Warborg - Star Panther

by Olson, Ry

  There was a second of heady silence. “Plus ten seconds.”

  “Initialize IFF.” Chinn commanded.

  To Martin’s artificial eyes it looked like the entire fleet was momentarily engulfed in a haze of electronic hash as all the fleets ship’s on board IFF systems sorted out those around them. It faded to nothing and the suffocating silence returned. Now we wait.

  “Plus twenty seconds.”

  . . .

  “Plus twenty seconds.”

  The droning voice grated on Admiral Chinn’s nerves like finger nails on a chalkboard. Streams of sweat ran from her armpits soaking her uniform. Her emotions were a rubber ball in a paint shaker, she didn’t know whether she was going to pee her pants, have an orgasm or just simply have a heart attack. We invited hell to breakfast, now WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY? GOD DAMMIT! She studied the strained faces around the Command Center.

  “Plus thirty seconds.”

  “We all know that.” She hissed almost inaudibly. Shit, I’m losing it! The thought was edged with panic. She tapped out a quick sequence on a control pad in the arm of her seat, hesitated then tapped out a second sequence. Briton and Martin’s faces split a screen if front of her. “Thoughts?” was her single word.

  Both men paused. “Gathering their forces.” Briton stated with a nod through squinted eyes. “They’re going to hit us hard.”

  “Plus forty seconds.”

  Chinn winced at the voice.

  “You guys can court marshal me later.” Martin gave a tight smile. “But we have to loosen things up before we explode.”

  “Don’t you just hate it when you throw a party and the guests of honor are late.” Martin’s voice was a loose drawl over the command channel.

  Briton’s eyes bulged as he struggled not to laugh. The Admiral’s mouth hung open in surprise, then she started to giggle when the Command Center dissolved into howls of laughter.

  “Incoming . . . holy shit!“ A deck officer bellowed above the laughter.

  Admiral Chinn’s attention snapped around to a holotank showing Koth warcraft pouring into the area. She stabbed a button opening the Fleet Command channel. “The guests have arrived,” her voice faded into a hiss of seething anger she didn’t know she had, “if it’s Koth, make it dead.” She released the button and noticed both faces were gone from the display. Court marshal you Major? I’d kiss you if I could. Her attention swung to the battle at hand.

  . . .

  ^GO!^ was Briton’s single command through the hardlink and Martin’s world disintegrated into the deafening howl of three hundred charging warborgs, it was a primal scream as old as time.

  “Oh my God!” Martin muttered as he absently scratched Prowler’s ears. His mind couldn’t comprehend the sheer numbers of the ships on his displays. Over thirteen hundred Koth ships materialized in the combat zone in less that a second. The Koth may have had numbers on their side, but the Federation had surprise, and the fact that most of the Koth appeared in a hornet’s nest of rampaging warborgs.

  Commander Briton signaled for a hardlink.

  ^Yes, Commander.^ Martin responded automatically.

  ^Major, are you and Prowler set?^ Briton was obviously busy watching his forces, but everyone knew what they had to do, so unless something changed all he could do was let the battle run.

  Martin looked down at Prowler. “Are you ready?” The cat looked up blinked and uttered a low churup. ^Affirmative, we’re all set, Commander, and the missile frigates are in position.^

  ^Very good, Major,^ Briton gave a quick nod. ^Carry on.^ His image blinked out.

  Martin’s attention was split between watching the battle rage and thinking about his mission. The magnitude of the battle made it surrealistic, absolutely mind boggling in size and ferocity. The warborgs were slaughtering the Koth fighters while the manned fighters hammered any Koth ships that dodged outside the main battle area, either destroying them or driving them back into the frenzied warborgs. The only Koth ships escaping the wrath of the warborgs were their missile cruisers and heavy warcraft. Most of these large ships had micro-jumped out or simply smashed their way through the fighters and were engaged in slugfests with their Federation counterparts.

  Watching these huge ships dance and pirouette with micro-jumps of just a few hundred meters while twisting and turning with an agility that belied their size was hypnotic. God, I could never do that! Martin thought. In that second a Federation missile cruiser mis-timed a jump and was instantly transformed into a cauldron of slag by a sleet of Koth missiles. Martin shuddered. A moment later a Koth heavy and a Federation missile cruiser popped into existence side by side a hundred meters apart. It only took a second for the Koth ship to shred the Federation ship with cannon fire. But the human crew didn’t die in vain. The twelve missiles they fired crippled the heavy bad enough that it couldn’t jump. Five seconds later this magnificent piece of technology was a drifting derelict, a sitting duck gutted by three human missile cruisers. Martin tore his eyes away from the display, he’d never witnessed the heavies fighting in real life. He had seen the simulations, but nothing could prepare him for the brutal viciousness of the real thing. It re-enforced in his mind why when the heavies got into it the fighters would run for cover. Jumping a heavy is one thing, but stepping in the ring when they are already going at it . . . I don’t even think so. I’ll stay with my little furball fights, thank you. His respect for Admiral Chinn and her kind rose remarkably.

  “Plus ninety seconds.” The voice droned.

  “As if anyone cares.” Martin muttered. He glanced at Prowler and smiled. Bless you Cyber Pets. It turned out his little buddy was a magnificent piece of Artificial Intelligence programming. So good in fact that after considering the options it was decided that Prowler was deemed the watchdog, or cat as the case may be. His little buddy alone, had the code that would trigger all the Federation ships to jump in an instant. Fleet Command decided that Martin’s ship was going to have the best vantage point and Prowler was smart enough, and fast enough to get the fleet out of the area if the killer ship appeared. All that would be left to engage it would be the Star Panther and three warborg missile frigates.

  Martin contemplated the warborg missile frigates. They were a brand new concept rushed into service by the fleet command. The frigates were warborg medium transports with most of the hull plating stripped away leaving the exposed superstructure. Where the transports once had bays there were now missile launchers. The concept worked out very well, the original transport design had massive engines due to their gross weight, making the much lighter frigates incredibly fast and remarkably agile. The three frigates staying behind with him each carried four Hyper-Vel[6] missile launchers and so far were the only ones of their kind in service.

  Martin frowned as a hundred more Koth warcraft phased into the battle. “Prowler, show me the battle statistics . . . lost ships.” A list of figures rolled down a display next to him. He grimaced as he read the Federation losses, but the Koth losses were staggering. “What in hell are they thinking, they’re getting their butts kicked bad?” His eyebrows came together. “And they just sent in some more ships instead of getting the hell out of Dodge.” He shook his head in disbelief and shrugged at Prowler. Martin got a glazed look for a second. ^Commander!^

  Briton appeared in a hard link. ^Yes Major.^

  ^The killer ship’s on its way.^

  ^What, where? I don’t see it.^

  ^No, it’s not here yet.^ Martin responded.

  ^Then how do you know?^ Briton looked doubtful.

  Martin nodded out toward the raging battle. ^Because they’re stalling. And it’s a damned expensive stall.^

  Briton studied Martin for a second. ^Bloody right this is expensive. They should have bailed long ago when they first saw the trap.^

  . . .

  Admiral Chinn slapped the high priority comm connect button by reflex and did a double take when Briton and Martin’s faces split the display. The tense silence of the command center of a few
minutes ago was replaced with the controlled bedlam of a battle in progress. “Yes.”

  “Admiral, we think the killer ship is on the way.” Briton snapped.

  They had her undivided attention now. “You think? Why?”

  “The Koth are stalling for time.” Briton glanced away for a second. “They’re waiting for something. It’s the only reason that any makes since of them still being here.”

  Chinn puckered her lips. “They are taking a hell of a beating, they’ve lost almost a thousand ships and more are still coming in.” She shook her head. “I don’t get it. What’s here that makes keeping this fight going worth the cost. I refuse to believe they’re willing to throw away so many ships waiting just because they can spare them.” She was answered with two blank stares. “Even if they came in right now and destroyed the entire fleet it would be a one for one exchange in losses, not exactly an overwhelming victory. Losing the ships that are here would reduce, but far from eliminate the Federation presence in this sector.”

  Martin hesitated. “No you’re wrong. They’re after us.”

  “Us?” Briton shot a questioning glace.

  “Us, Commander, the warborgs.”

  Briton looked puzzled for a second then his eyes flew open and he sucked in a breath. “Very good Major.” He shifted his attention to the Chinn. “Admiral, you may only have twenty five percent of the fleets fighting ships here, but you’ve got seventy five percent of the sector’s warborgs. What would happen if you lost THOSE ships?”

  A look of horror passed over Chinn’s face. “We’d lose control of the sector in a week if they pressed their attack.” She straightened up. “Commander, get your people out of here now!”

  “No wait.” Martin interrupted. The two senior officers stared at him. “If you pull out the warborgs I bet all the Koth will be gone in seconds and the killer ship won’t attack.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” Chinn groused.

  “Yes, right now we’re set for it. We may never get another shot like this. We KNOW it’s on the way, no surprises this time.”

  “But the risk Major, and it could be here any second.” Chinn was torn with indecision.

  Briton studied the other two officers, both had valid points. “Martin,” he asked quietly, “how will it attack?”

  Martin’s face went blank for a moment as the memories of the destroyed fighter squadrons and Brian’s suicidal attack flashed before his eyes. He mentally shook himself out of it. “It’s going to come in hard and fast from outside the battle area. They’ll sacrifice all their damaged ships and maybe the fighters, but they’re going to pull any surviving heavies.”

  Admiral Chinn felt goose bumps and her hair stand on end as if an icy finger had run down her spine. My God, he’s been fighting them so long he knows how they think. There was no doubt in her mind whether Martin was right.

  “So when all their heavies jump at once, we jump.” Martin shrugged.

  Briton nodded. “I agree, I say we go as planned but jump the fleet when their ships jump.”

  “Risky gentlemen, risky.” Chinn wiped a sweaty strand of hair from her face. “Ok, Major inform your cat,” she seemed to stumble over that thought, “of the changes.”

  “I already have, Admiral.” Martin gave a toothy grin.

  “Very well, thank you gentlemen. Chinn out.” She hit the disconnect and gave a little confused shake. Cyborgs are just plain weird! She thought while looking at the holotank. “Ship status in area one, stat . . .”

  . . .

  Martin noted that no new Koth had shown up for fifteen seconds. ^On your toes guys, I think we’re about to have company.^ He stated quietly through a voice hardlink to the frigate warborgs. Some muted acknowledgments came back. The tempo of the battle slowed.

  23: Checkmate?

  Prowler’s yowl jarred Martin, in a single blink all the Koth heavies along with most of the fighters vanished and the Federation fleet disappeared a barely perceptible tick later. Less than a second later his virtual heart skipped a beat in the grip of a cold fist when the ship appeared, a nightmare returned. The wave of energy searing everything in its path as the mammoth ship sliced into the battle area. The grim reaper whose scythe destroys all before it. The involuntary vision sent a chill down Martin’s back.

  Martin silently watched the warborg missile frigates start their runs. They attacked from three different directions, timing their micro-jumps so they would appear just long enough to fire a few dozen hypervels before jumping back out between passes of the sweeping energy blade. Three ships phased in, but only two jumped back out in the blink of an eye. One of the frigates mistimed its exit by mere milliseconds, and that minuscule mistake got him killed. Damn, Martin thought as the Koth ship micro-jumped before the hypervels could strike.

  ^That bastard is quick!^ One of the frigate warborgs muttered through the hardlink.

  ^Yeah . . . well let him try this on for size.^ The other frigate warborg grated.

  Before either of the other two warborgs could say anything one of the missile frigates jumped in almost on top of the Koth ship. Too fast for the eye to follow the frigate appeared, fired a hand full of missiles before it was destroyed by defensive ion cannon fire from the Koth. The hypervels slammed into the Koth doing considerable damage, but it was far from being out of action.

  ^That was a crumby trade off.^ The remaining frigate warborg sputtered. ^The son-of-a-bitch didn’t even bother to jump.^ She was silent for a second. ^Any idea why that bastard’s still here, Major?^

  Martin contemplated the situation. ^I think he’s daring you, Lieutenant.^

  ^What!^ The Lieutenant seemed confused. ^Daring me to do what, go in there and get my ass blown away?^

  ^Yes . . . or come up with something else.^ Martin hesitated. ^Keep him busy for a minute and let me think about this. Just don’t get careless Lieutenant.^

  ^I don’t think you have to worry about that.^ She jumped in fired a few futile missiles and jumped back out, forcing the Koth to make a micro-jump. ^Just don’t take to long or I’ll run out of bullets . . . or he’ll get tired of it and leave.^ She gave a tight little laugh.

  ^Gotcha.^ Martin quipped, then studied the situation. Why in the hell is that ship still here? I can’t believe it would hang around for a single lousy warborg. He absently scratched Prowler’s back as he thought. ^I got an idea Lieutenant. I have an eerie feeling he want’s to see what we’re, the fleet I mean, are going to do next. I think he’s daring us to come up with something . . . or some way to attack. It’s like he’s flaunting his invincibility.^

  ^Ok, I’ll buy that.^ She sighed. ^Because as far as I can tell he’s damn right.^

  ^Lieutenant, I don’t think he knows I’m here . . .^

  ^A possibility, but what’s your point, Major?^

  ^I’m carrying a class three missile.^

  The Lieutenant whistled. ^That’d wake his fat ass up. But how are you going to get in close enough to use it? The son-of-a-bitch is dodging my hypervels, and they move a hell of a lot faster than a class three.^

  ^I need to get in close, really close.^

  She didn’t answer for a moment as she feigned in with a quick micro-jump then jumped to the other side of the Koth, fired a spurt of missiles and jumped back out. It almost worked with the Koth jumping when her missiles were just a few meters from impact. ^Damn! . . .Well, if he can’t see you the cannons won’t be an issue but the main weapon will be. There’s no way you can get in, fire your missile and out. A type three just won’t launch that fast. And what’s going to happen if your missile runs into this energy field?^

  ^Theoretically the missile should survive. It’s been dummied down with no guidance, a mechanical impact detonator and an old fashioned time delay self-destruct initiator. All shielded to hell and back. But you’re right, I’ve got to be right on top of him to use it.^ He looked at Prowler. “Any ideas on how we can get in close and survive long enough to get a shot off?” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “If the
re was just some way to shield us from that damned energy field . . .” His mutter faded.

  Prowler looked up at Martin blinked a few times then chirruped. A display lit up on Martin’s control console.

  “What’s this?” Martin studied the new display and frowned. It was a close-up of the frigate destroyed by the ion cannons. “I see it, but what’s your point?” The display parameters shifted to a spectral analysis of the ionized particle content of the area.

  Martin leaned forward and scrutinized the display. The area was littered with unfired hypervel missiles. Every time the energy weapon passed through the missiles would emit a burst of residue creating a dense cloud of ionized particles. But those toward the center of the cloud were reacting very little to the weapon. “Well, I’ll be damned. Good boy, Prowler.”

  ^Lieutenant, do you think you can herd the Koth?^

  ^Herd the Koth?^ She mumbled. She thought about how the Koth ship had reacted to her prodding. ^You know what Major, I think I can to some extent. And just exactly where am I supposed to take him?^

  ^Over by the frigate he blew away with his cannons. It’s got a dense ion particle cloud around it that looks like it should be enough to protect my ship from the energy weapon. I wouldn’t risk it in a normal ship, but this one is pretty heavily shielded.^

  The Lieutenant contemplated Martin’s proposal. ^It’s your show Major. How close?^

  Martin hesitated. ^Five thousand meters max, five hundred would be better.^

  ^Oh, you’re not asking for much,^ the Lieutenant laughed. ^I’ll try, maybe I’ll show him some leg or something, sheesh.^

  ^And Lieutenant, my passive sensors ain’t going to work for squat in there,^ Martin thought for a second, ^and I’m not counting on any comm at all. I’m sure I couldn’t miss something the size of that ship, so be forewarned if anything big shows up within range I’m gonna’ fire.^