Resolute Victory (The War for Terra)

by James Prosser

  The monastery planet had two moons that orbited on opposite sides of the planet in a steady dance. The second moon was larger and, according to their data, held a small colony of artists. The kill object slammed into the rocky sphere at nearly the speed of light. A bright flash of released energy overloaded the projection screen. For moments, Lee and the bridge crew were staring at a dark wall. When the screen flickered back to life, the moon was gone. In its place was an expanding cloud of debris that burned across space. Chunks of moon the size of battleships were already falling into the atmosphere of the planet. Lee saw the cloud cover of the world peeling back as the atmosphere began to destabilize under the pressure wave.

  “Victory is pulling away!” Farthing shouted, startling Lee back into the moment. “She’s running for open space.”

  “Keep firing!” Lee ordered. “Don’t let them get to M-space.”

  Lee looked at the display from his chair. It had been the Sweet Liberty that had fired the shot saving the planet from the direct impact. The environmental damage would be catastrophic, but the population would likely survive. Banu Rao would pay, however, if Lee had anything to do with it. Jakes was bringing his yacht around to fire again as Resolute turned to attack.

  “Sir!” The octopod’s voice box nearly crackled as the creature shouted. “We have incoming fighters from the Ch’Tauk stations. They are locked on!”

  “Continue pursuit of that ship,” Lee ordered, staying focused on the fleeing battleship. “Don’t let them get away.”

  As Lee watched, Victory nosed down, aiming for open space beyond the smaller moon. Goldstein kept up the pursuit, staying just behind. There was a flash from Victory as something broke loose from her underside. The ship’s shields flared as tiny objects fell away. The release was followed by a small explosion from the port side. Victory listed slightly, but continued to run.

  “What did they drop?” Lee asked. “Are they some sort of mine?”

  “No, Captain,” the co-pilot announced, staring at her scanner. “They’re bodies.”

  “What the hell?” Lee asked in confusion. “Did we hit them that hard? Are they venting atmosphere?”

  “Negative, Captain,” Farthing replied, his crest practically burying itself into his head. “They were released from an airlock. I am reading several humans, two Vadne, and a Tonal.”

  “Wellick?” Lee asked, gripping his armrests again.

  “Negative, sir,” Farthing replied. “Smaller mass. I’d say they just dropped the non-human ministers and crew, as well as Captain Loesser and a few others.”

  Lee’s mind reeled. Banu Rao was not only genocidal, he was a psychopath with a super-weapon who had just killed his own people. The news that Wellick was not among the dead did not comfort him. He had known Loesser for only a year or so, and had not liked him very much, but had seen the glimpses of redemption in the man.

  “Sir,” Artzen called. “Victory is damaged. Several of her plasma lines have blown out from within. She can still go to M-space, but she won’t go far.”

  “Stay on her,” Lee ordered. “Don’t let that—”

  A blast rendered the rest of Lee’s statement unheard. Resolute tilted in space as a combined hit from several Ch’Tauk fighters tipped her from her pursuit. The ship groaned from the sudden change in velocity, but held together.

  “They’re opening a portal, sir,” Goldstein announced. “Victory is getting away.”

  “Can we catch them?” Lee asked, even as another hit threatened to knock him from his chair.

  “They’re gone, sir,” Farthing answered. “We were too far away.”

  More hits on their aft shields caused the ship to slip under his feet. Lee looked at the tactical display. Dozens of fighters were swarming Sweet Liberty even as she ran for space. Lee counted fifty fighters racing in at Resolute. In their current state, they would not be able to go to M-space before their pursuers attacked. It seemed Banu Rao had gotten his first revenge, but Resolute would pay for it.

  19

  The explosion that destroyed the secondary fire control center on Resolute also caused a feedback pulse to race through the ship’s power relay system. Blown out plasma conduits sprayed the energized semi-liquid that powered the ship. The final stop along the course of the feedback pulse was the bridge secondary navigation panel. The molecule-thin plume of plasma bored through the skull of co-pilot Judy Robeson. She let out a howl that reminded Lee of a wounded wolf. Her short blond hair suddenly developed a small red hole. Lee was thankful she probably never felt the bolt that killed her. Her body slumped forward over the console.

  “Josh!” Lee called, hoping the primary pilot was still alive.

  “Got it, Captain,” Goldstein replied, coughing away the thin haze of smoke. “I still have primary control but we’re listing to starboard. I’ve lost stabilizers.”

  “Tactical status?” Lee called to the octopod. The creature’s flesh had gone a deep purple and he was sweating internal fluid onto the deck. Its arms were flashing faster than Lee had ever seen, trying to keep up with the incoming Ch’Tauk.

  “We have still retained control and firing ability on the starboard batteries,” it replied. “However, we are at half strength on the plasma cannons on port. Our shields are holding, but when the enemy combines their efforts, we are weakened and the recharge rate falls off.”

  “So we can still shoot and they can’t kill us yet,” Lee said, pouring over the status in his mind. “How many are still with us?”

  “I am still reading two dozen fighters in attack formation circling our position,” the octopod reported. “Sweet Liberty has reduced its attackers as well, but I cannot keep track of that ship.”

  “I’ve never seen Ch’Tauk fight like this, Captain,” Goldstein said, trying to keep the ship stable. “This is not the way they fight.”

  “I know, Josh,” Lee replied. “They’ve taken lessons from someone. Just keep us moving. Farthing, what’s the status of the planet?”

  “The atmosphere is burning, Captain,” Farthing replied in a horrified monotone. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Millions must be dead. I am reading tidal shockwaves washing over the entire world. I am receiving multiple distress signals, but they are being washed out from the explosion.”

  “Can they signal the home world?” Lee asked, still not turning to face his first officer.

  “Negative, sir,” Farthing replied. “The signals aren’t stable enough. I doubt anyone will ever hear from them. We are getting only the barest signals.”

  “Can we signal the fleet?” Lee asked.

  “Same problem. Our signal relays are dead,” Farthing replied. “If we can get clear, I may be able to drop more.”

  There was another jolt and Lee slipped from his seat to land hard on the floor. Judy’s body slid back and Lee caught the corpse. He gently laid the body out alongside his own chair. She looked peaceful as he closed her eyes. She had always had pale skin, but now she seemed to be made of porcelain. With no time to mourn, Lee pulled himself back into his seat. His projections were gone, lost in the feedback loop, so he was reliant on the big screen and the smaller readouts on the panels around him.

  “Can we make it to open space?” Lee asked. “We’ve got to get to Rao before he takes out the Ch’Tauk home world.”

  “Engines might be able to make a short jump, Captain,” Artzen said, sweating and wiping blood from a cut above his eyes. “Commander Booth won’t stop screaming at me, but I think he can hold it together. We just need a path.”

  Goldstein gripped his panel and tapped a key. The entire ship seemed to lurch as they spun hard over to the port side. The maneuver strained the inertial compensators and once again Lee found himself falling from his seat. The octopod let out an unintelligible whoop as the ship opened up its cannons in a swirling blossom of plasma fire. The tactical screen showed two more Ch’Tauk ships disappear. The attack pattern was far too familiar for Lee’s taste. He had taught it to Alice two years before. The sight of t
he enemy using it to attack Resolute sent a chill down his spine. Another quick tap on the panel and the ship righted itself. Lee waited until his head stopped spinning before climbing back to the chair. Two more enemy fighters were gone.

  “Warn me next time, kid,” Lee ordered Goldstein. “I don’t like hugging the floor.”

  “Install seatbelts, sir,” Goldstein replied. “I only promised to keep you alive, not on your feet.”

  There was a jolt and Lee saw the octopod’s board light up. The shield grid was beginning to collapse. The system had been designed by the elves to absorb power from enemy plasma and redirect it back into the grid. A concerted effort, however, could overload the system and cause the shields to lose power. It was another tactic that Lee had discussed with Alice. For a brief moment, he hoped the Ch’Tauk had some sort of spy in the Alliance. The alternative was too hard to believe.

  “Get us closer to the planet,” Lee ordered. “The debris and shockwave might be able to mask us and give us time to recharge.”

  “If we don’t get hit by one of those boulders on the way in, sir,” Goldstein replied with a grudging sigh. “Changing course, sir. I want to register a complaint, though.”

  “File it with the desk clerk, Josh. It’s all I’ve got.”

  Resolute lurched free of the attacking swarm of insectoid fighters and accelerated towards the burning planet. The once living ecosystem was now a blackened ball. Glimpses of orange ocean through the debris cloud could be seen. Lee couldn’t remember what color they had been before. Lee could hear pings from the hull as the shields tried to deflect particles racing away from the dead moon.

  “Sir, I have an incoming transmission,” Farthing said above the noise. “It’s from one of the Ch’Tauk fighters.”

  “The Ch’Tauk?” Lee asked, turning to face the first officer. “Can you get a translation?”

  “I don’t need to, sir,” the felinoid replied. “It’s in Earth Standard.”

  Lee stared at the man for a moment. The idea that the Ch’Tauk had learned Earth Standard after controlling the planet for six years was not surprising. That they would send a transmission in the middle of battle after their world was destroyed was confusing. Farthing’s crest suddenly rose to its full height. If a felinoid could be said to blush, the man was doing it now. The expression took Lee by surprise.

  “Can we put it on the speaker?” Lee asked, standing and walking to the rail, carefully avoiding the body on the floor. “I’ll be damned if I signal our surrender.”

  “Aye, sir, but…” Farthing seemed unable to speak. His hands moved mechanically across his panel to tap a key.

  There was a flare of static and a whine as the computer processed the foreign transmission. A voice trailed from the overhead speaker. It took Lee a few seconds to make out the sound. As the voice resolved into speech, Lee suddenly understood why Farthing had reacted that way. He had not heard her voice for a year, but he recognized it. She sounded weak, but it was definitely Alice.

  “…solute. I am in need of assistance. Can you open the starboard bay? I repeat, this is Lieutenant Bennet calling from the Ch’Tauk fighter approaching at two-zero-five. Can you open the starboard docking bay? Please respond…”

  Despite the pinging sound and the constant fire form the trailing enemy fighters, the bridge seemed to go silent. Lee stared at his first officer. The voice of his fiancé on the speaker was the last thing he thought could occur. He could not stop listening as Alice repeated the transmission. For the first time in his career as a captain, Lee had no idea what to do. He turned away from Farthing to look down. The face of Judy Robeson snapped him back to reality. He had already lost so many on this mission. He would not lose Alice again.

  “Josh,” Lee said, stepping around to his chair again. “Turn us broadside to the fighters and keep us between them and Alice.”

  “Captain,” Farthing said. “We don’t know that is really—”

  “I know,” Lee said, pinning the felinoid with a sharp stare. “Signal that ship and tell her we’ll cover her.”

  “Sir…”

  “Do it!” Lee ordered. “If I have to go down there and lift the doors myself, that ship is coming aboard. Give her cover.”

  The octopod was already working to balance the shield cover so the ship could enter. Lee stepped down to the empty co-pilot’s station and tried to revive the console. A single screen flickered to life. He tapped keys and tracked the incoming fighter. Alice’s course had been evasive of the debris field, but steadily away from one of the orbital stations. A quick check showed the station had fallen from its orbit and was burning up in the upper atmosphere of the planet. However she had done it, she had escaped just in time.

  “Sir,” the octopod announced. “The fighters are swarming again. I do not think I can hold the shields open for more than a second or two.”

  “It’ll be enough!” Lee shouted, gripping the console. “Farthing let her know.”

  “Aye, sir,” Farthing replied.

  More enemy fighters swarmed in to attack. The fire crews were shooting at everything now. Debris from the moon was swirling around, colliding with the hull as well as the incoming enemy. Lee watched as two fighters blasted past the wall of plasma towards Alice’s ship. The octopod was directing the cannons, but the angle was all wrong. Visions of the battle a year ago flashed in Lee’s mind. Alice had moved in to attack and had been hit by stray fire. She’d spiraled out of his line of sight. He had thought she was dead. Now she was so close and he couldn’t get to her in time. A wave of helpless frustration threatened to overtake him.

  The two Ch’Tauk fighters erupted in red-orange plasma fire. Incoming fire from a parallel direction had stopped them cold. Alice’s ship flew through the wreckage, bouncing metal shards from her armored hull. Lee looked away from her fighter to see a sleek, black yacht pull up beside. Sweet Liberty had shaken its own pursuers and swung around to cover Alice.

  “I got her, Lee!” Jakes’ voice boomed from the overhead speaker. We ain’t losin’ her this time.”

  Lee Pearce had not shed a tear since the night Alice died — he had shared a drink on the flight deck of Resolute with Captain Ortiz and talked about her. Hot tears flowed down his face now as he watched the enemy fighter streak past the battleship’s shields, abruptly stopping and landing on the cleared platform. Lee wanted to race down to see her. He wanted to abandon everything and run to the woman he loved. The vision of Judy’s lifeless face reminded him of his first duty. He turned to Goldstein next to him.

  “Get us the hell out of here, Josh!” Lee ordered. “I don’t care how we do it, but get us away.”

  Josh didn’t even look. He tapped keys hard and the ship shot away from the attacking enemy. Sweet Liberty flew just behind, firing at any incoming target while Resolute laid down a hail of plasma. The ship swerved around boulders the size of cities as she raced for open skies. Lee heard Jakes’ voice whooping over the comm and didn’t care. He turned to look at his first officer.

  “She’s on board and safe, Captain,” the felinoid said. “She’s safe.”

  Lee knew that was a lie. She would not be safe until he had his arms around her. She would not be safe until they were far away from the battle and the death. The ship began to hum and he looked back to the screen. A familiar blue-brown swirl had formed. Resolute tore through the barrier at full speed. A brief look showed the vortex closing behind them, cutting a pursuing fighter in half. The ship was shuddering and the smoke was nearly blinding, but they were away. Lee turned to Farthing.

  “It’s yours,” he said, nearly leaping from the bridge. “Take her someplace safe.”

  Alice was waiting.

  20

  Earth – Wyoming

  “Dammit!”

  Another component smashed against the metal wall of the technician’s station. Shards of glassine circuitry rebounded and showered Emma with tiny particles. She brushed the fragments from her short hair and shook her head at Henry.

  “Y
ou old fool,” she said to the man. “You almost hit me with that one.”

  Henry Moore looked to the woman with a scowl. He had not shaved in the two days since arriving at the installation and was beginning to smell odd. Emma had been trying to drag him to bed, but he persisted in trying to rebuild the transmitter. Ben Hastings was leaned back in the rolling chair next to Henry with his head tilted back, snoring. The man had an uncanny ability to sleep through Henry’s tirades.

  “The damn thing just won’t go back together,” Henry said, slamming his hand on the cluttered work table. “They should have given us two soup cans and a really long rope. It would have been easier.”

  Emma brought over the mug of chocolate she had brought from the installation’s kitchen. It had been a surprise the place had a large store of the sweet drink in cold storage. In the past, some politician had probably hoped to use the place as some kind of hideaway, and stocked it with the most luscious of items. It had turned out to be a welcome change from the hydroponic mushrooms and soy protein back home.

  “You would have found a way to break that too,” Emma replied. “Take a break, Henry. You’re exhausted.”

  “Yeah,” Henry said, taking up the mug and sipping. “I am tired. I’m tired of working on stuff I don’t understand. I’m tired of hiding below ground and not seeing the sun. I’m tired of the war, babe.”

  “I know, Henry,” Emma said, reaching out and cradling his face. “I know you are. You act sometimes like you are the only one fighting the enemy though. Others can step in for a little while so you can take care of yourself.”