Declination

by David Derrico

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER 18

  A short tone blared from the bridge klaxons, and the lights reverted to the familiar, heavier crimson glow of wartime. Small pools of brighter pinkish light radiated from the computer terminals, bathing the entire bridge in a comfortable, sanguine hue.

  A faint smile creased the Commandant’s wide, toothed mouth. He slowly raked his claws across his chair’s metal armrest, and his smile grew at the harsh screech it elicited from the badly-worn alloy.

  “[Easy, Commandant,]” drawled the Supreme Commander, his words spoken in deep, guttural tones. “[Conquest close at hand.]”

  Sa’ruth’lor eased his heavy, scaled hand off the armrest and tapped idly at his reinforced console. He cleared his mind of distractions, and focused on his inner anger, preparing for the battle ahead. He chastised himself for losing focus, and his smile was quickly replaced by a gruesome snarl.

  The navigation officer at the front of the bridge broke the silence with a curt report. “[Hyperspace end in fifteen so’lits.]”

  The Supreme Commander nodded, the armoured ridges on his forehead expanding slightly as they became turgid with blood. A faint scarlet tinge was visible at the edges of his scales. Without even realizing, the Commandant’s own forehead ridges had begun to swell, and he could feel the blood pumping into his face. He supposed that ability was what made the Supreme Commander so effective a leader.

  The nav officer growled. “[Realspace, now!]”

  The viewscreen, switched off during the journey, flashed to life, revealing a trio of human ships ahead and to the left, and a slightly larger arrangement of human vessels clustered haphazardly farther off to the right. Several had Confederation military markings, while others seemed to be nothing more than a ragged amateur defense force. In total, there were only a couple dozen real ships. The reports of the massive damage the rest of the proud Vr’amil’een warriors had been inflicting on these soft humans were true!

  Sa’ruth’lor quickly scanned his tactical console, instinctively focusing on the nearer ships. “[They go to refuel,]” he barked. “[They are vulnerable.]”

  “[Attack!]” bellowed the Commander, slamming his massive hand into his firing console. A barrage of missiles erupted from the bulky Vr’amil’een Fighter Carrier, and sped toward the three enemy ships. The humans were completely unprepared for the attack, and barely managed to raise their shields before the missiles slammed into them. They veered wildly as they turned to face the threat.

  “[All ships, attack!]” The Commander pounded on his firing console with glee. Most of the ships in the armada targeted the nearer trio of ships, eager to score quick kills against the overmatched and under-prepared foes. Predictably, the other vessels followed standard Vr’amil’een military strategy, focusing on the nearest targets first, seeking to overwhelm a weak point in the enemy’s forces and quickly reduce their number with a concentrated attack.

  The three ships managed to return fire, and Sa’ruth’lor remembered to check his console for signs of damage. A spattering of hits splashed across the nose of the ship, and a concentrated attack by the Cruiser knocked out the feeble shields of the Carrier. A few more laser shots impacted against the hardy neutronium armour before the combined armada disabled the tenacious enemy Cruiser.

  A few Vr’amil’een vessels had already broken off, eager to attack the mainstay of the ragtag Confederation defense force, and the Commander ordered the pilot to head for the middle of the fray.

  “[Transmission,]” reported the nav officer.

  The Supreme Commander grumbled, but it would be more than a minute before they were in range anyway. “[Show them,]” he barked.

  Inset into a corner of the screen was an image of a human female—at least Sa’ruth’lor thought it was female, but he always had trouble discerning the genders of the repulsive humans.

  “Vr’amil’een attackers,” came a voice, promptly translated into Vr’amil’een by the computers. “[Cease your attack! We are not your enemy. We are part of a force here to fight the corrupt Confederation and disable their military facilities on this planet. We have—]” The voice was cut off as the Supreme Commander bashed his console in annoyance. “[Attack that ship!]” he bellowed. “[These coward humans shall not live this day!]”

  The viewscreen still showed the enemy fleet, and it was clearly in chaos. The enemy appeared to be trying to split their force to attack from two sides, with a small group of marked Confederation ships trying to form to the left and the larger, more haggard group of human vessels veering off to the right. Perhaps the regular soldiers at least retained enough honor to refuse to fight alongside mere mercenaries.

  “[Destroy all humans,]” ordered the Commander, and the Vr’amil’een armada neatly split in half, each vessel turning to attack the group nearest them. The human ships were outnumbered, a disadvantage made especially clear once they weakened themselves further by dividing their forces.

  Sa’ruth’lor checked the ranges on his console. One enemy ship was much farther away than the others—a deserter? It was still back at the fuel depot the other three ships had been trying to reach, and it was just now disengaging from the fuel pod. Sa’ruth’lor scratched at his armrest again. The ship was not fleeing. It sped toward the armada.

  “[Supreme Commander,]” the Commandant said, “[another enemy vessel comes from fuel pod. It comes to attack from behind.]”

  The Commander grunted, checking his own displays. “[Tiny vessel no match for Vr’amil’een. Send fighters to destroy.]”

  Sa’ruth’lor grunted his assent, keying for the launch of the Cruiser’s two squadrons of snub fighters. One he sent toward the main battle fleet, and another entire squad he sent toward the incoming enemy fighter approaching from the rear—just in case.

  . . . . .

  She would have to give the order. She would have to try to disengage the ship from the fuel pod somehow, or the incoming SPACER ships would surely do it for her. She had no intention of giving them the satisfaction.

  The ships were closing on the depot rapidly, the chronometer ticking down far too slowly as the volatile Duopasqualonium was piped into the ship.

  “Byron,” she said, “adjust the wing lasers to minimum power. We’ll—”

  The Captain was cut off from an alert from her control board, as if chastising her for the thought.

  “Captain!” shouted Byron. “More incoming ships, on-screen.”

  The Captain’s breath caught in her throat. Reinforcements?

  But her heart quickly dropped. Even at this distance, she could see that the angular shapes approaching on the viewscreen were quite clearly Vr’amil’een warships. And she doubted they had come to help.

  Without warning, the Vr’amil’een attack party launched a fusillade of missiles at the trio of SPACER ships approaching the Inferno. They screamed through the void of space, striking the ships and gushing fire from one of the Corvettes’ flanks.

  “I’ll be damned,” breathed Victor. “The lizards are attacking those bastards.”

  Ariyana stared at the viewscreen in wonder. “They must think they’re us! Confederation, I mean.”

  It made sense. The Vr’amil’een would have no idea that the SPACER ships were here to attack the planet, a valuable military target to both sides. In fact, being human ships, and commingled with the other Confederation ships as they were, there was no reasonable way for them to surmise otherwise.

  Stunned by the sudden attack, the trio of SPACER ships changed course to defend themselves against the new threat. Pandemonium ensued as the SPACER and Confederation ships farther away both turned to react to the Vr’amil’een. The nearer ships, however, stood little chance. The Vr’amil’een armada consisted of over twenty ships, and it did not take them long to disable the three surprised SPACER vessels.

  For a split second Anastasia watched helplessly, and then the Vr’amil’een forces slowly, ponderously turned toward the larger group of SPACER and Confederation ships. The Co
nfederation vessels were moving again, and the SPACERs were not attacking them, but both groups seemed to be splitting off from each other.

  “Captain,” Cody joyously reported. “Fueling is complete. External fuel hatch closed.”

  “Byron,” ordered the Captain, “separate us from that damned station.”

  “With pleasure, Captain.” A quick burst from the wing lasers melted the docking clamp, and with a sudden surge, the Inferno was free.

  “All speed to the Vr’amil’een fleet,” she ordered, and Cody complied. The restraint system snaked into place and Anastasia was forced into the memory-gel backing of her captain’s chair as the ship surged to unthinkable speed. A swarm of snub fighters had poured forth from the lead carrier and were vectoring toward the speeding Inferno.

  “Don’t even slow us down, Cody,” said Anastasia. “Byron, spray them with the flechette turrets as we go by. Hit as many as you can.”

  “One squad of fighters?” asked Victor, incredulous. “They thought that would stop us?”

  Anastasia shrugged. “Obviously the Vr’amil’een are more thick-headed than I thought. They haven’t learned their lesson at all.” She looked to the immense Vr’amil’een flagship. “We’re about to show them that size doesn’t matter.”

  Victor chuckled.

  The Inferno shot through the web of fighters, taking a couple of hits that were easily absorbed by the shields. Byron aimed a spattering of return fire at the snubs, but his aim was mostly ineffective at such high speed.

  “Cody, bear down on the group attacking the Confederation warships,” ordered the Captain, watching as the SPACER and Vr’amil’een fleets traded fire. “Let’s make them fight on two fronts. Byron, target the Fighter Carrier in the center. Let’s see if we can’t throw them into disarray.”

  It was only a few moments before the Inferno reached the battle, and Cody slowed to make a pass at the massive Vr’amil’een Carrier. The ship was concentrating on the larger Confederation ships, and barely managed to return fire as Byron raked the engines with a concentrated attack of lasers and plasma burst cannon. A volley of missiles followed the lasers to their targets, and the starboard engine erupted, spewing fire back toward the Inferno. The ship listed to the right, and flames engulfed the port engine as well.

  “Nice shooting, Byron,” said Anastasia. “I think those explosions took out the reactor.”

  The response from the Vr’amil’een was immediate. The remaining ships swung around to face the Inferno, exposing themselves to the Confederation fleet, which advanced and hammered at the enemy craft mercilessly.

  The viewscreen was quickly awash with return fire, and Cody jerked the ship away from the barrage. Nonetheless, the concentrated attack hammered the smaller Inferno, nearly overwhelming the shields and sending the ship into a frenetic spin.

  “Stabilizers!” shouted the Captain, held painfully in place by the restraining harness as the ship somersaulted through space. A spattering of continuing hits reminded her of the vast counterattack directed against the flailing Inferno.

  With a snap, the stabilizers came back on line, righting the ship and bringing the viewscreen back into focus. A sharp pain flared in Anastasia’s right temple, and her knuckles were white where she furiously gripped the armrests. “Byron, return fire at the nearest ship, and Cody, get us moving!” The ship surged to speed again, and the Captain repressed a wave of nausea.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Anastasia noticed that Byron’s movements had become slow and imprecise. The Inferno fired, but the shots clustered beneath the approaching Vr’amil’een Corvette, with only a couple of shots hitting its armoured belly.

  “Byron?”

  “Sorry, Captain,” he replied, all the blood drained from his face. He steadied himself with both hands on his console. “I just—”

  “I’m on it,” interjected Victor, his hands flying over his controls. A second burst from the lasers found its target, ripping a heavy gash in the Corvette’s nose. A well-timed assault from a Confederation Corvette to the rear disabled the vessel.

  A second wave of confusion visibly washed over the Vr’amil’een attack party, as several ships turned back to the charging Confederation ships, while a few remained focused on the Inferno. A couple even started to turn and stopped, leaving a broad area for both sides to target.

  The removal of the central Fighter Carrier proved to be decisive, and the remaining smaller ships took an astonishing amount of damage in a short period of time, hammered by the Confederation defenders on one side and expertly harassed by the Inferno on the other. Cody, displaying the supreme aerobatic skill he had been selected for, managed to avoid the majority of the Vr’amil’een attacks, and Victor’s aim proved true, repeatedly striking at wounded enemy vessels to briskly disable them. Within a few minutes, the Vr’amil’een were suddenly outnumbered, and several ships broke off to rejoin the remainder of their fighting force, still embroiled in battle with the SPACER ships.

  “Stay after them,” ordered the Captain, and the nimble Inferno paced them easily, firing at their rears as the vessels moved away. Anastasia glanced to her tactical console, trying to make sense of the battle between the SPACERs and the rest of the Vr’amil’een armada. The undisciplined SPACER vessels seemed to be taking the worst of it, as the Vr’amil’een battle group acted with more precision, enjoying numerical as well as strategic advantage.

  The unexpected arrival of a half-dozen enemy ships behind the Vr’amil’een lines, however, quickly disrupted their temporary supremacy. Victor, working well in concurrence with Cody’s piloting, vaporized a smaller Vr’amil’een vessel with a fierce attack from behind. The remaining Confederation ships, following close behind the Inferno, pounded the armada with surprising intensity.

  “Take us toward the largest ship you can find,” ordered the Captain, and Cody willingly obliged, lining up the remaining Carrier for Victor to release a full salvo. Several explosions blossomed from the rear of the ship, and a pair of alert Corvettes followed up the attack with one of their own, inflicting heavy damage on the Vr’amil’een ship.

  Cody swung the ship around for another pass, keeping the remaining armada between the Inferno and the SPACER ships. Uncharacteristically, a pair of Vr’amil’een warships broke from the battle, heading for deep space. A few moments later, a disheartened Cruiser took the same route, leaving holes in the armada’s defense. The SPACER fleet seemed confused by the activity, but the Confederation gunboats took advantage of the situation, hammering the exposed flank of the Vr’amil’een forces.

  This time it was the Inferno that followed up the gunboats’ attack, and Victor disabled a pair of ships in rapid succession. Anastasia checked her tactical console to find the remaining Vr’amil’een ships speeding away.

  “All stop,” she ordered, and Cody complied after just a moment’s hesitation. His breathing was heavy and shallow, and Anastasia could see how tightly he gripped the control stick and how eagerly he wanted to chase the fleeing Vr’amil’een.

  “We may have other problems, Cody,” the Captain warned, indicating the SPACER fleet reassembling on the viewscreen. The Confederation ships arrayed themselves behind the Inferno, apparently waiting for either side to make a move.

  “Alright, Ariyana, open a channel to the SPACER fleet.” The Captain breathed deeply, willing her heart to slow.

  Without responding to Ariyana’s hail, the SPACER ships turned away from the planet and headed for open space. As soon as they had reached a safe distance, one by one the ships elongated and launched themselves into hyperspace.

  Anastasia released a long breath, slumping back in her chair as the restraint system disengaged and her tactical console cleared of enemies. She looked to Victor, shaking her head as he returned her gaze. A moment passed, and then several, and it quickly became apparent that no one had the energy to speak.

  . . . . .

  Dex pored over the map for the hundredth time. He had memorized every room, every corner, every way in or out o
f the underground complex. Zip sat across from him, fingering a datapad as he visualized their plan of attack. The dark probe droid hovered unobtrusively in the corner.

  “We’re sure this is the guy?” Zip asked solemnly. “An operation like this …” His voice trailed off. “We had better be sure.”

  Dex snickered. “We’re sure. I’ve confirmed it against ConFedIntel files. Everything traces back to Malloy.”

  Zip nodded. “How a guy like this could ascend to basically control the SPACERs, I don’t know.” He shook his head. “The guy’s a monster.”

  “He’s been with the organization for years. And, aside from his considerable expertise,” Dex paused before continuing, “with explosives, he is very politically savvy. I’m not surprised at all that he was able to assume power once the more moderate leaders in the organization were wiped out at New Berkeley.”

  Zip looked to the droid in the corner. “Are you sure he’s still there?”

  Dex nodded. “The complex has been under constant surveillance since the droid found him,” he confirmed. “No one has left since then.”

  “Then we go,” Zip agreed. “I’ll ready the men.” Zip turned to go, but stopped and faced the Commander. “Sir?”

  Dex looked up from the map. “Yes?”

  “What do we do, sir? When we find Malloy?”

  The Commander did not hesitate before replying. “It was only once Malloy took over that the SPACER attacks have escalated to include mass civilian casualties. The SPACERs have progressed from blockades to attacks, and from surgical strikes on military targets to more wholesale terrorism against civilians. He and his lieutenants must be removed from power, and then hopefully control of the SPACERs will shift to more moderate factions.”

  “Yes, sir,” Zip replied, his eyes fixed squarely on Dex. “But what do we do when we find Malloy?”

  Dex smiled involuntarily at the perceptiveness of the question. “Officially, the rules of engagement require us to disrupt the leadership hierarchy and capture alive any personnel it is reasonably prudent to. All possible care must be taken to prevent the harm of diplomatic officials during such an operation.”