by John Walker
“Who is Sid?” Everly jumped in.
“The Artificial Intelligence, sir,” Olly replied. “It’s…well, a long story.”
“One we don’t have time for.” Gray added. “Is that all you’ve got?”
“No, sir. This ship as well as my tablet picked up the intruders coming in hot. I assume Paul’s got them up already?”
“I do, Olly,” Paul called out. “They’re really hauling.”
Everly cleared his throat and asked, “do you know who they are already?”
“This ship identified them as the enemy.”
Clea watched as the humans in the room stiffened. Even knowing the possibility didn’t prepare them for the news. Their mettle was about to be tested and whether or not this civilization survived rested entirely on their shoulders. How many of them knew that, she didn’t know but even if they didn’t have that specific information, the gravity of an attack was plenty to garner serious attention.
“How does it know?” Gray asked.
“Apparently, they already wiped out their home,” Olly explained. “But there’s a silver lining…of sorts.”
“Don’t mince words.” Gray leaned forward. “Just tell us what you’ve got.”
“Something called Protocol Seven. Sid called it a weapon against the enemy but…”
“Go on,” Everly prompted.
“When I asked it to initiate this weapon, it said it couldn’t access it without repairs.”
Redding sighed.
“What’s it going to take to get that thing operational?” Everly tapped his arm rest. “How long will you need?”
“I can’t say yet, sir. We were just cataloging the damage when the alert went off and those ships arrived.”
“We’ll buy you the time you need,” Gray said. “You’ll have to get propulsion online though. I can’t promise we can stay in this one spot.”
“Hold on, let me find out. It moved here so I’m pretty sure we can just fire up the engines again.” Olly put them on mute for a moment.
Clea turned to the others. “You know their typical tactic. Like the Blitzkrieg from your World War Two. They’re going to come in fast and hard.”
“I know.” Gray nodded. He stood and put a hand on Reddings chair. “Stephanie, I need you to initiate thrusters and start us drifting to the side. Full weapons ready to fire on my command.”
“Without a lock, sir?”
“A lock will tip our hand. Eye ball it. A full spread can do some damage or at least, slow their forward momentum. Then, we’ll really let them have it.”
“Aye, sir.” Redding tapped away at the console and began to move the ship.
“Paul, full scan on those ships,” Gray said. “I need to know what their shields are like. Everly, have the fighters ready to do harassment maneuvers. Bombers should prepare for a full pulse run on those things.”
Everly got on the com. “Revente, get your fighters into position for attack. Bomber squadrons on standby for orders.”
“They’re running combat shields, sir,” Paul said. “Far more dense than the…the Silver Star.”
“Alright, good to know.” Gray turned to Clea. “Check my facts. We have to weaken the shields for pulse bombs to cause any real damage, correct?”
Clea nodded. “Yes, but powerful as pulse bombs are, they may not be able to destroy their vessels even with weakened shields. We can, as you’ve said before, give them a bloody nose, however.”
“Might be all we need to accomplish to give Olly the time he needs.” Gray sat back down. “Agatha, send a message to Earth Defense and brief them on the situation. Hostile craft incoming and we are engaging. Inform them of our progress with the Silver Star and what we’re planning.”
“I’m on it, sir,” Agatha replied.
Everly turned to Gray. “The fighters are in position. Bombers are standing by.”
“I need an ETA.” Gray looked at Paul. “Can you give us a count down?”
“Less than ten minutes.”
“What the hell?” Everly shook his head. “How’d they get here so fast?”
“I’m reading signs of a hyperjump,” Paul explained. “Any closer and we would’ve been caught up in it.”
“Shall we raise the shields?” Everly asked Gray.
“Not yet. Get them ready. I want to lure them in.”
“They won’t fire until they are close enough to destroy us with a single shot,” Clea explained. “This makes the Captain’s plan a distinct possibility. We may well be able to take them out if we’re lucky.”
“What a victory that would be,” Gray said, “but I’m not holding my breath.”
“Seven minutes,” Paul said.”
“Are they picking up speed?” Everly sounded incredulous.
Paul nodded. “Aye, sir. Their weapons are powering up.”
“Are we in position yet?” Gray asked Redding.
“Thirty seconds at current speed. Shall I increase?”
“Enough to get us there in ten seconds.” Gray leaned forward, squinting at the view screen. “Get your finger on the trigger.”
“I’m ready to fire on your mark, sir.” Redding took a deep breath and scrutinized her screens. She made several adjustments, nodding when she seemed satisfied with what she saw. “Aim adjusted. We should be clear for a good shot.”
“Targets are now within maximum range,” Paul said. “Closing fast.”
“Give them another few moments.”
“Whites of their eyes?” Clea said.
Gray smirked. “Something like that.”
They could easily see the vessels now, their shields glowing as they plunged through space at a wildly high velocity. According to the report, they would pass over the Behemoth rather than ram into them. This remained consistent with the first attack. Their weapons seemed to be on the bottoms of their ships. Gray hummed softly as a thought occurred to him.
“Redding, roll us five degrees, port side moving up. I want to tear at their bellies.”
“Aye, sir but I’ll have to recalculate for my aim.”
“Shouldn’t be too off. Make it happen.”
The ship rumbled for a brief moment as the thrusters engaged, rolling the ship as Gray instructed.”
“They’ll be on us in less than two minutes,” Paul said. “They are weapons hot and…yes, I’m reading a surge of power. They’re about to fire.”
Gray nodded. “Fire at will, Redding.”
Space lit up as their weapons blasted away. The enemy ships didn’t get their chance to fire before the pulse shots hammered at their shields. Even without lock, many of the weapons connected with their targets. Redding’s aim turned out to be far better than Clea would’ve given her credit for.
Light compensators kicked in, dimming the view screen as blasts flashed against the enemies shields. In the soundless void of space, a litany of chaos raged in silence. The enemy ships attempted evasive maneuvers and threw off their own shots. One cleanly missed and the other grazed the Behemoth’s shields, giving it a good shake.
“Glancing hit,” Paul announced. “No damage, shields holding.”
“And on them?” Gray asked.
“Several direct hits, sir,” Paul scanned his console for a quiet moment. “Other ships are showing signs of medium and light damage. Their shields are holding but definitely weakened on the bottoms. They’ve slowed down as well and their weapons are redirecting.”
“Send in the fighters to cover the bombers,” Gray said. “Give those bastards some pulse bombs.”
“Revente, you’re clear to attack,” Everly said, the tension in his voice giving it a harsh edge. “Fighters covering bombers. Give them a serious kick in the ass before they can regroup.”
Clea leaned toward Gray. “Those fighters better be wily. They’re big enough to lock on to.”
“They’ve got good shields,” Gray replied. “They can take at least one direct hit.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“They’re f
iring!” Paul shouted. “Incoming!”
“Evasive,” Gray said to Redding, too late. The ship rattled as three direct hits splashed against the shields. The motion stopped almost as fast as it began. “Report! Damage?”
“Pulse shields holding,” Paul said. “Slight concussion damage on decks seven and eight. No casualties reported as of yet.”
“Return fire as the fighters get into position,” Gray said. “Full lock and burn.”
“Weapons locked and firing,” Redding replied, slamming her hand down on the console. Their ship shook again, this time with the force of their cannons firing back at the enemy. Another flash erupted in space as shields and pulse blasts met in a fiery explosion. “Direct hit.”
“More medium damage,” Paul said. “The fighters have engaged.”
“On screen.”
Clea stood up and watched as the fighters began harassing maneuvers around the larger vessels. Their smaller weapons caused tiny flashes all over the surface of the enemy shields, like fireworks on the American Fourth of July. Missiles flared and detonated and the bombers lumbered forward, carrying what might be a deadly payload.
“Captain, this is Olly,” they heard his voice over the speaker. “Sid has the engines up and running. We can now move.”
“Get your ass in gear, Olly,” Everly shouted. “Set course for zero-three-alpha seven. Best possible speed. We’ll be right behind you.”
“Aye, sir.”
The Silver Star engines burst to life and the ship pulled away. It turned, heading away from Earth. “Why that direction?” Clea asked. “What’re you planning, Commander?”
“To lure the enemy away from Earth,” Everly said. “And give us some more room to fight.”
More blasts erupted around them, near misses and glances. The ship rattled but held, no real damage occurred. Casualties came in, mostly from being jostled about. Fighters gave the enemy a lot of hell, keeping them mostly busy and unable to direct their focus on the Behemoth.
“Bombers are nearly in range,” Paul announced, then gasped. “Shit! One of our fighters is down!”
Everly stood. “Ejection?”
Paul paused. “No…no, sir. I’m afraid not.”
“Damn it!”
Gray looked grim. “Casualties, Commander. Their sacrifice won’t be in vain. Distance for bombers?”
“They’re practically down their throats.”
“Have them deploy and issue an RTB for all ships.” Gray said. “Once they’re clear of our blast, hit them with everything we’ve got.”
“Weapons are locked,” Redding said.
“Set a rendezvous course with the Silver Star, Tim.” Gray looked at his tablet before continuing, “as soon as the ships are all on board, gun it. I want to put some distance between us immediately. We’ll enter a rolling gun battle if we have to.”
“Bombers on speaker, Captain.” Everly tapped something on his tablet and they heard Rudy Hale speaking to his wing.
“Alright, folks, it’s time to see if these things can crack.” Rudy lacked any concern at all. No tension, no worry, no stress. He sounded like he carried on a conversation at a party with all the bluster of a man wholly unconcerned. “Fire away!”
To call them bombers was a slight misnomer. The reality involved heavy ordinance, much like bombs of old, but basically guided missiles. These devices, roughly a quarter of the size of a Wasp fighter, moved slowly but caused massive damage. When they fired them at the enemy vessels, sixteen total shots in all, they hoped for the best.
Each weapon came online, showing on the scans as if they were vessels unto themselves. They lumbered toward the enemy vessels, which engaged their engines, pulling away from the battleground. Rudy’s ships rushed back toward the Behemoth, clearing a path for the cruiser’s weapons to have an open shot.
“Bombs are away,” Everly said, “Our fighters are heading for the hangars. It’ll be tricky to dock while moving.”
“They’ve trained for it,” Gray said, “Open fire, Redding.”
Their weapons discharged, joining the bombs as they cut through the dark of space and flared the enemy shields. A few desperate volleys came back their way but the Behemoth’s shields held strong. A moment later, the bombs began to detonate, massive balls of white light pummeling the enemy’s shields.
“Direct hits all over them!” Paul cried. “Wait…I…I misread that. They’ve…”
“What?” Everly prompted. “Spit it out!”
“It seems they were able to target the bombs and knock them out before contact. Not with weapons though…some kind of signal caused them to blow early. There was some damage to the shields but nothing like we hoped.”
“They’re still pulling away,” Tim said. “Navigation shows we’re gaining distance.”
“Regrouping,” Clea corrected. “They won’t let us get away.”
“The fighters have docked,” Everly said. “And the bombers are almost all accounted for.”
“Give the Silver Star some distance,” Gray ordered. “And keep us between them and our guests. When they decide it’s time for round two, I want to give them some serious hell.”
“They won’t fall for those last tactics again, Captain,” Clea replied. “They won’t charge again.”
“Good. That means they’ll have to face us toe to toe or not at all. Either way, we’ve bought the Silver Star some time to get repaired and find us that Protocol Seven.”
“As you say, sir.” Clea turned to her own tablet. “I’ll compile data on the attack and see if I can analyze it for weaknesses, anything to give us an advantage.”
“I think we just proved we have it,” Everly replied. “This ship’s more than they can handle.”
“Don’t get cocky, Adam.” Gray went to Paul’s station and peered over his shoulder. “We might be ready for them but that doesn’t mean they don’t have some serious tricks of their own. This won’t be an easy won fight. Let’s just keep the distance advantage and get a fresh set of pilots ready. We’re going to need them.”
Chapter 9
“They’re really giving each other hell out there,” Lisa shouted from her position near one of the globes, staring at her tablet. A group of marines gathered around her, watching the screen as well. They mumbled quietly together but their excitement filled the room, despite their quiet. “The Behemoth really dished out some firepower.”
“What’re you doing?” Olly asked from his console. He monitored the engines to ensure they’d stay on, working with Sid to regulate continuous power to propulsion. Maria crouched beside him, running a diagnostic to gather the extent of damage on the ship.
“Watching the battle, sir,” Lisa replied. “The Behemoth is following us and the enemy has given them some distance. I think the first engagement’s over.”
“You’re supposed to be gathering data on those globes,” Olly said. “Focus, Lieutenant or the next battle you’re watching could be our last.”
“Can you patch our helm cams in?” One of the marines asked, followed by a litany of nodding. Olly sighed.
“Just make it quick. We have to hurry.”
Maria sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Sir, this ship’s got serious problems. My diagnostics show we need to reroute power through several conduits.”
“We can’t replace it?” Olly said.
“It would take a lot more time. I’m currently mapping out anything that hasn’t completely succumbed to corrosion but if we have to start stringing cables around…”
“We don’t have to put them through the walls, do we? Not just to get things working.”
“No, if it comes to that, we can string them down the halls…if we have enough length.” Maria shrugged. “The corridors here twist and turn. They don’t make a lot of sense. More distance will need to be covered by whatever we replace.”
“Fair point.” Olly frowned at Maria’s screen. “You’re not kidding.”
“I know, right? We’ve got a lot of work to do.”
&nb
sp; “Let’s get Sid access to this section here,” Olly pointed. “That’s the centralized computer system. Once it’s in, we should be able to gain access to data points pertaining to the Protocol Seven stuff. Plus, I figure it’s close by so shouldn’t be too bad to fix up.”
“I’m on it sir.”
Olly’s com flashed and he engaged. “Darnell here.”
“This is Gregory, sir. I’ve finished gathering readings from these devices in the hangar. They’re essentially automated repair stations. You put in spare parts and it fixes stuff up as you go. Pretty incredible tech, too. My readings suggest they could get one of those drones back to operational status in a quarter of the time a human mechanic would require.”
“Amazing. Are they online?”
“Power’s cut right now but I see the problem. Do you want me to bring them back online?”
“Get the power routed but don’t crank them on,” Olly said. “You never know when they might come in handy.”
“On it, sir.”
“I’m picking up readings in the belly of the ship,” Cathleen announced. “Did you guys do anything?”
“Kind of…” Olly replied. “I’ve been working with Sid on service restoration while Maria maps the conduits.” He addressed the console. “What’s going on?”
“Power has been routed to the fabrication chamber,” Sid replied cheerfully. “I have begun reconstructing the recently lost drones.”
Maria looked sharply up. “Is that a good idea? We didn’t have control of them before.”
“Lieutenant Darnell has restored my services to the security bay. I have ensured the programming recognizes your crew as guests and not invaders. No hostilities toward the Behemoth or her people will be initiated. You are all safe.”
“That’s a relief,” one of the marines muttered.
“What’s going on up there?” Captain Hoffner’s voice piped through the speakers. “We’re hearing a lot of activity somewhere in the ship.”
“One second, sir,” Olly said. He turned to Sid. “Will it even matter? How long does it take to generate a drone?”
