by Mark Tufo
“Battle stations! Battle stations! This is not a drill!”
There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone tried to come to grips with how abruptly the event used to distract them from the real world had been so rudely interrupted by the very real and very dangerous world we lived in. The drills may have been hated to the man, but they were effective; the arena cleared out in minutes as everyone raced to their assigned positions. Before I left, I noticed that Dee had taken off his helmet and extended a hand to BT. I’m thinking the former gang banger had thought it a ruse of some sort at first because he didn’t immediately take the proffered hand, but when he did, Dee gave him a slight head nod of respect, which the big man returned.
I was still holding Tracy’s hand as we ran to the bridge. I swear I was halfway there before I realized that I was in charge of the Guardian and not in the abstract, like for the BT vs. Dee bout, but rather for potentially the survival of that very ship. I was worried that perhaps something had happened aboard the Vicieus—that the Progs had revoked their friendship card. However unlikely that seemed, it was something I had to factor in to my next moves.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I unceremoniously came to a skidding stop on the bridge. By this time I’d let go the death hold I had upon my wife’s hand.
“Long range scans have detected a Stryver ship,” Anders, the captain at the comms replied.
“Just showed up, Anders?” I was catching my breath.
“I think it’s been there the entire time, sir. There’s no reason to think it was an imminent displacement; there is no space ripple around it.”
It was hard for me to comprehend space actually rippling, but apparently it was as common to these sailors as water rippling in the wake of a traveling ship. I’d just have to believe the experts on this one.
“They are sending an unreadable signal; it appears to be the only reason they showed up,” he informed me.
“The malware.” Tracy caught on quicker than me.
“They’re trying to activate it,” I said, finishing her thought. “We need to make this ship look like it’s suffering some sort of meltdown.”
“Sir?” the captain asked.
“Can you make the lights flicker on and off, maybe release the stabilizers so we list a few degrees?” I asked. “Toss a bathtub out a porthole or something.”
“Captain, turn off all systems and switch to emergency power,” Tracy translated for the captain.
“Yes, Major.”
“Yeah...there you go, what she said. And take the weapons offline—switch them to manual.” Manual, in this case, meant computers that were in no way tied to the mainframe. They had absolutely no way to receive commands other than through the keyboard; we’d had our technicians do that. Would be no good at all if our guns turned on our allies, or even worse ourselves or the planet, which was just as likely. We went dark and then we were bathed in those horrible soft red lights that signify shit just went bad. It wasn’t long before Dee and BT had joined us up on the bridge. They both looked a little worse for the wear and were going to be stiff for the next few days, which made me smile—I know—completely inappropriate.
“Launch! The Stryvers have launched something.”
I was worried it was weapons and was about to put an end to the ruse. I wasn’t going to sit here and play dead waiting for them to actually make us dead.
“Two transports and a squadron of fighters,” the captain said when he got a better view.
“They are planning to board,” Dee said looking at the panel.
“Captain, what is the Vicieus doing?” I asked.
“Nothing. I do not believe they are aware,” he replied.
“How can they not be?” I was going to ask it; BT beat me to the punch.
“We have a couple of options as I see it. If anyone has a better idea, speak up. We either shoot them out of the sky before they board, or we stand ready to capture them the second they get here.” I said. “Either way they’ll know soon enough we’re not under their control anymore and the fireworks will begin.”
“It makes no tactical sense to allow them on,” BT said with a shudder.
I had to agree with him; all sorts of things could go wrong. The only upside was it bought us more time.
“Captain, can we get a message to the Vicieus?” Tracy asked.
“Not without the Stryvers finding out about it.”
“Sir, our passive scanners are picking up the Vicieus’s and Dreadnaught’s Buckle Drives,” Captain Anders said.
“This feels like a trap,” BT said.
I’m not going to lie, I was feeling a little bit of that myself; but how could all of these moving parts be involved? Could Paul, the Stryvers, and the Progs all be working on some huge, cosmic ass fucking for yours truly? And for what purpose? Although, if I took Paul’s involvement in this out of the equation it started to make more sense. Was it a reasonable assumption to think that the Progs and Spiders made some sort of deal to end us puny Humans? That had some farfetchedness to it as well. Why bother fixing our systems? And our men had deliberately stayed with them throughout the whole process. Considering we were now very proficient in Prog technology, it would have been difficult for them to sneak something past them. Still, though, they take a very capable ship commander off the bridge and they turn a blind eye when the enemy shows? Stretching the paranoia, it was important to note that Paul had made sure that the majority of his ship would be suffering some form of inebriation from the kegs. Talk about taking “Do not operate heavy machinery” to the extreme!
“Nope. That’s not what is going on,” I said. “They’ve had multiple opportunities to take this ship out or back and have not.”
“We’re being hailed on ultra-low frequencies,” Captain Anders said.
I nodded for him to put it up on the screen. “Colonel Talbot this is Commander Asuras. We are using ultra-low frequency because the range is limited and cannot be detected by the Stryvers at this distance. Is your ship operational?”
“We are, Commander. We’ve gone dark to fool the Stryvers into believing they have us under their control.”
“Very good, Colonel; though you may wish to readdress that strategy. There is a landing party heading your way. They are going to want to board and take control of that ship. That is not advisable.”
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t know, Commander, the whole choir and getting preached to thing. Why have you initiated your Buckle Drive?”
“We have detected four Arachnid Class Slayer ships in this galaxy in addition to the others. I suggest we both leave this area immediately and formulate a new strategy.”
“I take it Arachnid Class doesn’t mean Schooner or something equivalent?” I asked the room.
Dee shook his head, I think in disappointment of my lack of Stryver savvy.
“Captain, have you picked up these four ships?” I asked Anders.
“It’s faint, but there’s something out there,” he replied.
“You’re sure about this, Asuras? I’m not a fan of pulling all of Earth’s space support out of the quadrant.”
“Fire on those ships coming your way and you’ll be as sure as I am fairly quickly.” he replied.
“With pleasure,” I said.
“Mike, err, Colonel, I don’t think he meant that as a dare,” Tracy said.
“Good a plan as any. Fire us up. Target those ships and blow them fuckers out of the sky,” I ordered.
“Colonel, I…” Tracy started.
“Major! I have found myself at the helm of the most powerful ship the earth has ever known; we are about to be engaged in a battle with an enemy force nearly double our current size. I will need to make split second decisions which may or may not be right. I cannot have each and every one of them questioned. Am I clear?” She gave me a look. She understood what I had said and I understood that I was going to pay for this for years to come in other ways. I’d worry about that if and when we survived the curren
t crisis. “First things first. Can we get my grunt ass off the bridge? I asked Asuras. “Can you get the general back here?”
“He would be entirely too exposed; the immediate danger is those fighters. I would have your gunner target them first, as once they realize they are being fired upon they will be extremely difficult to take down.” Asuras said. “I am sending the coordinates for our rendezvous point.”
The captain nodded when he received them. Our lights switched from red back to white. “We’re back online,” he said.
“Gunner Turrell, the fighters first. Broad spectrum plasma pulses.” I sat in Paul’s seat. I think something made from cinder blocks would have been more relaxing. The burden and pressure I was under made it even that much less comfortable.
“It’s alright, Mike,” Paul’s voice came over the comm. “Just meet us at the coordinates and I’ll come back on board.”
“Works for me man,” I told him. “You heard the general. Splash those bastards and get us out of here.”
“That is the best course of action,” Dee said. I think he was in agreement with us all that I should not be directing the sophisticated machinery.
“See you soon,” Asuras said, and within a few seconds they winked out of existence, or at least out of our little corner of Heaven. Got to admit, felt real lonely all of a sudden. The screen shot changed to the Stryver ships; even with magnification they weren’t much bigger than a few pixels. Our streaking bright light of weapons fire was racing toward them, some of the fighters were veering off. There were some explosions—would like to say it was a grand event, but from our distance it looked like the sparks a lighter makes before ignition.
“Contact made on five of the ships. The rest are taking evasive maneuvers. The shuttles are heading back to their mother ship,” the captain said.
“Alright, we did our small part. Now get us out of here.” This was the best the chair felt since I’d parked my ass in it. Mainly because I knew I was going to be able to get up off of it in a few minutes.
A minute passed, then another. A few squadron’s worth of fighters had left the Stryver ship by this time.
“Hey, um, Captain Kray…I hate to be a pain in the ass, but we’re not moving,” I said to the driver of the ship. What the hell do you call them? Driver doesn’t sound official enough. Pilot? Yeah, I told the pilot guy.
“Sir, I’m getting reports that the Buckle Drive system is offline," the captain said.
“How about we go and put that back online then?”
“Something is wrong sir,” the captain said.
“Yes, I realize that. I am in the chair, aren’t I?”
“Sir, we have five incoming.”
“I’m going to guess it’s not fighters? Major Talbot, I need you on the controls. Major Drababan, will you assist Captain Turrell on weapons?” I asked.
They both grabbed seats. BT came over to me. “Why are you letting her drive, man? Did you see what she did with the shuttle?”
Tracy shot him a glance, and I do mean shot. Could have frozen mercury, and I’m not even sure if that’s possible.
“You’re going to want to sit down and strap in.” I pointed to a seat not more than five feet away.
“You sure?” he asked nervously.
“Yeah, pretty sure. Major Talbot, get us out of here—maximum warp or whatever they call it.”
I got more than a few uneasy stares from crewmen not at all thrilled by the foot soldier who was sitting on the throne.
“Major Drababan, what is your best guess for how long the Vicieus will wait for us before returning to our current position?” I asked.
“Difficult question, Michael. If we do not show in a half an hour they will assume something untoward has happened. At the very minimum, it will be nearly three hours before they return, if at all. If they assume we have been compromised, captured, or destroyed there is a very good chance they will not risk falling under an assault.”
“Three hours…we need to hide and evade for three hours or get the buckle system online. Captain Anders, get me engineering. I’d like to hear this from the horse’s mouth.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yeah? This is Master Sergeant Beckert. What do you want?” A gruff voice asked.
“Master Sergeant, I’m sorry to bother you. This is Colonel Talbot. We’re about to get our own ass handed to us on a paper plate and I’m wondering if you can give me a timeline on when the Buckle Drive might be available to get us out of the general area before that happens.”
“Best advice I can give you, Colonel, is you might want to grab some extra paper towels. Those cheap plates tend to leak.”
“Okay—I want to be abundantly clear because we’re talking about all of our lives here. No Buckle Drive?”
“Let’s just say you’ve got a better chance of pinching our ass into an enormous slingshot and flinging us out of this galaxy than getting this piece of fucking junk going on its own.”
“So, I’ll take that as a ‘no.’ What can you give me in the next hour?”
“Look, Colonel, all due respect but this ain’t a television show and she ain’t the Enterprise.”
“Yeah, and you’re no Scotty.” Only the major could appreciate the subtle magnitude of that insult; I think I detected the smallest grin.
A phlegmy sigh came through. “Look, Sir, we’ll keep working down here—but we’re a good forty-eight hours out…if at all.”
“Sabotage?” I had to ask.
“No; one of the couplings just disintegrated—they call it space rot. Parts get so hot and so cold it eventually affects them structurally. This would be a piece of cake if I had a replacement, but as it is, we’re fabricating with spare parts.”
“Let me put it another way, Master Sergeant. In forty-eight hours this whole ship will be spare parts. Out.” I could feel his middle finger coming through the line.
“Arachnid Class ships will be in effective weapons range in an hour,” Captain Anders stated.
“Tracy, Major. How much time can you buy us?”
“Forty-five minutes, another hour at the most. The Vicieus sent specs over; those ships are much faster than us.”
“So we’re not going to be able to run around the ring like a wary boxer?” I asked hopefully. She shook her head.
“Why are they so much faster?” BT asked.
“Technically, this is an interstellar exploration ship. Those things coming for us are primarily war machines.”
“Well, that makes me feel better,” he responded.
“An hour…we just need to squeeze out one more hour,” I said softly, though, in reality, I didn’t even know if that was realistic. The Vicieus and Dreadnaught had left because we were so outgunned; what could we possibly change that would entice them to come back? Naw, we were on our own, thoroughly and completely.
“I want ideas,” I said aloud. “Outrunning isn’t an option; waiting for help isn’t an option; waiting for repairs isn’t an option. The way I see it, our only chance, as slim as it may be, is to stand and fight. Now obviously, toe to toe isn’t going to work, so if you’ve been trying to fast-track your career, don’t be bashful. Now is the time to impress your commanding officer.”
Captain Anders has a small houseplant in his quarters—says it reminds him of Earth and what he’s fighting for. From some three decks away I swore I could hear a leaf drop and crash onto the floor.
“Hold up, hold up...I don’t want everyone speaking at once,” I said, trying to break through the absolute silence.
“What about hiding behind the moon?” Lieutenant Jasper replied. I liked Jasper, big kid from Nebraska, I think. Looked something like an offensive lineman. The fact he was as smart as a whip made a strange contrast.
I looked over to Tracy. “It’ll work for a minute; we might be able to get off some shots before they spread out and surround us. But we’ll literally have our backs to a wall at that point, though,” she said.
“What about non-essential personnel
—could we get behind the moon and then get them all off the ship unseen with shuttles?” I asked.
Tracy gave me a knowing look. We were about to say goodbye to our son for the last time.
“I think that will work,” she said. “We can be there in a half an hour.”
“Do it. Captain Anders, give me access to the ship’s comm, please,” I said.
“Yours,” he nodded.
“This is Colonel Talbot. As I’m sure you’re aware by now, our Buckle Drive is offline and doesn’t appear it will be back up anytime soon. We have five Stryver warships bearing down on us and as far as I know, there is no help coming. We are unequivocally on our own. In a half an hour we will be behind the earth’s moon, by which time I want ALL non-essential personnel aboard shuttles which will take you back to Earth safely before we engage the enemy. For those of you with family or friends onboard you will have five minutes to say goodbye, after which we will be back at our battle stations. Out.”
“Colonel. I would like to see my godson,” Dee said, turning to look at me.
The lump that formed in my throat threatened to choke the life from me. All I could do was nod my approval.
“I will bring him back here before putting him on a shuttle,” he said as he passed by me.
“Thank you.” As commander of the ship, leaving the bridge at this moment was not an option.
“He’s not so bad,” BT said.
“Not so bad.” I echoed his words; I had none of my own. It took a few minutes, but I was finally able to rein in emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. Of course, this was when Dee decided to come back. My son was all smiles, though there was a look of concern in those eyes, his mother’s eyes. He knew something was up.
