Spacer Clans Adventure 1: Naero's Run

by Mason Elliott

  She re-formed into a single ring of nine.

  They attacked the third dreadnaught, pouring fire into it, while they took another pounding themselves.

  More enemy forces closed in each second.

  “All fleets and units,” Admiral Joshua commanded. “We are about to be overwhelmed. Enemy reinforcements are coming online. Come about and keep fighting. Perform a fighting withdrawal to the Omicron line and take up your new positions as you receive them. Fight well.”

  “Copy that,” Naero said. “All ships, lets dust this bastard and break off. Flip and spin the ring fast. Disperse and evade in Echo-Whiskey-6.”

  They left the third dreadnaught in flames.

  One of her destroyers collided with another enemy ship at top speed.

  Both were obliterated.

  Naero and her remaining eight ships scattered, broke away, and then came about, limping and maneuvering back into a Romeo-Sierra-2 rearward stack formation. They fired and withdrew in good order, taking precise, long-range potshots at the enemy.

  Triax and its allies continued to reform with their arriving reinforcements and slowly advanced once again, all the while under heavy fire from the defenders.

  “Good work,” Admiral Joshua said. “We’ve bloodied them and good. Now we have to hold them again and make them pay. They’ve already lost more than one hundred and thirty ships.”

  “While we’ve lost about forty,” Aunt Sleak said. “And the enemy complement just doubled in a matter of a few hours, if anyone cares to notice. The losses we just handed them are nothing to Triax.”

  “We’ll have half of our ships back online in a matter of hours,” Klyne said. “They rejoin the fight by ones and twos. Those fixers are amazing.”

  “That’s still not fast enough,” Naero cut in. “Our foes are too many.”

  “Let them come,” Nevano Kinmal said. “My people and I are ready for them. Let them bring their numbers. We have a little surprise of our own prepared for them. Let them come.”

  And come the enemy did, full on and relentless.

  Triax knew they had the advantage, and sent their attack waves in precisely timed assaults designed to bleed them and cut them to shreds.

  On the starboard flank, the Matayans were still locked in their death struggle.

  To everyone’s horror and surprise, Triax ruthlessly opened up on both ally and foe, blasting the Matayans on both sides straight to hell.

  The Corps trap closed in around them to end the Matayan problem once and for all, and systematically annihilate the entire right flank.

  There would be no more Matayan Fleet.

  No more Matayan Empire. Ever again.

  Just more Triax slaves.

  The Matayans realized their peril too late, but turned their battered, burning ships at bay and fought stubbornly.

  Prince Nellis II attempted to flee, but the Matayans were fully hemmed in. Nowhere to run.

  Multiple hits tore his heavy cruiser to flaming pieces.

  Prince Ellis kept fighting, rallying every ship he could, trying to break the sphere of destruction tightening in on them, firing at the Matayans from every angle.

  Emperor Mellis VI drove his burning flagship over the tops of several Triaxian warships, tearing them apart even as his vessel exploded and was blasted to atoms.

  He died, cursing everyone on all sides.

  The Matayans attempted a break-out at the temporary breach he created, but massed enemy reinforcements cut them off, driving them back.

  Prime Minster Adrin’s flagship listed, almost dead in space, burning and still being rocked by concentrated heavy fire.

  A final message from Adrin cut in over their screens; he himself badly wounded, his bridge in flames.

  “Farewell, my brave people. Keep fighting for honor and victory. Prince Ellis will be your emperor now. Give my dying ship her head, one last time, as I take her out to the stars.”

  Seconds later, Adrin activated his shielded reserve jump drive in the midst of the battle.

  Several ships around him exploded.

  Adrin’s flagship became a huge antimatter bomb, and tore a tremendous path of destruction through the packed lines of scores of enemy warships.

  The Matayan Fleet broke free, and regrouped under Emperor Ellis, fighting all the while.

  At least they were no longer trapped in a kill zone.

  Now they could maneuver again.

  But even Adrin’s brave sacrifice only led to a brief respite.

  The enemy’s overwhelming superiority in numbers continued to stack up.

  Admiral Joshua and his forces tried every trick they knew.

  Naero and the other forces under Klyne and Aunt Sleak sent their dwindling attack wings in again and again.

  Shalaen disrupted enemy shields and ships until they heard she passed out.

  But the enemy kept coming. Driving them back.

  Then a multitude of bright stars like flares shot out from the mining ships on the crumbling port flank. First by hundreds.

  Then by the thousands. They slammed into the forefront of the enemy lines and penetrated right through their deflector screens.

  The resulting explosions rocked the enemy, blowing gaping holes in their vessels. Exploding some small ships entirely.

  Even the fighters could not dodge the weird, blazing missiles, and got blasted along with the warships. Against such sudden, massive destruction, even Triax had no choice but to pull back in total, broken confusion.

  Within a matter of minutes, the stunned enemy retreated well out of range and regrouped, both sides struggling to understand what had just happened. The battered, exhausted defenders had no strength to pursue their foes, even if they had wanted to.

  “What in the holy hell was all that?” Admiral Joshua demanded.

  Nevano Kinmal came in over one of the secure channels.

  “Our techs and the fixers just developed this new improved device. It’s very unstable and only lasts a few minutes, but it can penetrate the enemy flux shields and packs quite a punch at short ranges.”

  “I’ll say,” Klyne said. “How do they work?”

  Kinmal cut to vid footage of a miner woman strapped into what looked like some kind of simple assault suit.

  She switched the unit on and aimed herself at an enemy ship from the deck of a mining transport, smiling all the while. She gave an eager thumbs-up.

  An intense white ball of hot energy enveloped her. Then she shot off toward her target.

  When she hit, she blasted an enormous hole in the enemy battleship.

  “So it’s a kamikaze device,” Aunt Sleak said flatly.

  Naero gasped. They had just witnessed thousands of miners kill themselves, taking the fight directly to the enemy.

  Kinmal started trying to explain it again. “The fixers miniaturized a fusion core, a jump drive set to overload, and a shield that lasts long enough for the pilot to hit their target.”

  “An antimatter warhead,” Admiral Joshua jumped in. “But can’t we fix it on a torpedo or missile of some kind? The delivery system is…barbaric. Unacceptable.”

  Kinmal shook his head. “We tried. There wasn’t time. The devices are too unstable, and we were rapidly running out of ordnance as it was. This works. The pilots can keep the energy levels stable manually until they hit their target. The fixers can mass produce these simple attack units efficiently. They work. And it was either this or let all of us die here.

  “If it’s one thing miners have a lot of, it’s people. And they’re all of us willing to fight, and to die if need be, if that’s what it takes to defeat the Corps and give our children a better life. A life of freedom.”

  Naero bit her lip, thinking back on a time when she thought all landers worthless. Now they shamed everyone with their matchless courage and defiance.

  “Well, you’ve saved the day for us this time,” Klyne said. “But let our teks take a crack at stabilizing and using those new warheads. I agree with Admiral Joshua. Let’s
not waste any lives we don’t have to.”

  51

  Fixers swarmed over every damaged Alliance ship in the midst of the brief lull.

  Wrecks and debris got collected and towed back to the shipyards.

  Try as they might, the Allied Teks couldn’t stabilize the tiny jump warheads to be able to fit them onto any existing ordnance. The mining techs had been right. For the moment, their grim delivery system was the only way to utilize them.

  Millions of miner men and women volunteered to suit up and give their lives.

  For the sake of freedom.

  But they were held back strictly as a last resort, to keep the enemy guessing.

  Three busy hours ticked by. Many tried to grab some rest.

  Most couldn’t.

  Then a couple hundred small ships emerged from jump.

  “Are we too late to join this here shindig?”

  Captain Bully’s fat, greasy face filled the screen. His armada surrounded by a nebula of billions of fixers. “We ain’t been sleepin’ back on Boon-3. No suh. Everyone’s been a dumpin’ their junk down on us for such a long time. Now we’s gone ahead and made good use of it all. We iz here to hep. Gonna hep make thoze shiny Corps ships pay da price.”

  The typhoon of fixers worked their way throughout the reminder of the Alliance fleets.

  More ships swept in on other vectors.

  Another Shadow Fleet arrived, led by The Alamo.

  Aunt Sleak’s ships had already joined her unit with the first wave.

  Naero’s friends transferred onto her command cruiser, The Brightstar, even as the fixers swarmed over it and her fighters, putting many back together after being shot up.

  Chae and Saemar took charge of Naero’s battered fighter wings and immediately began to advise the new replacement pilots. Zhen stayed in sickbay to assist with the wounded. Tyber worked with the teks, still gaping at the fixers and their handiwork.

  There still hadn’t been time for anyone to say anything about Gallan missing from their group, but Naero guessed that, like her, they all felt it.

  They all had to stay focused on the battle at hand.

  All of them could perish within the next hour.

  A coded message reached them from Baeven, flooding all of their screens.

  Triax means to finish you all off in one final, all-out assault. They’ve waited only to analyze your new attack methods and adjust the flux of their deflector screens to resist your suicide bombs. You could try to adjust those devices to these new pulse frequencies I’m sending you. I can’t be certain they’ll work, but it’s better than nothing at all. The old ones will definitely be useless. Unfortunately, you face twenty-five new fleets closing in on Nuratine-5 from Omni, Stellar, Matashi, Krupp, and Gelden.

  Might I humbly suggest that this is the exact time to get Naero, Jan, and the Kexxian Data Matrix out of this area before the Corps capture them? That might be extremely prudent. Let me know if I can be of assistance. Fight well.

  Baeven broke off, as abruptly as he broke in.

  Klyne cut over the secured link. “I hate to agree with the outcast, but he’s right, Naero. Whatever happens here, one ship won’t make a difference either way. Take Jan and the Kexxian Matrix and jump out of here while you still can.”

  “No…I won’t leave you all,” Naero said. “I have the right to fight beside my Clan. With my friends and allies.”

  Aunt Sleak came up, her face set. “Captain Naero, as your admiral and Clan leader, I am giving you a direct order. Get out of here. You’ve done all that you can and more. But for now, it is your duty to get the Kexxian Data Matrix safely into the hands of our people and keep it out of the hands of our enemies.”

  Naero did not blink. She stood up out of her command chair and saluted. “Aye-aye, sir. I’ll see it done.”

  Aunt Sleak smiled. “I know you will. Safe journey, Captain.”

  “Fight well, Admiral.”

  Aunt Sleak put on her battle face and nodded. “You know we will. Sleak out.”

  Naero didn’t hesitate to give the command.

  “Jan, take us around the planet and clear us for jump. We’ll pass through Joshua Tech and head for Spacer skies. Get us out of here.”

  “Aye, Captain. Several Gigacorp fleets moving to encapsulate Nuratine-5. But we’ll be well away before they can attack.”

  Naero bit her lip, keeping silent about the overwhelming odds their friends and family were about to face.

  Everyone could guess what was about to happen against such odds.

  “Ready to jump,” Jan noted.

  “Hit it.”

  The Brightstar went dark and lost all power.

  It lurched to starboard as if it slammed into something hard, but they still floated in open space.

  As if something invisible had swallowed them up.

  Naero received a hurried transmission from Baeven on her wristcom.

  “You’ve been overtaken by an enemy stealth ship. They’ll board you shortly. Fight your way free if you can and get away. They’ll jam all of your–”

  Baeven broke off.

  What sounded like huge doors slammed shut around them.

  Explosions rocked the ship’s hull, most likely from boarding parties trying to gain entry.

  “Fire all weapons,” Naero ordered. “If we’re in the belly of the beast, then let’s blow a few holes in it. Maybe we can blast our way out. Launch fighters if we can.”

  Jan and the bridge crew worked frantically to bring up any of their systems.

  “We can’t get anything online,” Jan yelled from the helm. “They hit us with that new ion pulse weapon that disrupts everything.”

  “Even our wristcoms are out,” the com officer said. “Only the fixers are still working.”

  Naero punched up the hardwired intercom, her voice carrying through the ship.

  “Prepare to repel boarders. All troops. Arm yourselves to the teeth and repel boarders at all costs. We’ve been paralyzed and caught up in an enemy stealth ship to be captured. They will most likely try to take us alive at first. Use that to your advantage. Escape if you can.”

  She turned back to Jan. “Can’t our fixers do anything?”

  “They’re trying. We’ve lost all power.”

  One of the weapon teks shouted. “The fixers are bleeding power from the enemy vessel surrounding us. Main gun, back online. We think the capture ship swallowed us head first, Captain.”

  “Then fire. Fire at will. Stealth ships are complex. Let’s blow a few holes in this one and see what happens.”

  But they quickly discovered that the capture bay they were being held in was ray-shielded.

  The blasts from their main gun bounced around and struck them instead, causing serious hull damage.

  “Keep at it. We have to overload those shields.”

  A female crew member shouted a warning over the intercom, from down in their holds. “Enemy boarders have penetrated the ship. They have stealth suits. We can’t see them. Repeat, enemy boarders have–” The woman’s voice cut off and the intercom went dead after a flurry of weapons fire.

  After the sixth shot from the main gun, the ray shields finally buckled.

  Two more blasts rocked the ship holding them.

  Explosions erupted.

  From the G-forces, Naero guessed they started spinning out of control, pulled back into Nuratine-5’s gravity well.

  “Get me eyes, sensors, anything. Tell me what’s happening. Is there any way to break free?”

  The com officer piped up again. “We can see out of a rigged chain of linked fixers outside a rent in the enemy’s hull. The stealth ship’s on fire and falling back into Nuratine-5’s atmosphere. The enemy crew’s have their hands full trying to control the descent and keep from burning up or crashing us all to death. Their ship may absorb most of the re-entry damage.”

  “Any chance of breaking free?”

  “None yet, sir. We don’t even have flight power.”

  “Defen
d the bridge. Everyone get ready for a fight after we crash. If we survive.”

  “Sir, their jamming is down,” her XO said. “Something is firing on us from nearby, but we can’t make anything out.”

  “Another stealth ship? A cloaked ship?”

  Baeven.

  Naero sent out a call. “Cease fire. Stop firing on the enemy stealth ship. We’re disabled and crashing back onto the surface of Nuratine-5. You’re going to kill us all.”

  Baeven cut in.

  “Try to survive Naero. The Clans have come. Each one sent ships. The battle’s a toss-up now. Both sides will try to retrieve you and Jan from the crash site. See you down there.”

  “Wait, wait! How many ships did they send?”

  Baeven laughed. “A thousand.”

  Naero gaped.

  She heard their voices booming over all channels.

  “Enemies of the Clans take heed. Clan Patton sends twenty-two warships to fight beside Clan Maeris. Death to all foes. Remember The Omaria!”

  “Clan Aztec sends fifteen ships. We will fight beside the daughter of Lythe and Tarthan!”

  “Clan Wilde will bleed for Clan Maeris. Death to Triax!”

  “For freedom! For The Omaria! Clan Donovan sends a dozen ships.”

  “Haisha! We are with you, Clan Maeris. Clan Apache sends forty of our finest warships!”

  Each of the forty-nine Spacer Clans had responded to her call for help.

  Sending the combined equivalent of twenty fleets.

  Twenty fleets of advanced Spacer warships, closing in on Triax in fury and vengeance.

  Naero wanted to weep for joy. For the pride and honor of her people.

  But at the moment, she needed to find a way to keep her and her people from dying.

  Baeven’s transmission broke up as they entered the atmosphere.

  They were about to burn up and die along with their enemies.

  Naero called upon Om.

  52

  Om. We’re about to die. Any suggestions?

  The enemy vessel surrounding us is heating up rapidly. You are correct. With all of our shields down, our current form will not survive the re-entry, or the crash.

  Options.

  I can do little. Only you have the ability to save us now.