by John Walker
Two green blasts sizzled by her cockpit, attacks which barely missed. She jammed her controls to the right and spun, bringing her front end in line with two of the drones. “No time for lock,” she muttered, eyeballing her reticle and pulling the trigger for the pulse cannons. Purple-white beams leaped from the cannons near the nose, tearing through space and terminating in a ball of white light.
“Splash six,” Meagan announced. The cockpit heated up and she knew it’d get hotter. Every use of her pulse weapons cooked the ship a little and though the sinks would keep her from boiling, comfort was a tertiary concern. Effectiveness mattered a lot more.
“They’re all over me!” The announcement made Meagan glance to the left just as three of the drones converged on Panther Eight, Kelly Parson. One of the newest members of her unit, the young lady could handle herself and she spun and dove to get away. The AI kept up, throwing shot after shot at her but so far, intuitive flying kept her alive.
“Panther Seven, where the hell are you?” Meagan diverted her course and headed in to aid the other pilot. “Panther Two, form up and watch my six.”
“Affirmative,” Mick Replied.
“This is Panther Seven, I’ve been hit!” Richard Martin, Kelly’s wingman, shouted into the com. “I’ve got operational control but my weapons are offline!”
“Disengage, Panther Seven,” Meagan dodged to the right as one of the drones nearly collided with her. Another danger of AI came from their lack of concern for kamikaze tactics, especially if a foe proved to be capable of out flying them. “Panther Eight, hold on. We’re almost there.”
The other wings from the Behemoth were just engaging but Panther was hip deep in the battle. Drones whizzed by as little more than green blurs, their shields leaving tracers in their wake. The AI didn’t appear to employ any guided weapons systems so they didn’t have to deal with missiles but the design made them tiny projectiles without it.
“Has anyone been able to get a lock?” Panther Three shouted. “I’m having to guess every shot!”
“Negative,” Panther Four replied. “Computers can’t keep up.”
Jesus, we barely can. Meagan thought, spinning her ship to avoid a collision and entering a heavy dive. It took her out of the mix bowl of violence just long enough to recover, slam the controls to the right and accelerate back into the fight. The magnets whined as they battled inertial and her bones strained from the tension.
A drone moved in behind her and a red light flashed on her scans. They have a lock, huh? Okay then, let’s try this.
She tilted her stick to the right, allowing the incoming attack to blast over and under her ship. Let’s play follow the leader, you prick. It would be a dangerous game but one she hoped to use to her advantage.
“Um, Panther One, you are being seriously groped by that drone,” Panther Two said. “I’m moving to engage.”
“I’ve got this, Mick,” Meagan said, but she fell silent as she fell into deep concentration, focusing all her attention on the subtle maneuvers required to avoid being blown to hell. The drone fired three more times before she got it into the position she wanted. As she plunged full speed into a cluster of other drones, she started a mental countdown from five.
Five…
Another two blasts singed her paint, glancing off the shields. I don’t have too many of those. Pulse blasts will wear down shields. The only thing more effective are missiles.
Four…
This time, she took a direct hit but the shields held. Her HUD expressed the danger of another hit and advised against it in the same cold, calculated manner that their enemies conducted themselves in the fight. I’m almost there, c’mon girl. You’ve got this.
Three…
Meagan took her fighter down, avoiding another blast, before climbing back to her original heading. The other drones were less than two hundred kilometers away, a heart beat in space combat.
Two…
The drone drew closer and she fought hard to keep her reserve. This would only work if she had nerves of steel, the kind that allowed her to face down three more drones which got wind of her and started a collision course. Okay, this might’ve been the stupidest idea you’ve had in a few lifetimes.
“One!” Meagan shouted the word and climbed, jamming on the brakes. The drone chasing her fired and dusted one of his own. The other two couldn’t slow down. A collision jarred her vessel and Meagan spun the ship so her front faced the carnage. The last of her attackers seemed to be damaged and she used maneuvering thrusters to get a bead…pulled the trigger…
“And that would be three.” Meagan announced over the com as another white ball burst and disappeared in the blink of an eye. “How’re we doing, Giant control?”
“Be advised, there are six drones left.”
Holy crap, we were really on it. Meagan looked around the battlefield and joined back up with Panther Two. Other vessels were tearing it up, veering here and there as they wrapped up engagements with the enemy AI. Debris bounced off their shields, thousands of pieces of computerized space crafts drifted about, becoming a hazard to civilian space travel.
Cleanup crews will be pissed about this one.
“Giant control, this is White Knight One. We have finished the final engagement. No other hostiles on scan.”
“Affirmative,” Giant control replied. “Good job but stay alert. If anything else comes out of that thing, shoot it down.”
“This is our sky now, sir,” Meagan replied. “We won’t give it up to anyone.”
“I’ll hold you to that, Meagan. Revente out.”
Chapter 6
“The fighters successfully destroyed the drones,” Everly announced. “Casualty reports coming in.”
“Patch them through to my tablet,” Gray said. He sat in his chair and looked over the results. They lost one ship and four more were damaged. Not bad considering the odds but still, worse than he’d hoped for. “Did we recover the pilot from the downed ship?”
“Their ejection pod has been located and we’re bringing in their core as well,” Everly replied. “They’re reporting minimal injuries but we won’t know until they hit the sick bay.”
“Better than it could’ve been, worse than I wanted.” Gray set the tablet down. “Redding, get us in closer but boost our shields. I don’t want any surprises from that thing. If it starts shooting, I want full weapons lock.”
“Aye, sir. Maneuvering thrusters activated.” Redding paused as she tapped away at her console. “Weapons targeted and locked. Distance?”
“Get us within two hundred kilometers,” Olly said. “That should be plenty for me to finally pierce their defenses and finalize our data.”
“Okay,” Redding engaged the thrusters and the ship started moving. “ETA, five minutes.”
“Make sure the fighters clear our path,” Gray said.
Everly hit the com control. “Revente, keep your pilots out of our wake.”
“Pretty sure they know that without me telling them,” Revente replied. “But I’ll remind them not to get tossed out into deep space.”
Everly shook his head. “He gets a little pissy with the obvious ones.”
“Understandable,” Clea said. “I’ve found most humans prefer to be given the benefit of the doubt. Unfortunately, they so rarely deserve it.”
“Ouch, Clea.” Everly clicked his tongue. “Not exactly a kind observation about my people.”
“I’m not trying to be cruel.” Clea shrugged. “Let’s just say there’s a reason soldiers receive orders and people require bosses. Even in my culture, we do have the occasional person who needs corrective action.”
“Bring Marshall on the line,” Gray said. “Tell him his men better be ready for deployment.”
“Marshall, are your boys ready to go?” Everly asked.
“They’re in the drop ship but you’d better have more to give me or I’m going to need to draft everyone on board to take that thing.”
“We’re working on it now,” Ev
erly replied. “Relax. We’ll feed our scans to your tablet in a few minutes.” He muted the com. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Olly.”
“I do.” Olly glanced back and smiled. “I’ve had plenty of time to study this thing and the drones gave me some insights as well. I’m coding a new algorithm to get through any interference, radiation or otherwise. This should give me a good indication of what’s going on inside and potentially, I’ll be able to access any sort of visual equipment they have.”
“Won’t it be coded in such a way that it won’t be compatible with your software?” Clea asked. “Or are you using…” Her eyes widened. “Wait a minute, you’re not using our universal translation code, are you?”
Olly’s cheeks flushed. “Yes, Ma’am…”
“Where’d you get that?” Clea spun on Gray. “Who granted him access to that data?”
“If I’m not mistaken, Lieutenant Darnell has top clearance for computer based applications.” Gray shrugged. “He probably has access to better programs than I do. Hell, he wrote half the ones they’re using at the academy now. Why? What’s wrong?”
“Someone unfamiliar with our protocols could cause some pretty serious damage with that code, Captain.” Clea folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. “I…feel we need to continue this conversation in private.”
“And just as soon as we’re not in the middle of an operation, I’ll listen to your complaint through an entire shift. Right now, I think we should be grateful that Olly took the initiative or we wouldn’t get as far as we are with this ship.”
Clea shook her head but remained silent, staring out the viewport.
“How long before your new application is ready?” Everly asked.
“A few more minutes…I’ll have it in plenty of time to use it when we’re in position. Then the marines can do their thing.”
“You might need to access hangar control,” Gray said. “I don’t really want our men having to cut through whatever that is…if we even can.”
“Understood. But my scans will show me any weak points in the event we have to breach their hull.”
“Sounds good.” Gray sat back to wait, one of the hardest things to do as a commander. Everyone around him buzzed through their jobs, coordinating the preparations for a landing, managing the pilots and receiving reports from all over the ship in relation to normal operations. The Behemoth was proving to be a well oiled machine on her first real mission and it filled him with pride…and no small amount of relief.
***
“We’re in position,” Redding said. “Go ahead, Olly.”
“Already on it.” Olly put his findings on the view screen for all to see. “It’s working! We have access to their information and I have the lifeforms they referred to in their message. There’re quite a few.”
“Probably not as many as there should be for an entire race,” Gray said. “Where are they onboard?”
“They seem to be in the center.” Olly tapped at the screen and the view changed, moving the vessel in a circle so they saw it from the top. “Here, roughly dead center.”
“Defenses?” Everly asked. “Internal? Automated? Robots?”
“They seem to have automated defenses all attached to three redundant network stations, which are surprisingly not as alien as expected.” Olly cleared his throat. “I’ll just um…use this code to tap in…”
Clea sighed.
“Sorry, Miss An’Tufal.” Olly worked his controls like a pianist playing one of Chopin’s etudes. Redding started to say something but he shushed her without looking up, his eyes wide with concentration, face scrunched up in a scowl. An alarm went off, a flashing red light followed by a beeping. “That’s okay, don’t worry about it, I’ve got it under control…ish…mostly…”
“Olly…” Everly warned. “What the hell are you doing?”
“The most delicate work of my career, sir.” Olly replied. He picked up the pace just when Gray figured there was no way he could move his fingers faster. The alarm abruptly stopped and the light went out. The young technician flopped back in his seat and let out a deep breath, brushing sweat from his brow. “Okay then.”
“What did you just do?” Redding demanded. “What was all that?”
“I was hacking into their computer system,” Olly said, “when I tripped what would be easiest to describe as their firewall. It…well…it tried to counter hack our computer.”
“What?” Gray asked. “I don’t think I heard you right. We almost got hacked?”
“Sort of. I mean, their AI gave it a college try but I’m…well, I’m pretty good at this.”
“You shouldn’t have been better than their computer,” Clea said. “You took quite a gamble with the universal code. If you’d made a real mistake, that machine could’ve used the code to easily hack us.”
“They didn’t,” Gray interrupted. “Good work, Olly but next time you decide to endanger everyone on board, do make sure you tell us before hand.”
“Aye, sir.” Olly swallowed hard.
“So what did your little hack get us?”
“Access to docking procedures. I don’t see any databases so those are isolated.” Olly paused to read something. “I can get us aboard but in order to gather more data, someone needs to patch in directly.”
Gray moved to look over Olly’s shoulder. “So you can keep that hangar open?”
“Yes, or rather, I can keep it open.” Olly scrutinized the system. “Their guns are offline in there so we won’t be attacked right away. Whatever tech we send can access a terminal and use my code to take control of security too…theoretically.”
“Send this information to Marshall,” Gray said. “Can we get them landed in ten minutes?”
“I’m certain of it.” Everly turned to make the arrangements.
Gray considered the screen. “Looks like over one hundred people in there. Do you know what will initiate a wakeup sequence?”
“I’m not sure, sir,” Olly said. “Those systems aren’t available for remote access. I’d have to be on board to figure it out.”
Redding smirked. “You want to go hang out with the marines?”
“Er…not particularly. Not because they aren’t cool but just… you know I just…don’t like field work much.”
“Tough,” Everly said. “Once they’ve secured the area, we’ll send you over to take a look. Maybe you can find their databases and we can fill in some of these gaps we’ve identified today.”
“Oh…sounds great, sir.” Olly slumped in his seat.
“I’d like to go as well,” Clea said. “I need to see these people myself.”
Gray nodded. “Sounds good. You’ll have operational command over the technical staff. Marshall maintains security.”
Clea nodded. “Understood.”
“Everly, let’s get those marines aboard and take this ship.” Gray returned to his seat. “I want the Silver Star under our control as soon as possible.”
Clea smirked. “Naming the ship now, are we?”
“It seems fitting,” Gray replied. “Proceed with the operation, Commander.”
***
Marshall Dupont stood in his tactical room with two aides, watching the screen as the drop ship departed for the foreign vessel. He wore a grave expression, hands held tightly behind his back. Sending good men into unknown situations irked him but he agreed they needed to take the ship. With no indication whether they’d encounter opposition, he didn’t feel good about putting lives at risk.
Captain William Hoffner commanded the boarding operation. He left with two squads, twenty six men each. His objective was to establish a beach head so the next two squads could board with a technical team in tow. Together, they would take the vessel, access the computer system and gather all available data.
The second wave followed the first, giving them plenty of space to board and report back. Intelligence stated tech crews were unable to access the defensive matrix aboard the vessel so remote hacking wouldn’t
work. Despite the friendly message from the ship, they’d already proven to be aggressive with their drones.
Were they actually there for a fight, using the message as a ruse? Or did something malfunction? Reports suggested the ship had been in transit for a long time. Damage or merely a lack of maintenance might account for problems. He knew some of the men hoped the drones simply went crazy but he knew better than to rely on wishful thinking.
“This is Captain Hoffner,” Will’s voice crackled over the speakers. “We are on approach vector. Shields are fully powered and we have not experienced any hostile activity. Next update in one minute.”
“Acknowledged.” Marshall replied. “Cameras are live. All signals are strong.”
The drop ship approached, closing in on the open hangar. A nose sensor provided data back to the command center. Darkness bathed the hangar, making the entrance an oppressive maw. Fortunately, they gathered decent information about the interior and knew enough to make a tactical landing.
Life support functioned inside, meaning it would support life but regardless, Marshall had his men in armored environmental suits. If the drones did malfunction, anything could. The last thing he wanted was a death due to something as mundane as a lack of oxygen or a sudden burst of radiation from open space.
At least Atwell and the bridge crew let him do his job without meddling. One of the best parts of serving aboard the Behemoth was the autonomy to handle missions however he saw fit. Their contribution tended to be limited to stating an objective and trusting he’d get them done. He made a deal before he came on board related to the situation.
He wouldn’t tell them how to conduct a naval battle, they wouldn’t bust his chops over ground ops.
“Entering the ship,” Will announced. “Kicking on the lights.”
Marshall watched as the hangar illuminated, revealing smooth walls and neatly ordered mechanical devices standing from floor to ceiling. At first guess, he figured they must be used to repair the drones if they return from a mission but they didn’t look like anything on Earth with their thin arms and dozens of tendrils hanging from silver box frames.
