B’Ichi?”

  The modified four-legged armored suits were not yet ready. The space suits were sound, but those weren’t desirable for combat where there was even a remote chance of punching a hole in the suit. Duct tape didn’t always solve problems.

  “My head is clearing. Put Boner in first, then Slicker. If we run out of time, I’ll make do.”

  “Are you sure?” Bundin studied the man’s eyes.

  “I don’t want to miss this fight. Who knows what kind of shot we’re going to get? We need to be ready. As the colonel says, we need to be firstest with the mostest.”

  “That’s not grammatically correct,” Dionysus remarked.

  “Then you correct him.” Chris closed his eyes and took deep breaths. The light and sound bothered him. Bundin didn’t want him in the fight, but the Pod-doc could cure all ills—after the fact, if need be.

  “I politely decline.” The AI knew which battles were worth fighting.

  “Prepare to disembark. We have no time to waste. Boner, Slicker, and Chris to sickbay. B’Ichi, get yourself into a hot mech, and K’Thrall, go to the CIC and see if you can help Ted.”

  “Isn’t that a novel idea? But I accept the challenge, and volunteer as tribute,” the Yollin replied.

  “Just when I thought I was starting to understand you, I find that I don’t understand anything,” Bundin bemoaned. He watched in all directions with his four eyes as the squad vaulted and slid over his shell to get into position to race off the ship. Slicker moved slower than usual, but she was still faster than the Podder. K’Thrall supported her, and Bon Tap and Chris helped each other.

  “Preparing to dock,” Dionysus reported.

  “With utmost haste, warriors,” Bundin encouraged.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “The ship we fought earlier is on its way here,” the weapons specialist announced. “What if it is headed into the hangar bay of the big ship?”

  “Then it would be best for it to enter with a mine attached to its hull. A single mine will destroy both vessels. Make it so, Katamara.” The commander spoke slowly and evenly.

  “Deploying three mines with magnetic grapples and fuses set to delayed activation. Give him time to get inside the belly of the beast.” The weapons specialist manipulated the controls at his station and sent three mines into the void to wait in front of the big ship’s open hangar bay. “It was genius to come here. This will be a fatal blow to the enemies of Myriador.”

  “That is the plan,” the commander said, watching the mines move into position before activating positional thrusters to remain in place. Three weapons, waiting for the unwitting to hitch a ride.

  The small ship pulled up abruptly, stopping outside the big ship’s shields. “They are coordinating to drop their forcefield,” the weapons specialist said hopefully.

  “I don’t think so. Get us out of here. Back to the station. It’s time to wreak havoc.” The commander waved his center arm at the pilot, who engaged immediately, almost jerking the crew off their feet. “That little bastard has seen the mines. I don’t know how, but he has.”

  “Looking for vulnerabilities,” Katamara stated as he manipulated the latest three-dimensional tactical image showing the station and the forty-five ships surrounding it. “Would they risk hitting their own ships?”

  “As in, we get between them so they shoot each other while we hammer the station?” The commander looked at the image, but he saw only red. If he lost the ability to hide behind the shield, he w
ould be vulnerable. If he was vulnerable, he was dead. The Traxinstall had already discovered that the alien weapons would shred its hull. He was one direct hit away from being nothing but a memory. “We won’t take that risk. Not yet.”

  “Yes, Lord Mantis.” The weapons specialist focused his anger as he racked up the target points on the station.

  “And spread the pain on our way out of this shipyard.”

  Katamara chose a cold target, one he knew wouldn’t fire back as they accelerated toward the station.

  “Fire,” the commander ordered.

  “I know they are there,” Dionysus said. The squad was clustered in the corridor, waiting to leave the ship, and the abrupt stop had confused them. The AI clarified. “I’m coordinating with the War Axe now.”

  “Should we return to the bridge?” Bon Tap asked from where the others pressed him against the airlock. “Or maybe it’s better to die in the corridor?”

  “No one is going to die,” Bundin replied.

  “Standby with pulse weapons,” Dionysus declared. “The War Axe is venting the last of the asteroid dust from the hangar bay.”

  K’Thrall extricated himself from the mass of bodies and hurried back to the bridge in time to see three shadows appear on the main screen. The destroyer’s close-in weapon system lit up the mines, tearing them apart. Only one exploded.

  “Secure and recover the unexploded ordnance,” Dionysus said, giving a step by step for those not on the bridge.

  A maintenance bot flew from a storage bay on the War Axe’s hull. As it approached the last location of one of the destroyed mines, it sprayed paint in a wide cloud. The gray coated the larger pieces, now visible since the cloak had been deactivated or destroyed yet the parts had remained elusive.

  “I’ve got you now,” Dionysus remarked.

  “By ‘you,’ you mean an unexploded thermonuclear warhead?” K’Thrall clarified.

  “That would be ‘you,’ correct.”

  “Can we get off first?” Bon Tap asked.

  The alien ship appeared for a moment, its plasma cannon burped, and then the ship disappeared. The War Axe responded, its auto-firing systems blanketing the area, but it was too late. The ship had been accelerating away from them.

  “Any debris?” Micky asked.

  “The enemy escaped unscathed,” Ruzfell reported. “The Harborian frigate has been destroyed.”

  An image appeared on the screen showing a ship that had split in half, breaking into smaller pieces as the sections drifted, leaving a trail of debris in its wake.

  “Let the station know the enemy ship is on its way,” Micky said softly.

  Terry opened the door to the CIC, and he and Char stepped in. The space was kept in perpetual twilight to ensure that every detail stood out on the myriad screens. Only Ted and the Crenellian were in there.

  “Ankh! I didn’t know you were aboard.” Terry looked at the small alien and waited for a reply before realizing that none would be forthcoming. He didn’t answer questions that weren’t questions, and simply stated facts. What Terry did or did not know was irrelevant to the Crenellian.

  “Go away,” Ted said, cutting to the heart of Terry’s visit.

  “No.” Two can play at that game. “The alien attempted to blow up your ship by dropping mines in front of our hangar bay. He probably hoped it would blow us up too when we created an opening in our gravitic shield for Ramses’ Chariot to fly through.”

  “My ship shouldn’t be out here,” Ted argued.

  “The Chariot has discovered things about the alien ship that no one else was able to find. Dionysus is in command of it, and is making sure it fights well. You trust Plato’s stepchildren, don’t you?”

  “Of course, he does,” a voice interjected through the overhead sound system. Plato, the AI that Ted created.

  Ted’s mouth worked as if he were going to say something, but no sound came out.

  “I concur,” a new voice joined. “Dionysus’ performance during this crisis that is completely Colonel Walton’s fault has been exceptional.”

  It was Erasmus, the AI that traveled with Ankh.

  Char put her hand on Terry’s arm, and he took a deep breath before asking, “How is this my fault?”

  “It’s always your fault whenever we’re led into combat. Ergo, when in combat, it’s your fault,” Plato replied.

  “That makes no sense. I was thinking about going on vacation. What if Char and I had been gone? This alien still would have attacked. No matter whose fault, not mine, we need a way to see this ship when he’s cloaked.”

  “I’m working on it. Not right now, of course, because you’re interrupting.” Ted crossed his arms to make a show of not working.

  Terry’s hand twitched because it wanted to hit something. He unflexed his fist and smiled. Char wrapped her arm around his waist, pinching his butt on the way.

  “Can we have every ship in the fleet fire at a variety of angles? We have all this firepower that’s not being used. Better to look for a needle in a haystack, despite the remote chances of finding it, than to wait until you step on it.”

  “Kill that ship, Ted,” Char said in a low voice.

  “Space is a very large area,” Ted started slowly. His eyes unfocused as his mind started to work. He was communing with Plato. Ankh stared at a spot on the wall as his mind and Erasmus’ joined to figure out how to do it.

  Ted pulled up holo screens, within which Ankh joined him. The two poked and tapped at the images in the air.

  “And that’s how the alpha does it,” Char claimed.

  “By looking mean at them?” Terry prodded.

  “Letting my number two do the jousting until he’s vulnerable, then swoop in for the kill.”

  “Will it work?” Terry asked, not talking about the alpha dog.

  “With Ted and Ankh on it, chances are as good as they can be. What about the stuff the Chariot recovered?”

  “Let’s take a look.” Terry and Char kissed, passionately as they always did, blocking out all around them as effectively as Ted and Ankh. Hand in hand, they quietly left the CIC, shutting the door gently behind them before hurrying down the stairs to the hangar bay.

  “Are we sure that thing has been neutralized?” Bundin asked.

  “I am one hundred percent certain,” Dionysus replied. “Well, a solid ninety, at least.”

  “What?” Bon Tap started to panic.

  “I jest. Did I get the humor right?”

  “You almost gave me a heart attack, you digital dickweed!”

  “Yes. I got it right. That is hard for me. I’m happy to be making progress. Access has been granted.”

  Ramses’ Chariot moved toward the gaping maw of War Axe’s hangar bay doors. It had actual doors that could be closed, but with Ted’s improvement of the gravitic shields, they rarely closed them anymore. The forcefield kept the atmosphere in while allowing ships to pass through, and the shields protected the whole ship from impacts of any sort.

  K’Thrall joined the others waiting at the airlock.

  “We’re a hell of a lot closer than we were before to being able to find this guy,” he offered.

  “Why us?” Chris asked.

  Bundin waved his tentacle arms to get everyone’s attention. “It is as we’ve been taught and encouraged. Initiative, weighing risks versus reward, understanding the mission objective. By taking the Chariot, it put us in a position to collect data, and even land a couple blows for the good guys. Yes. We have done right by the Bad Company because we are the Bad Company.”

  “Corporal Bundin, I have to admit that I used to follow you out of curiosity, but now I’ll follow you because you’re a good leader.”

  “I don’t know what to say to that,” Bundin replied.

  “Get the hell out of the way! All ashore who’s going ashore,” K’Thrall declared as the hatches popped and armor-suited warriors stomped across the deck toward them.

  Bon Tap and Slicker stumbled out first, hurrying as best they could with th
eir injuries. Chris followed while B’Ichi and K’Thrall lifted and twisted to get the Podder through the narrow hatch. Once out, the Keome ran to get a suit of armor and K’Thrall made a beeline for the CIC. Bundin worked his way to the stern of the Chariot, where the warriors were helping two bots unload their hard-earned cargo.

  The twisted pieces and wreckage didn’t look intimidating, but Bundin knew better. The mine’s small warhead had been stripped of its detonator and initiating hardware. It was nothing but an explosive now, harmless because there was no way it could detonate.

  “What are those?”

  A bot wrestled with two heavy metal strips that seemed to have a life of their own.

  Private Gefelton, a warrior in a mech suit whose girlfriend was one of the ship’s engineers, provided his insight. “Looks like a magnetic clamping device.”

  “Bundin to Colonel Walton,” Bundin requested, using the hangar bay’s comm.

  “What do you need, Corporal?” Terry said as he and Char approached.

  The Podder seemed unfazed that the colonel was there already. “Magnetic attachments.” He pointed at the bot with the devices that kept trying to attach to it. “We pulled them from the mine wreckage.”

  “Is that why the alien recovered the mines? To put these things on them and make them into active weapons versus passive? Or was this just to sneak one aboard the Axe?”

  “I think the latter,” Char offered. She had earned an engineering degree a long time ago but was having trouble keeping up with the tech of the Etheric Federation.

  Terry waved Char around one side of Ramses’ Chariot and he ran around the other, examining it for any unwanted visitors. Once he finished with what he could see, he leapt to grab a handhold and pulled himself to the top of the ship to make sure nothing was up there, either.

  He gave Char a thumbs-up. “Clean,” he declared.

  She nodded in agreement. The ship was clean. The three devices they had destroyed were the only ones, at least in close proximity to the War Axe and Ramses’ Chariot.