by Chris Hechtl
“Frack! We'll deal with that later. Find that fracker and frag his ass!”
“Yes, sir!”
<(>~^~<(>
Jethro killed any crew that encountered him as he moved about the ship. But each body he left behind was a potential clue to where he was. When he could he stashed the body into a hiding spot. When the airlocks closed cutting him off, he chose a different path.
“We're not going to get there blowing doors,” he said when Bast placed a schematic up to blow the door. “I've got a better idea,” he said, changing course.
Like water he followed the path of least resistance, ever aware of a trap. But his idea meant getting out of the corridor, into a compartment, then blowing a hole through the bulkhead near the closed lock and then he could continue moving forward.
He changed course twice; he didn't want them to get an idea on where he was going. Wherever possible he paused long enough so they could access and then damage the ship's systems. Twice Bast uploaded a virus to get through the ship's internal firewalls, but the A.I. was cut off when someone came near and Jethro had to retract.
When Bast noted a security detachment near him he got around them and hit them from behind. A single toss of a grenade in their midst was enough to thin them out. Then he picked the survivors off before they could narrow down where he was firing from.
“Get into the computers. You can't hack them through their WiFi?”
“There is no signal,” Bast stated.
“Damn it,” Jethro snarled. He picked up a communication headset. “Find out what frequencies they are on and listen in,” he said, placing his hand over it. She sent out a tendril of nanites out to hack the device. She quickly got the encryption keys and frequencies. He heard a bit of static then voices in his helmet.
“Filter it for me please,” he ordered. “Can you get into their network now?”
“Somewhat. But if I make a move through the communications, they will know. It is also limited in bandwidth.”
“Find a computer station we can use then,” he said.
“Behind this bulkhead. Two corridors over,” Bast reported, putting a map up. There was a knot of people between them and their new destination. Not a problem Jethro thought, checking his rifle before he moved out.
<(>~^~<(>
“I think we have something here,” Captain Truex said to Captain Omni McCartney on Tweedle Dee after they made contact.
“And what is that?” the ensign asked, eying his nominal superior officer.
“An opportunity,” the Veraxin clacked, rubbing his truhands together for a moment before he pointed to the plot. “The enemy seems to have their own shipping.”
“So?”
“So, they've separated from them. And they are ignoring us, so intent on running down the other ships.”
“And we can't escape. Well, you could. I can't. I've damn near run Tweedle Dee dry keeping out of their range. We don't have enough fuel to jump.”
“No, but we can do the one thing they won't expect.”
“And what's that?”
“Attack.”
<(>~^~<(>
When the two destroyers came into range of the lurking missiles, Farragut waited until they were less than a half million kilometers out and then triggered them. The computers in the missiles received their orders a moment later and fired up their drives.
Distracted by the armored titan in their guts and the damage he was inflicting, Idiot's Array didn't see the missiles initially. A gun crew on the port side did and started firing on them, alerting the other gunnery crews on that flank that something was up. They too started to fire into the void.
That alerted the bridge that something else was going on, something outside was a threat. “What the hell do they think they are firing at?” the captain demanded.
The tactical officer held a hand to his ear and then grimaced. “Sir, two missiles are off our port side and closing!”
“CIC makes it ten seconds until they detonate.”
“Then kill them!”
“We're trying to, sir! The guns have lost power!”
“Damn it!”
One missile had dodged the incoming laser fire and then gotten back on course behind its sibling. When its sibling entered the final engagement zone, she sent a signal to her partner to get clear and then detonated her ten megaton warhead against the ship's shield.
Missile 2 caught the edge of the blast but a nuke in space was only a serious threat if you were at its heart. There was no pressure wave to do additional damage. Just a pretty purple and blue firework and then a fade out to radiation. The missile wavered, however; its RCS firing wildly before it got back on course and detonated as the Nelson's shields crumpled from the first detonation. The buckling shields absorbed some of the damage but not enough. Half of the destroyer's port flank was scoured away by the brief hellfire of a sun. Her shield emitters on her port side also went into overload, some of the nodes exploding like overripe fruit.
<(>~^~<(>
The ship bucked as she took hits, rocking slightly before she settled down once more. “What was that?”
“We just took a pair of missile hits. Port side,” Bast reported.
“You got that from their radio net?”
“Yes.”
“Damn it, our own people are trying to kill us. Just great.”
“Computer terminal on your left. Three Tangos on your right,” Bast reported.
Jethro turned and fired smoothly, taking out the two techs and security grunt then turned and jacked the suit into the terminal with his left hand.
Bast immediately launched herself and hacked the Nelson's computer network. She wasn't in the critical systems so she set up a series of bots to map the system, find the index, and gather what intel they could. Thousands of spider bots swarmed out of her to tear into the ship's computer databases. They copied files from the computers and then unleashed viruses into the network.
<(>~^~<(>
“Sir, we're being hacked! From near where the boarder was last reported!” The ops officer stated, pecking desperately at his board. He froze and then banged on it impotently. “Damn it! The computer froze!”
“Cut them out! Cut out that section of the ship from the network. Find that bastard and kill him now!” The captain ordered.
“Sir, what if we cut off the gravity and air. Will that slow him down?”
“He just came here across the void. You honestly think that will stop him or slow him down?” The captain demanded scathingly. The rating who suggested it hunched his shoulders and went back to work.
“Yeah, I didn't think so,” the captain growled. The XO was down in engineering trying to deal with the damage.
“Sir, our sensors and fire control have been dropped into local loops. We're fighting almost blind here, sir!”
“I've lost some helm control! Going to backups!” the helm rating stated.
“What next,” the captain snarled.
<(>~^~<(>
The enemy reacted swiftly by cutting the net up into sections. It cut off their firepower and threw their fire control into local control nets. It also forced the ships to back off from attacking the frigates, or at least cut back on their engines until they were barely keeping apace of them.
“We've gotten our people some breathing room. Pity you can't do more.”
“They reacted too fast. We need to get to another terminal. This one is finished.”
Jethro raised his rifle to smash it, but the armor froze. “Don't! I set it up to send viruses into their network!”
“Oh,” Jethro said, sheepishly dropping his arm and weapon. “Why didn't you say so?”
“I just did.”
“Come on, let's get moving before they narrow down where we were at.”
“Agreed.”
<(>~^~<(>
“Sir, the picket!”
“What about her?” Captain Kerinski asked absently, eyes intent on Idiot's Array and her damage. It looked bad, but T
ion had it under control, or at least he hoped so. His eyes cut to the ships trying to get away. “Not for long,” he murmured darkly. If he had his numbers right, they had about four more hours before he could overhaul them and get into weapons range again. When he did he planned on finishing them once and for all. He'd get his revenge for the humiliation and damage they'd put his ship through as well as his division mate. Now if Tion could just get a handle on the boarder and damage control … he winced in sympathy as he turned slowly to the CIC rating.
“She and the other corvette, the one that limped off, they are going after the tenders!”
“They're doing what?!?” he demanded, rising out of his chair. The woman pointed helplessly to the plot.
“Helm, bring us around. Order the freighters to get to us max speed!” He snarled, using his hands to pantomime what he wanted them to do. “Frack!”
<(>~^~<(>
Tweedle Dee didn't have much fuel to build up a lot of speed, but Captain's Lady was another story. They had split up and then came in on the freighters on a scissor. Captain McCartney wasn't thrilled about hitting unarmed freighters but … He grinned as the plot changed.
“Sir, the destroyers have broken off pursuit of the other forces!”
“I see it,” he said mildly as his ship arrowed in to the alarmed sheep. They were lumbering to get away and to the shelter of the Nelsons. “Helm, change course to plan Baker. We'll get one firing pass on them, enough to give them a good shake up. Make it count.”
“Aye sir, plan Baker,” the helmswoman stated, altering their course subtly. It would keep them out of the Nelson's firing arch but only give them a short window for a long range pass on the freighters.
“Sir, Captain's Lady is going deeper in. She's not following the plan.”
“That damn crazy bug,” the captain said, shaking his head.
“We're entering extreme range now, sir,” the tactical officer said.
“Give them hell guns. Energy weapons only. Make it count.”
“Aye, sir. Bawling sheep in five …,” the Neomutt grinned. “Four …”
Invisible beams licked out to hit the freighters. Their shields and the extreme range kept them from taking any damage initially, but it spurred on their efforts to jink and run faster.
Immediately the Nelsons turned away from the Federation ships, intent on protecting their own shipping. Many of the Federation people let out a long held breath at the sudden unexpected reprieve from death.
It wasn't quite over though; Captain Truex brought Captain's Lady in on a firing pass on the freighters, keeping them between the enemy warships and his own ship. He made one firing pass, enough to knock down the shields of one of the freighters before he withdrew. The Nelsons volleyed fire after him, but his ship seemed to kick up her heels and roll away out of their envelope.
<(>~^~<(>
Jethro ran into a ten-man work party and killed them. Bast identified one as the XO. He grunted but kept going on. “At this rate we just might kill everyone on board,” he said, “if they let us.”
Bast flicked her ears at him in a shrug. He nodded once and kept moving.
<(>~^~<(>
“We can't stop him. He's in powered armor, sir. He's just cutting everyone apart. If we try to lock him down, he just blows a hole in a bulkhead and goes around. All we're doing by throwing bodies at him is slowing him down, sir. And we're running out of bodies,” the tactical officer said quietly, looking at the captain desperately.
“And you don't know how to kill him before he takes my ship?”
“No, sir. We're almost out of security forces.”
“Arm the crew. I want everyone to report in every five minutes to their section head. If we have to, we'll flood compartments. No one has seen him?”
“The first contact said he is cloaked, sir,” the tactical officer reported, looking down at his tablet.
“Frack. A ghost. Great.”
“He's near the bridge, sir. Two corridors away,” a rating said. The bridge crew looked up in alarm. “We've got every bulkhead door closed, but that won't last long, sir. Security is on its way but ….”
The captain went to the weapons locker and pulled out the four pistols there. He silently passed them out to the tactical officers and then to the nearest rating by the door. He silently held his up. “I'm not going down. Not without a fight.” Suddenly his eyes gleamed dangerously. “And if I am going to go down, I'm going to take that fracker with me,” he snarled, headed with final dark purpose for his couch.
<(>~^~<(>
An alarm klaxon wailed insistently. Jethro had tuned most of them out. He was normally the cause for them, but this one had the lights flashing red. He looked at a wall screen and blinked when it scrolled self-destruct and a countdown.
“Frack!”
“You see that mother fracker?” the captain said from the overhead. He looked up and then turned. “If I'm going down, you're going with me. One way or another you're not taking my ship,” the captain snarled.
“Jethro …”
“I see it. Plot us a way out of here fast,” Jethro said.
“The boat bays are powered down. We'll have to EVA again,” Bast said as she put a plot up, and he took off at a trot. He dropped to all fours and went into a bounding run, even passing a few crewmen along the way. Bast used his tail to lash out at a few of them, cutting them down if she was in range. Most were just thrown off their feet with bone breaking force.
He got to the airlock and paused. He cycled it, then had Bast override the outer lock and cycled that too. He hung on and watched the air sucked out of the compartment and corridor until doors slammed shut. He heard the distant slamming of doors before the vacuum cut the sound off totally. It was an eerie silence.
“He still hasn't shut the self-destruct off, Gunny. We need to evac,” Bast urged, putting the countdown up on his HUD.
“I was hoping he'd think we're gone and shut it off.”
“And if we go on a rampage again, then what?” Bast asked. “He'll set it off again for real.”
“Not if we get him first. Sneak in ….” When the countdown didn't stop and got to fifteen seconds, he exhaled. “Yeah no,” he said, getting into the lock. He climbed out but held on. When it got down to ten he kicked off hard enough to get himself clear of the ship and hopefully clear of any blast.
<(>~^~<(>
“Sir, something just passed through our shields. They are down again,” the tactical officer said as the countdown got to five. He looked desperately at the skipper.
“Abort countdown. Authorization Alpha one niner Omega. I repeat, Alpha One Nine Omega,” the captain said, tapping the same set of alpha numerics into his keyboard. He winced when he noticed the countdown stopped on one. That had been cutting it a bit too close. He turned to the tactical officer who was so pale he was ready to faint. “Guns, find that bastard and fry him before he gets back on board.”
“We can't see him, sir. He's still cloaked,” the tactical officer stated, shaking his head.
“Bastard,” the captain muttered, scowling at the plot. “Get us out of here. Set course for the B-452c jump point.”
“Sir?”
The captain worked his jaw for a moment before replying. “We still have a mission to complete. And we can't haul around those freighters and chase the frigates. We're just wasting fuel.”
“But sir …”
“I gave an order. Do it,” the captain said darkly, eying the tactical officer as he rested his hand on the gun in his lap.
Jed nodded quickly. The skipper was in a murderous mood; it was best to just go along and do as he was told he judged. “Yes, sir,” he said instantly, moving to obey. “You heard the man. Let's get that shield back up and our damage under control,” he said, waving to a rating and then pointing to the engineering screen. “And get the communications back up. We'll need to inform the rest of the group,” he snarled.
<(>~^~<(>
When he got off the ship, Jethro drifte
d, expecting an explosion. His shields flickered and then dropped a moment after the countdown hit zero. Then the cloak reengaged.
“What happened? Where's my Earth shattering kaboom?” he demanded.
“It stopped.”
“So …”
“So we're cloaked to hide.”
“Can we get back …?” Bast shook her head interrupting that thought. “Frack,” he muttered, going supine as he took in the view. “So it was a bluff.”
“Or he sensed when we passed through their shields,” Bast said with a flick of her ears.
“What's done is done I suppose,” he said sourly as he watched the ship get underway once more and retreat to the B-452c jump point with the other pirate ships. He had mixed feelings about watching the ship depart.
“Next time we disable the self-destruct right off,” he said after a long moment. Bast surprised him by chuffing in laughter. It was infectious, after a moment he too joined in as well.
<(>~^~<(>
An hour later Bast sent out an encrypted signal with his IFF to the Rose. A short time later a shuttle appeared on their passive sensors. He decloaked and was picked up. He directed them to pick up his flight pack in passing. They would refurbish it; something told him he'd need it again.
“You're crazy you know that?” The shuttle pilot said from the overhead. “But thanks.”
“Heh, it worked. And yeah, I thought it was crazy too.”
“Then why do it?” the copilot asked. Jethro looked up and then sat back, slouching a bit. He took off his helmet and flicked his ears to the flight engineer. “Because someone had to do it.”
He heard a gargled response and then the intercom cut out. He rested his head against the headrest and closed his eyes. “I'm officially pooped. Wake me when we land.”
“Thanks, Gunny. From all of us,” the flight engineer said, saluting him. “I owe you a beer.”
“Put it on my tab,” Jethro replied lazily. He saw Bast flick her ears and grin on his HUD. “Not bad, not bad at all,” she said softly. “Tobias would be proud.”
