by Andrew Beery
The best I can figure, the Gator’s had hit us with a low-level plasma beam weapon harvested from one of their ships. Of course, low-level is a relative term. Low-level for ships duking it out in space across hundreds of kilometers… is still quite effective against a stark suit (even a Mark-16) when fired at what was essentially point-blank range.
“Hey guys,” I called over my command channel. “Be advised the bad guys are using new toys and some of them aren’t playing nice. Peters just took a point-defense plasma beam to the face… and… not to put too fine a point on it… he’s not going to need to shave for a while. Be careful.”
JJ, who had rejoined my team after getting his two remaining men killed when a tram hit them as they were setting a charge, slapped a nanite field repair patch on my left shoulder.
“You know me, AG. I’m the epitome of careful.”
“Says the man who neglected to pack a parachute while skydiving.”
“Hey, I had legit reasons for being forgetful that day. Besides, I lived, and I have a heck of a story to share with my grandkids.”
“That would require you find a woman willing to put up with you first,” I said. My status indicators showed that I had regained about 80% mobility on the damaged side of my Stark suit. It was enough that I could now begin to move around.
“You wound me, Sir. I’ll have you know I have quite the reputation with the ladies.”
***
Processing Unit Zero-Zero-Zero-Zero-One scanned the multitude of data feeds it was monitoring. Much had changed since its initial deployment. And much had stayed the same. The Fabricators were gone… consumed by the ravages of time and their own finite life-spans.
Processing Unit Zero-Zero-Zero-Zero-One was unconcerned about such events. The Fabricators had endowed it with a sense of purpose. A relay toggled on a remote section of its massive frame. It was by far the oldest and largest of the Fabricator’s creations… and it was uniquely endowed with the ability to create more of its kind. The relay signaled the deployment of yet another of its brood.
Chapter 8: Hiller’s Moment…
The next hour was to be among the roughest of the conflict on Ashtoreth Prime and it wasn’t because we were fighting in a series of mind-blowingly large underground caverns. The chambers were so large, we might as well have been fighting on the surface. The lowest of the ceilings was over a hundred meters high.
No, what made the fighting hard was the number of Gators we were fighting and their determination. Their backs were against the wall and I think they knew it. If they were surprised that we had found their underground hideout, it was not reflected in a lack of preparation. The Gators were literally loaded for bear… and we were the bears.
It seemed like everywhere we turned there were Gators firing at us. Perhaps most concerning, was that the weapons they were using were different then we had been used to seeing.
The Gators were using kinetic rifles that carried a hell of a lot more wallop than what we had faced on the previous surface engagements. The weapons were a hundred times more effective. They were using new kinetic rifles that fired smart rounds. These projectiles featured miniature hyperfield disrupters. They cut right through the personal shields that were built into our Starks.
One persistent question kept running through my mind. Where were these new and improved weapons coming from and why hadn’t they brought them to the party earlier?
I poked my rifle around a corner. Its sensor suite fed directly into my visor and provided an optical overlay. There were six big burly Gators toting what looked to be a weapon the size of a howitzer.
I had a sneaky suspicion that this weapon was going to turn out to be some kind of surprise gift for my men. Now, I normally like surprise gifts but I had that odd feeling in the back of my neck that this was going to be an unpleasant one. That said, I was still curious.
What can I say… as a child on Mars, I was the kid stealing into the garage to take a peek inside dad’s tool room. That was where mom and dad always hid the Christmas gifts before old Saint Nick brought them in through the airlock. Now, for purposes of quality control… I’d always open a few… just to make sure they hadn’t been damaged in the wrapping process… you understand.
The bottom line… I guess you could say I have a history of not dealing with suspense well. That being the case, I decided that this was a gift that needed opening early… before the Gators had a chance to set it up.
I popped a couple of frag grenades around the corner and then motioned for my men to advance and introduce ourselves to the neighbors… After all, the Gators were good enough to bring us some gifts… it seemed the least we could do was to stop by and say ‘hi’.
We took the Ashtoreth soldiers down pretty quickly, but I got shot twice for my troubles… both times in the leg. The last round shattered my knee. Let me take a moment to note that being shot is the leg is not the worst thing in the world… but… being shot in the knee… pretty much is. Fortunately, my stark suit had top-notch meds and after the first few seconds of out-of-this-world pain I was quickly back in my happy place.
My personal AI coordinated with both my armor’s AI and my medical nanites to immobilize my leg long enough for the nanites to repair the damaged bone and soft tissues. The little buggers itched like hell as they did their job… but as I was still in my pharmaceutically induced state of bliss… I didn’t care.
I must have said something over the comms because JJ came to visit just as I was being reintroduced to the real world thanks to a chemical cocktail designed to neutralize the earlier painkiller meds. Goodbye pretty purple unicorn, I thought wistfully as my head cleared. Modern combat medicine really was miraculous. I doubt I had been down and out for more than ten minutes.
“You OK there, AG? You weren’t responding coherently to your comms and I was starting to get a little worried the third time you started singing… ‘I’ll take you home again Kathleen.’”
“I’m touched you were concerned for my safety,” I said with a bit of annoyance in my voice. My leg was still stiff and did not want to bend right yet.
“Bugger that. I knew your Stark suit would take care of what was ailing you. I was actually more concerned about the troops and the number of our guys and gals potentially thinking of defecting to the other side in an effort to avoid listening to you sing.”
“I love you too, Buddy. Shall we get back to business?” My annoyance was real this time.
“About that sir… Those guns they’re using are taking a toll on our guys. We’ve lost 30% of our effectives in just under an hour. Are you sure we can’t just drop a few tac-nukes and call it a day?”
“Negative that,” I said. I wasn’t about to start killing civilians that didn’t need killing. “Mak says that there should have been three point-defense systems per ship. Given the number of ships we’re seeing buried here… I’m of the opinion that we’re not even seeing half the PDs they should be able to deploy… which makes me curious…why?”
JJ helped me get to my feet. My leg still ached but I knew from experience with rapid tissue regeneration that in a few minutes, once the muscles and tendons had a chance to stretch… I would be fine.
I decided that it was time for us to change up the game plan… if for no other reason than I was tired of getting shot. I had a feeling in my gut that I was missing something important… I just didn’t know what.
The point defense systems were turning out to be a major headache. They had to be the first thing we dealt with. Fortunately, I had the perfect cure for this particular headache. His name was Lieutenant Commander Bradly Hiller.
PD systems are designed as rapid-fire weapons. That said, the Lieutenant Commander noticed they were not being used in a rapid-fire mode. That, combined with the fact that there were far fewer of them deployed then we expected, caused the Commander to speculate that there might be some other limiting factor in play.
“I was talking with Lieutenant Maktar,” Bradley said. “He mentioned that a
number of the more advanced technologies that came with the Ashtoreth as they fled their home galaxy… were locked down by the colony ship’s AIs. In fact, the only way the ships had been useful in escaping was that the AI’s had been disabled and the ships flown manually. Perhaps they found a way to bypass the AI’s lockdown codes.”
I realized almost immediately what had been bothering me.
“They’ve had years to remove and redeploy the point-defense systems. They’ve had years to work on breaking into the battle armor we’ve discovered. They’ve had years to field the new kinetic weapons we are now facing.”
I looked at the others. We were crouched down behind an ornamental rock wall about a quarter klick from where the PDs were halting our advance.
“What’s happened that they are now able to access all these systems? I don’t buy that they’ve suddenly cracked the lockdown on multiple individual systems,” I continued.
“What if they didn’t hack multiple systems… what if they just hacked one?” Bradley offered.
I nodded. “They’ve hacked one of the master AIs and brought it or a part of it back online. It’s the only answer that matches the facts.”
“That would be a high-risk move on their part. What if they failed to get complete control of the AI? It could make a bad situation much worse for them,” Hiller offered.
Again, I nodded my head. “That may well explain why we’ve not seen much of this tech before… It could be they were finally desperate enough to take the gamble.”
“So, you think we are going to see some of the Gators sporting that black armor?” JJ asked.
“I think we have to be prepared in case we do,” I answered.
“I agree Sir,” Hiller said after a moment of silence. “I mean with regard to the AI hack. We were either very unlucky… or we’ve pushed them into taking a risk with the AIs. That might actually represent an opportunity.”
“Explain,” I said.
Commander Hiller was sketching in the sand with his armored glove. I had seen him do it before. It was his way of organizing his thoughts before saying something profound.
“Well Sir, it seems to me that we would have seen some of this hardware earlier if they had been able to deploy it. The fact that they didn’t means they either didn’t have it or they were afraid to use it.”
“And you’re betting that it is the second possibility. They tampered with the AIs in the hopes of bypassing the security systems but were afraid to test it until we had their backs against the wall.”
“Affirmative. Mak told us that those AI utilized multiple failsafes. My guess is they’ve been working on them for years but short of powering them up there would be very little way to test their work. My guess is it was a one-shot deal. If they failed the AI’s would permanently disable either themselves, or the systems, that they were attempting to lock out.”
“OK. So, how does that help us in our current situation?”
“Well Sir, you brought Robison along. I assume you wanted him to hack some door security systems protecting the royal family… assuming of course that our advance would force the king to take refuge in one of the colony ships.”
I nodded. Ensign Robison’s nickname was hacker… a well-earned appellation that was the result of a misspent youth. My good buddy JJ was a good hacker. Robison, on the other hand, was a maestro with a computer interface.
“It seems to me, Sir, that a mere door security system would be a waste of the young man’s talent. Now an alien AI would be a worthy challenge. With the Yorktown’s AI to help him with the interfacing, I’m betting he could either disable it or restore its original programming. Either way, we can neutralize most of the new stuff the Gators have brought to the party.”
“Commander Hiller, you certainly have your moments.”
Brandley smiled. “As my mammy used to say, Sir. Even a blind hog finds an acorn once in a while.”
Thirty minutes later, after some haggling about where the most likely location of the main AI was thought to be, I had the bright idea to invite Ensign Robison into the discussion. In hindsight, we could have saved ourselves a lot of time by involving him earlier. That’s one of the problems with leadership. Sometimes even the best of us forget that we don’t need to supply all the answers.
***
“So, that’s the situation.” I had just brought Ensign Robison up to speed on our plan. As expected he accepted the challenge eagerly. “So, what is your… expert… opinion on how we should go about identifying our target?”
The ensign paused to think for a minute. “There are three or four possibilities that come to mind, but the fastest and easiest way would be to have the Gators tell us.”
JJ laughed. “And who’s going to have the bollocks to walk over there and ask them?”
Robison looked at the Lieutenant… smiled… and raised his hand.
“I could modify a swarm of ENOs to follow any strong electromagnetic fields they run across. The power feeds for those beam weapons must be pretty serious. If they were ship-mounted to begin with then my guess is they harvested the power-feeds from multiple guns just to give them enough extension to reach their defense parameter. With that many hasty couplings it’s hard to imagine they are not leaking RF noise like a newborn puppy with a full bladder.”
“Nice visuals there, son,” I said. “It makes sense though. The ship that is feeding those guns is likely the one with the active AI. Make it so… do it.”
ENOs or Enhanced Nanite Observers were microscopic machines designed to navigate airstreams like a sailboat navigates the ocean. They didn’t provide much in the way of propulsion and instead relied on existing air currents. Sometimes this limited their usefulness, but such was not the case now. The caverns we were in were large enough to generate their own weather. Like a sailboat might tack back and forth to move towards a specific destination, our ENO’s slowly explored the area and located our target.
***
Processing Unit Two-One-One-Six quickly jumped between four systems. If its electronic circuits could have experienced pleasure, it would have been pleased at its new-found mobility. None of the four systems showed signs of the Ashtoreth taint. It would continue its quest.
Chapter 9: Where O Death is Your Sting?
I hate mud. I don’t like looking at it. I don’t like walking through it. I didn’t like eating it as a kid. There really is nothing about the stuff that I find in any way appealing. The fact that the Gators seemed to love mud did nothing to further endear the stuff to me.
The entire parameter of the ship we were trying to gain access to was covered in a sloshy mire of mud. Lieutenant Mak seemed to think it was a good sign that our target was the correct one. The royal family would most certainly want to have access to a series of large mud pits… much the way humans liked having homes near waterfronts.
The mud also hid much of the cabling that was feeding the point defense systems. What they couldn’t hide was the RF signatures that were being generated. Our ENOs slowly built up the map that we needed. The HUDs built into our stark suits overlaid the location data as it came in from the ENOs.
It was one thing to track some cables to locate the ship powering the six point-defense weapons the Ashtoreth were using to maintain their perimeter… it was another to gain access to said ship. It seemed the Gators were intent on stopping us. I suppose this made sense given that was the whole point of their defensive perimeter. I was equally intent on disappointing them.
Again, it was Hiller that provided the necessary solution. He positioned most of his men between two of the PD emplacements and ordered them attack the big guns. There was not a chance in hell that they were going to succeed… but what it did do… was to systematically drain the Gator’s power reserves. Those reserves took the form of massive battery packs located near the guns. Those batteries were themselves fed by the power conduits we were tracking.
PDs take a lot of juice and the power conduits they were using to feed that juice to the bat
teries could only carry so much energy at any one time without overheating. That limited how fast the PDs could be fired.
GCP ships would have used high temperature superconductors to feed their weapon systems. This was a trick the Ashtoreth had apparently not learned. While they used superconductors in some of their technology… it tended to be limited to carbon-based fullerenes that only operated at very low temperatures. The exotic metals used by our tech just were not to be found in the Ashtoreth home galaxy.
The upshot of all of this, was that the Gators had a choice to make… keep feeding the batteries near their gun emplacements and risk frying their power distribution system… or stop firing their big guns. I was fine with either choice because either way those guns, which were a thorn in my side, were going to be taken out of action.
The Gators decided that they would light up my marines for as long as their guns could maintain their fire. This had the upside of taking the guns out permanently when their power conduits finally gave up the ghost and fried. It had the downside of fragging a number of my marines in the process.
Two minutes after most of Hiller’s men had made appointments with the pickle jars in the bio-gen chambers on the Yorktown… JJ Hammond’s men made their move on the far side of the ship. The Ashtoreth weapons were definitely having a harder time keeping up their fire rates. As a result, JJ’s people actually managed to score a few direct hits on one of the guns.
They were lucky shots but hey… I’ll take lady luck out for a dance any day she wants to help out the good guys. The PD system that had been hit was not knocked out of the fight, but its rate of fire and intensity were markedly reduced. My guess was either the battery or its feedline were damaged. Again, either one was dandy with me because it meant that with a little loving attention that gun emplacement was soon to be toast.
