Survival Strategy

by Anders Raynor

  Jason nodded, a ball of molten lead swelling in his throat.

  “Take me with you,” the boy begged. “Please. I don’t like it here. Mom and da…they’re gone. Many are sick.”

  I never had a human childhood. But this little guy deserves one.

  “Yes, you’re coming with us,” Jason said on impulse.

  “Wait, not so fast,” Varez protested, raising his hands. “That wasn’t part of our deal.”

  “We’re taking the kids.” Jason’s tone was serene but firm. “As many as we can take.”

  Varez rolled his eyes and cursed in low voice. “But they’re safer here, don’t you get it?”

  Jason ignored him and shouted, “Who’s in charge here?”

  A short middle-aged man in a beige coverall, surely the chief medic, strutted to him. “Who are you?”

  Jason introduced himself and offered to take all orphans offworld. The medic frowned, pondered Jason’s offer for a few seconds, and agreed. He explained that the Taar’kuun used biological and chemical weapons against the human survivors, and medication was in short supply. Lack of food and drinking water also figured on the list of life-threatening problems. Kids weren’t safe even in underground shelters, and they were a drain on the resistance’s dwindling resources.

  Varez objected again, but Jason was already ordering the marines to take the orphans to the vehicles.

  “No point in arguing with you, I suppose,” Varez said with a resigned sigh. “If the op goes sour, I won’t take the wrap for you.”

  “You didn’t take the wrap for me five years ago,” Jason replied. “I don’t expect you to do it now.”

  10

  The chase

  Riley followed the movements of hostile ships on the map. One of them was getting dangerously close.

  “Captain, they’re searching for us,” she said.

  Hunt’s unblinking stare was fixed on the tactical screen. “I concur. They know we’re in the system.”

  “They couldn’t have followed us all the way from the Shield, right, captain?” Mitsu asked.

  “Tracking jump-capable ships is extremely difficult,” Hunt replied. “The only reliable method is to put a tracker on the ship you want to follow.”

  “Are you suggesting that someone installed a tracker on one of our ships?” Riley asked.

  Hunt shook his head. “I doubt that. If that were the case, the Biozi would’ve found and engaged us by now. The tracker could be on the smuggler ship. We scanned it, but we could’ve missed the bug. Driven by sophisticated AI, biosynthetic spies can sneak on board and hide in the most unusual places, such as the biomatter recycler, for example.”

  “Then why didn’t the Biozi go after the transport?” Archer asked. “Why are they searching for us?”

  “Because we’re a high-value target,” Hunt explained. “But they’ll come after the blockade runner too, maybe assault it while it’s on the ground.”

  “Captain, we’re not abandoning our people on Vega, are we?” Riley asked, striving to keep her voice flat despite her anxiety. She still couldn’t grasp why Hunt had sent Jason and a squad of elite marines to the occupied planet, knowing the risks.

  “You should know by now that we never abandon our people,” Hunt replied. To the battlegroup, he ordered, “All personnel to battle stations. Condition red. We’re engaging the hostiles.”

  Everyone on the Remembrance’s bridge glanced at him.

  O’Neil called on the senior officer’s channel. “Captain, you should’ve consulted with me before giving that order.”

  “We don’t have time for debate. We can’t avoid detection much longer, and we need to take the initiative.” To the pilot Hunt said, “Archer, plot a micro-jump to Vega-IV.”

  “Captain!” O’Neil raised his voice. “What about jump inhibitors? What about orbital and ground-to-orbit defenses? We’ll be pulverized the second we jump in.”

  “Blaze sent valuable intel on planetary defenses. I’ve found a weakness we can exploit. All their defenses are fully automated, and they can’t target what they can’t detect. We’ll emerge just outside the interdiction zone at high speed.” To his crew, Hunt ordered, “Archer, take us out of the asteroids, accelerate at full power for two minutes, then cut thrusters, engage cloaking, and fire the jump drive. Lance, arm four nanite missiles. Full spread on my mark.”

  While Riley was configuring the ordnance, Hunt gave instructions to the other ships. The Pericles would follow the Remembrance and open fire on designated orbital defenses. The Phenix would go through the wormhole third, fighters ready for launch. The Mirage would jump last and remain cloaked until further orders. The stealthy frigate would be Hunt’s secret weapon.

  “Nanite ordinance armed,” Riley reported.

  As soon as the Remembrance slipped through the wormhole, Hunt gave the order to fire. The missiles flashed, and shimmering clouds of nanites enveloped the ship.

  Automated defenses could lock and engage a target coming from a wormhole in just fifty milliseconds, but they didn’t opened fire, their sensors confused first by Remembrance’s cloaking, then by the nanobots.

  “Archer, decelerate and take us to low orbit,” Hunt called. “We need to fly low and fast enough to prevent their targeting systems from getting a lock.”

  The blue crescent of Vega-IV grew quickly on the screens.

  “Mitsu, what’s the situation on the ground?” Hunt asked.

  “Difficult to say; lots of interference,” Mitsu said. “I’m detecting hostile craft above the LZ, but it’s impossible to know if they’ve located the Lucky Lady.”

  Riley heard a low growl as the Remembrance brushed the upper layer of the atmosphere. The ships’ speed was higher than escape velocity, so Archer had to fire thrusters to maintain orbit.

  ACB bolts flashed around the ship, but none scored a direct hit. Hunt’s plan seemed to be working. For now.

  “Captain, the Megalodon and its battlegroup jumped in and are moving to intercept,” Mitsu reported. “Three other battlegroups are also inbound.”

  Hunt nodded. “Good. Their planetary and orbital defenses will shut down to reduce the risk of friendly fire. The Meg is too big to venture into low orbit, so we’ll outmaneuver it. Lance, watch out for destroyers; they’ll attempt to intercept us. Kumara, keep an eye on the missile cruisers and stand by to intercept ordnance.”

  Riley focused on her work and tried not to think about the tactical situation. With only four ships, her battlegroup was attacking one of the most heavily defended worlds in the galaxy. Only her unwavering confidence in Hunt’s tactical genius and the exceptional skill of her ship’s crew kept panic away.

  *****

  “Faster, faster!” Varez shouted. “The bugs have found us!”

  Jason, Mortensen, and his marines carried kids to the vehicles while the smugglers unloaded the last crates.

  “For the last time, Jase, the kids are safer on the planet,” Varez shouted. “An army is moving our way. We need to get out of here!”

  Jason eased the young boy he was carrying into the back of the truck and strapped a rebreather on his face. The vehicle had folding seats that were now put to use. Jason checked that the kid’s seatbelts were fastened and slipped a bioplastic cushion between his head and the wall. Without helmets for children at their disposal, they improvised with whatever equipment they had at hand.

  Once all the orphans were on board, Jason dashed to his seat next to Varez, behind the driver. The marines boarded the other vehicle.

  “Multiple hostiles inbound,” Mortensen warned. “Launching recon probes. Activating the turret.”

  Jason examined the map on his HUD. Four gunships were approaching, and a column of armored vehicles moved through the city’s main artery. More hostile units were probably on their way.

  As the vehicle started, he looked with sadness at the gray ghosts retreating into their underground shelter. He wished he could do more for them.

  “One day we’ll return,” he said
in low voice, more for his own psychological comfort than for the benefit of anyone else.

  The vehicles rolled out of the tunnel, and their turrets spewed streams of blaster bolts at the enemy craft. The gunships retaliated, but the vehicle’s armor withstood even plasma autocannon fire.

  A missile launched by one of the marines drew a question mark across the sky. Its course ended with an explosion. A gunship blazed, barreled down, and smashed against a half-collapsed tower.

  An air-to-ground missile whooshed past Jason’s ride and hit a nearby building. Shrapnel pounded the vehicle, but inflicted only superficial damage.

  The ruins offered excellent protection against missiles, as it was almost impossible for the gunships to get a lock on a moving target in this jungle of concrete and twisted nanoalloy. Jason thought he would’ve switched to unguided mode if he were in this situation, but the Taar’kuun pilots didn’t do that. Maybe because their missiles were so sophisticated they didn’t even have a dumb fire mode.

  Another gunship spewed smoke, hit by multiple blaster bolts, and disappeared in the ruins. A blast informed Jason of its fate. The two remaining gunships retreated to a safe distance.

  “Watch out for trilos,” Mortensen said. “Don’t let them get a firing solution.”

  The vehicles raced on a four-lane street when the column of Taar’kuun tanks caught up with them. The so-called trilobites looked indeed like supersized prehistoric arthropods, but they relied on thrusters for locomotion instead of legs. An air cushion created by millions of flagellar rotors kept them airborne about a meter above ground.

  “Turn!” Jason shouted to the driver.

  The trilo at point boomed. Jason’s vehicle jerked to the side, narrowly escaping a direct hit. The spore ordnance only brushed it, yet he sensed the stench of Taar’kuun corrosives.

  The children cried and coughed, even though their rebreathers protected them from toxic fumes.

  What if Varez was right? Maybe I doomed these kids by taking them with us. Have I done this to save them, or for my own selfish reasons? To appease my guilt?

  He chased that thought away. He couldn’t change what he’d done, only do his best to get the children to safety.

  The two vehicles got separated. The one carrying the marines reached the edge of the city and raced in a straight line toward the Lucky Lady. The one transporting Jason meandered through a maze of narrow streets to lose the pursuing trilos.

  “It’s right on our tail!” Jason shouted as the black carapace of the enemy tank smashed through the ruins.

  The driver threw the vehicle into a two-lane street. The trilo was only fifty meters behind. The smuggler manning the turret sprayed it with blaster fire, with no effect. Its carapace could withstand even a direct hit from a 120-mm blaster canon. The 12-mm bolts fired by the turret bounced harmlessly against its smooth surface.

  The trilo aimed at the bolting vehicle. A spore shell clanged against the roof. The kids screamed. Jason glanced over his shoulder and realized the turret was gone. What was left of it turned into greenish goo. Of the gunner, only the boots remained.

  The smuggler sitting next to the driver loaded a dual missile launcher, leaned out the window, and fired at the trilo. Both missiles exploded against its carapace, but left barely a dent.

  The vehicle turned again, just in time to dodge another spore shell.

  When the smuggler finished reloading, Jason grabbed the missile launcher. “Gimme that. You won’t stop a trilo by shooting its frontal carapace, dammit.”

  “Let the officer play with your toy,” Varez told his henchman.

  The smuggler growled, but let go of the missile launcher. Jason opened the window and leaned out. A gust of wind slapped him in the face and almost made him lose balance, but he held tight.

  The trilo dashed from behind a corner. Jason didn’t give it time to turn and squeezed the trigger. The missile thrust forward with a howl and hit the ground right beneath the trilo. The tank missed the turn and smashed against a building wall. That collision caused no damage to the trilo, but Jason had one missile left. He glimpsed the blue flame coming from the trilo’s thruster and aimed at the exhaust.

  “Steady!” he shouted to the driver.

  He launched the second missile. It hit the exhaust right where he wanted. The explosion triggered a chain reaction, destabilizing the plasma in the thruster’s injector.

  A blinding fireball lifted the trilo a dozen meters into the air, flipping it upside down. Its blazing carapace hung there for a second, before crashing down to block the street.

  The smugglers cheered, and Varez gave Jason an energetic tap on the shoulder. “That’s my boy! You roasted them good, those filthy cockroaches!”

  Jason realized he’d been so absorbed by the trilo he hadn’t noticed that the smuggler’s vehicle was moving away from the blockade runner, not toward it.

  “Hey, where are you going?” he snapped at the driver.

  The smuggler who’d handled the missile launcher pointed a blaster at Jason.

  “Sorry, pal.” Varez offered an apologetic smile, his hand still set on Jason’s shoulder. “We’re not returning to the Lucky Lady.”

  11

  No honor among thieves

  Battlegroup Vega was nearing the blockade runner’s landing zone. Hunt ordered O’Neil to launch fighters and destroy three jump inhibitors to carve out an escape window.

  “Captain, the enemy has air superiority,” O’Neil reminded his CO. “We’re detecting over five hundred Arachnids, both in interceptor and fighter-bomber configurations.”

  “We don’t need to shoot them down, just keep them away,” Hunt said. “Use FoF alphas. Your interceptors must provide a continuous anti-fighter barrage.”

  Riley listened to the exchange while configuring ship’s weapons systems. Hunt’s plan was simple, but could be effective. Friend-or-foe alpha-class missiles would score few hits, but they would keep the Arachnids busy. ASF fighters could quickly rearm ordnance in the Phenix’s hangar; the process was fast and fully automated.

  “Four destroyers are locking ACBs on us,” Mitsu reported, highlighting the hostile bioships on the tactical map whose intercept courses brought them planetward.

  She selected the closest one, acting not only as the weapons officer of the Remembrance, but as the tactical officer for the entire battlegroup. “Coordinated fire on designated target, pattern alpha-five. Aim at its main energy distribution node, between third and fourth rib.”

  The Taar’kuun destroyers fired first. Archer initiated evasive maneuvers, which was no small task as the ship was racing at high speed through the upper atmosphere.

  The ACB bolts missed and ended their course in the ocean below. The white columns of vapor they thrust into the air were visible even from orbit.

  “Battlegroup, fire!” Riley called.

  The two ACB turrets of the Remembrance boomed, propelling 400-mm blaster bolts at the target. The Pericles unleashed its six ACBs, and four of its bolts punched through the target’s carapace. The Phenix had two turrets with twin 320-mm guns, but only one had the enemy destroyer in its firing arc. Yet even two ACB bolts could do a lot of damage, especially if they hit critical systems.

  The Phenix’s gunners scored direct hits, ending the hostile ship. Its hull ripped open, the Taar’kuun destroyer disappeared in a glowing cloud of bioplasma.

  While the ships exchanged fire with hostile destroyers, swarms of Arachnids converged toward the battlegroup. Massively outnumbered, ASF fighters threw themselves into battle. As Hunt had ordered, they launched FoF missiles to disrupt enemy formations and avoid dogfighting.

  “Arachnid bombers on our six,” Mitsu said. “They’re launching gammas.”

  “Fighters, clear the rear arc,” Hunt ordered. “Kumara, standby for suppressive fire.”

  As soon as the air was clear of friendly fighters, quick-firing guns went into action, intercepting incoming missiles and lashing at the Arachnids harassing the battlegroup.

&nbs
p; We’re almost there Jason, Riley thought, glancing at the green dot on the planetary map representing the smuggler ship. Hold on for a little longer.

  *****

  Jason glared at the blaster pointed at him, then at Varez. “I knew you were a scumbag, but I didn’t think you’d go that far. What are you up to?”

  “You’ll see,” Varez replied with an enigmatic smile.

  The vehicle moved toward a large ovoid dome that looked like a depot.

  “Whatever your scheme, you won’t get away with this,” Jason said. “Our battlegroup will arrive within minutes.”

  “And what are they gonna do? They won’t fire on us.” Varez glanced at the back of the vehicle, where the orphans were whimpering. “Actually, now I like your idea to bring the kids.”

  He punched a button to close the door separating the cabin from the cargo area.

  “Filthy bastard,” Jason hissed. “Using children as a human shield? I’d never thought you’d sink that low.”

  Two red dots blinked on Jason’s HUD. The Taar’kuun gunships were back. As the vehicle rolled closer to the dome, Jason made out a hidden door in its wall. Slowly it started moving to the side.

  “Faster, faster, damn you,” Varez snapped, as if the opening mechanism could understand him and comply with his command.

  From the corner of his eye, Jason glimpsed the trail of a missile rocketing toward the vehicle’s cabin. He just had time to brace himself before impact.

  Flames erupted into the cabin with a roar. The two smugglers in the front seats were instantly incinerated.

  Disoriented, his ears buzzing from the blast, Jason drew his blaster and tried to regain his bearings. Varez’s seat was empty, and the door on his side was open. Smoke reduced visibility to a few meters, and Jason couldn’t see anything beyond the vehicle’s immediate surroundings.

  Its scanners were still working though, showing the two gunships circling around it. Jason was frantically searching for the missile launcher when a sonic boom thundered in the sky, and four green dots lit up the map.

  “I thought you’d get lonely down there, so I brought you company.”