StarFight 1: Battlestar

by T. Jackson King

  “Your scent I will obey,” One finally said, his stance atop his perch stiff and formal and not showing the exhaustion Seven now felt.

  Seven lifted up his head and angled his antennae toward the hovering Matron. “Source of our lives, I will obey you. My flying nest will work with Hunter One and with our other nests to defeat these Soft Skins!”

  The Matron lowered her flight slowly, finally touching down atop her boulder. “Defeating these new Soft Skins is just one task we face. Before we kill them all, we must learn the answers to my questions. Set your Servants to work learning from the behavior of these Soft Skins. The way any life behaves is the silent scent that tells other life what that life intends. Learn from these Soft Skins! Then consult with me and our other Matrons before making any attack!”

  One beat his wings quickly but stayed on his roost. “Your scents carry wisdom. I will lead our six-group out to the edge of this sky light’s magnetic field, then we will cast all eyes on the flight track the Soft Skins take to another sky light. We will follow them. At the new sky light there will be time for another attack flight!”

  Seven breathed deep. He still lived. And the failure of his Challenge was made a non-event, thanks to the interference of the Matron. He would return in an air bubble to his nest and resume his leadership of that nest. He would cooperate with One in their pursuit of the Soft Skins. But somehow, someway, in the future he would replace Hunter One!

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Hunter One hid his shock at the Matron’s interference behind the scent of cooperation and consent. This Matron was the highly fertile female he had chosen over two other Matrons with a higher status in the cohort. Now, she betrayed him! Or had she saved him? The fight with Seven had gone on longer than he had expected. The youth’s strength in flight, his nimbleness and his persistence had been greater than One had expected. He’d taken his high perch with the expectation of diving down against the shocked Challenger and driving his stinger into the head of Seven. Instead, the youth had risen to meet him. In open air there are too many flight paths one can take. Just as in cold dark space there are angles of attack and retreat more numerous than on the ground.

  Tiredness had filled him in the last two reversals of position in the air. If he had lost his grip on the abdomen of Seven, then the Challenger’s tail stinger would have had a clear shot at his soft abdomen. The interference of the Matron had prevented his possible death. Which was something he could not tolerate. He had too many plans for using the successful colony planting to improve his caste rank among all Hunters, back on Nest. The loss of a six-group of flying nests to these miserable Soft Skins had dented the scent of success he had worked hard to build. Now, he had to defeat these Soft Skins, or lose his status back on Nest.

  He beat his wings strongly, flew off his perch and followed his Servants, Fighter Leaders and Worker Leaders out into the tube that linked with his Flight Chamber. As he flew, he created an order of tasks to assign to his Servants. First among them was the repair of the deep hole in the nest’s head that had caused the shut-down of vital energies from the front energy node. Second would come the replacement of hull plates so he could once again extend out the gravity plates that made the Pull Down device work. The issue of whether such work could be done in the cold dark space of this sky light was a dark dream that left his inner gut disturbed.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  An hour after the meeting with Branstead, Jacob sat in the admiral’s high seat in the center of the Bridge, with Daisy in the XO seat to his left and O’Connor in the captain’s seat to his right. Lori and Carlos sat in their rear observer seats. Ahead, all function posts were fully manned. The front wallscreen showed a mix of images. In the center was the true space image of the six wasp ships, as shown in the ship’s electro-optical scope. To the right was a flat view of the situational holo which showed the positions of the battle group ships, wasp ships and the asteroid belt and comet belt of Kepler 22. To the left were a group of images that displayed repair robots hauling hull plates to the deep holes on the nose and belly of the Lepanto. Another group of robots were replacing adaptive optics lenses on the right outrigger pod and at three other side hull spots where lightning bolts had blasted the lenses into vapor. In front of his seat were four holos that repeated the wallscreen imagery. The central wallscreen image of the wasp ships now changed.

  “Tactical, the wasp ship formation is changing. What is your analysis of their aim?” he called to O’Hara. Or Rosemary, as she had reminded him upon his return to the Bridge.

  The Irish woman, still dressed in her vacsuit with helmet thrown back, like everyone on the Bridge and elsewhere on the ship, looked up, then back to him. Her eyebrows lifted. “Acting captain, it looks as if the five ships are moving out and away from the large wasp ship. Maybe they had a meeting.” She looked back to her holo of the true space image, checked a sensor readout on her armrest, then fixed on him. “My sensors say the wasp ships are expanding their hexapod formation. Ahhh. They’ve stopped. Each ship is 2,143 kilometers distant from any other ship. Distance from one side of their hexapod to the other side is 12,430 kilometers.” A beep drew her attention to her armrest sensor panel. “They’re pulling back! They were at 20,000 klicks out from us on a parallel vector track. Now, they have increased their distance from us to 70, 90, now 97,120 klicks!”

  Jacob felt relief that the enemy was pulling away, and frustration that they continued to follow his battle group. Were they following to confirm his departure? Were they aiming to attack right on the edge of the magnetosphere? Or perhaps were they planning to follow to Kepler 10?

  “Acting captain!” called Oliver from Weapons. “My scope and sensor imagery says there are wasps on the hull of the giant wasp ship! And also on the hulls of two other wasp ships.” The Brazilian paused, looked down at his armrest, then up at one of the holos in front of his post. “Uh, yup. Spectroscope reports intense ultraviolet and infrared spots where those wasps are located. Looks like they are doing hull repairs.”

  “Interesting. Tactical, Weapons, thank you for those reports.” Jacob looked down at Daisy’s tight curls of blue-black hair. His XO and future dance partner was studying the same images that the two function posts had highlighted. “XO, what is your assessment of the enemy actions?”

  Her shoulders stiffened. “The wasp enemy appears to be doing hull repairs, fixing holes and punch throughs by our proton and CO2 lasers. Their use of live people in vacsuits explains their pullback. They want to have time to pull people inside if we make a sudden attack on them. They would have ten or eleven minutes even if we changed our vector track and hit ten psol.”

  Jacob sat back in his seat, put elbows on the upper parts of each armrest, and folded hands over his gut. “XO, should we do the same? Here on the Lepanto and on the Chesapeake, Hampton Roads, Philippines Sea and the two frigates with hull damage?”

  “Sir, yes sir, we should do the same.”

  He looked up. “Melody, open a neutrino video comlink with every ship in the battle group. Transmit all imagery on the front wallscreen.”

  “Link established,” the AI said, her tone now sounding almost sleepy. Weird.

  “Chesapeake, Hampton Roads, Philippines Sea, Ofira and Marianas, please observe the changed position of the enemy wasp ships. Note there are live wasps active on the outer hulls of three wasp ships. Clearly they are repairing hull damage.” He paused, knowing his words and image were also going to every deck on his ship, thanks to the constant All Ship vidcom repeat of every Bridge action that he had ordered at the beginning of the conflict. “I suggest each acting captain consider if their own repairs could be accelerated by using Spacers in EVA, rather than relying only upon repair robots. Here on the Lepanto we will be sending out vacsuited Spacers to directly guide the repair robots. And to hit spots too tight for the bots. Respond.”

  The black face of Swanson appeared in Jacob’s comlink holo. The stocky woman wore a clear vacsuit over her NWU woodland camos. “Acting captain and l
eader of the battle group, do we maintain Alert Combat Ready status?”

  “We do,” Jacob said quickly.

  She blinked dark brown eyes. “Exactly so. Yes, we will send out vacsuited Spacers to work on our hull damage. The Chesapeake’s nose railgun and topside plasma battery were knocked out as we shielded the frigates. We are still combat operational. But yes, I would like to repair our hull damage. Sending people out onto the hull during Alcubierre transit is not a gamble I’m willing to take.”

  Jacob understood her point. The academy instructors had emphasized how early experiments using chimps in vacsuits had resulted in mentally disturbed chimps upon their return to the interior of the transiting starship. Putting humans on the hull during Alcubierre transit was strongly discouraged.

  “Agreed. Transit EVA should not be attempted. Proceed with your repairs,” he said.

  “Proceeding with EVA repairs. Chesapeake out.”

  Her image disappeared. Replacing it was the youthful face of Joy Jefferson. The woman’s straw blond hair was tied in a ponytail. She eyed Jacob. “Heard the chat with Chesapeake. Yes, we need to repair one of our two tail laser nodes. Got knocked out in the last exchange. We are still combat operational. Our single repair robot is overloaded. Sending out Spacers is ideal. With your permission, proceeding to deploy Spacers.”

  Jacob liked the no-nonsense manner of the young woman, who was just five years out from her own academy graduation. Her climb up the ranks to be a lieutenant on a destroyer had impressed Admiral Johanson. Or so said the admiral’s personnel files. Those files said she was single, the only child of a sea-going Navy couple and had reported two fellow ensigns for sexual harassment when they had groped her while both served on another starship. The ensigns had been assigned shore duty and Jefferson’s superior had promoted her off his ship and onto the Philippines Sea. In the three years since she had received only Superior and Outstanding ratings from the now dead XO of her ship.

  “Acting Captain Jefferson, you have my permission to conduct live EVA repairs on the Philippines Sea,” Jacob said. “Stay alert to the enemy formation. Any sign the wasp ships are moving closer and I will order all EVA personnel inside, here on the Lepanto and on all battle group ships.”

  “Understood,” she said, looking aside to something on her Bridge. She looked back. “Acting captain, proceeding with EVA repairs. Philippines Sea out.”

  Her image was replaced by the bulldog face of Wilcox. The man fixed blue eyes on Jacob. “Group leader, yes, we need to repair the left side proton laser and our belly plasma battery. The Hampton Roads is still combat operational, but we will hit harder with these areas fixed up.”

  “Acting Captain Wilcox, you heard my earlier comments. Same goes for you and your ship and people. Keep alert. Proceed with repairs.”

  The mostly bald man nodded. “Understood. Hampton Roads out.”

  He had similar conversations with Lieutenant JG Metz on the Marianas and Chief Warrant Officer Mansour on the Ofira. Both were happy to put Spacers out on their hulls to do work their single robots were slow to do. Jacob looked ahead, saw no change in the wasp ship formation, then looked up.

  “Melody, connect me with Supplies Deck chief Cheryl Zhang.”

  “Connecting over All Ship vidcom.”

  The face of the Chinese-American woman who ran their Supplies Deck appeared in a holo to Jacob’s left. Like everyone else she wore NWU woodland camos under her vacsuit. She seemed to be in what might be the control center for her deck, given the multiple wallscreens, blinking lights and hurried movements of three assistants who crossed behind her.

  “Acting Captain Renselaer, good to hear from you,” she said, her voice low but musical. “How can I assist you?”

  Jacob smiled the best he knew how to smile. “Chief Warrant Officer Zhang, it is good to finally see you in person. My regrets for not visiting earlier. We’ve been busy up here.”

  Zhang’s pale lips lifted to one side in a half grin. “So I and all my Spacers have noticed. Your transmittal of everything over the All Ship vidcom has been informative. And positive in the effects on my personnel.”

  His heart beat eased at the sign of one more deck chief who seemed friendly to his command status. “Thank you. The wasp enemy has retreated further from the battle group and has put out their people on the hulls of three damaged ships. I’ve given five of our ships permission to do the same, to help their repair robots. Or do work the robot is not doing on the smaller ships.” He paused. “I’ve been watching the work of the five repair robots you sent out to weld hull plates over the big holes in our nose and belly. Your teleoperators are doing a fine job. However, I think repairs would go faster if we put out Spacers on the hull. Do you agree?”

  Zhang’s smooth-skinned face grew a big smile. “Would it! Yes! We’ve got to replace one of our hull sensor arrays and that is not a job for a robot. Plus, Spacers can work faster inside the deep holes in the hull than robots. I’ll send out twenty of my people to the nose and belly holes, and two out to replace the sensor array. Uh, sir.”

  Jacob smiled back. “Excellent. Proceed with Spacers doing repairs in addition to your teleoperated robots. While we have 28 hours before we reach the magnetosphere, I would like the hull breaches to be sealed up well before we arrive there. Can that happen?”

  She frowned. A few lines on her face betrayed her late 40s age. She looked up. “Yes, it can happen. While we cannot pour two meters of molten hull metal into the breaches, we can put in new hull plates, new interior structural beams and make sure the inner hull surface is water-tight. Give me fifteen hours and we should be vacuum tight on the exterior.”

  “Very good,” Jacob said. He knew nothing about metal welding in microgravity, but he did know it was dangerous work thanks to some of Newton’s laws. Still, there were plenty of Spacers trained in deck repairs in Supplies Deck, and the personnel file on Zhang said she was a wizard at getting stuff done on time, or earlier. He had been amazed to see the admiral use the word ‘wizard’ in the man’s notations in her personnel file. But he was willing to believe it. “Chief Zhang, you have your fifteen hours. If you need support from another deck, call me. If you and your people need meals brought down to you, contact Spacer Kenji Watanabe in the Mess Hall. He’s a friend of mine. He’ll take good care of you.”

  Zhang’s black eyebrows lifted, then her lips grew into a pleased smile. “Glad to hear that. My assistants are watching the wasp ship formation. If it changes, I will call in my people. Until that happens, I’m sending 22 of them outside. Anything else?”

  “Nope,” Jacob said. “Proceed with the repairs as you see fit.”

  The woman nodded. “Proceeding. Supplies Deck out.”

  Her holo image disappeared. Leaving him at the center of the Bridge. Daisy was busy checking deck status and Weapons Deck needs. O’Connor was tablet talking quietly with two of his Marines, who were also pilots of two of their four Darts. Ahead, the function post people were all busy. Behind him, Lori and Carlos watched and were ready to assist him with matters of Science and Navigation. Well, he could not put it off any longer.

  “Communications, send a neutrino contact signal out to Lieutenant Commander Mehta of the Salamis.”

  Andrew Osashi’s shoulder stiffened. Then the older man leaned forward, tapped his control pillar and then looked back. His dark brown eyes fixed on Jacob. “Acting captain, signal sent. Incoming response going up on the wallscreen. Or do you prefer it just to your comlink holo?”

  Jacob gave the man a relaxed look. Clearly the warrant officer felt tense at the contact with the rebel ship captain. “Put him up on the wallscreen, in addition to my holo. Let this go out over the All Ship.”

  “As you order,” Osashi said softly.

  The dark-skinned, black-haired, Hindu-looking figure of Chatur Mehta now filled Jacob’s comlink holo. And also the front wallscreen in an inset icon that left other imagery intact. Beside Mehta sat the Asian woman, a Vietnamese-American he recalled from scanning M
ehta’s personnel file. She was his XO and the person who had warned him of the Star Navy rule that required any Star Navy ship to offer aid to another ship under attack. Her expression was neutral. His was irritated.

  “Mehta here. What do you want Renselaer?”

  Insolence became the man. Briefly Jacob wondered if he was related to Aarhant Bannerjee, another man insulted by the rise of an ensign to authority over him.

  “Acting captain and Lieutenant Commander Mehta, thank you for your return to the battle group and the fire support from the Salamis,” he said calmly, reaching for the even temper his father had insisted he have even as the old man listed Jacob’s faults. “Your ship’s assistance helped us drive off the wasp enemy.”

  Mehta’s tense face relaxed a bit as he heard Jacob’s compliment. “Thank you, acting captain of the Lepanto. The Salamis is proceeding outward with the rest of the battle group. My ship stands ready to further defend against any new wasp attack.”

  Jacob chalked up one to his father’s fanatical lessons. “I see that. Please continue your ship’s vector track. As you have heard from my contacts with other ship captains, I am aiming to take the battle group out to the magnetosphere, then transit to Kepler 10. Where I will make a report to the captain of the Star Navy base.” He paused, licked his lips and told himself the man could not hurt him. Defy him, yes. Treat Jacob as if he were a school geek, yes. But the man could not defy the reality of their current situation. “Will you accompany the battle group to Kepler 10?”

  “Yes!” Mehta said loudly. His XO winced as if the sound hurt her ears. “That was where I was headed when the wasps attacked your ship and the battle group. In conformance with Star Navy regulations, I reversed course and rendered combat aid. What do you want now?”