The ship turned, almost too slowly for Tag. His palms grew clammier as more stars and other distant planets appeared across the viewport. He watched the holoscreen at his station light with all the contacts they were about to face.
“Give me a more precise status report, Alpha,” Tag said.
“Projections put us at approximately sixty contacts,” Alpha said. “Most grav signatures indicate fighters or cutters. I’m seeing a large grav signal belonging to an SRE ship caught in the middle of the others. Maybe another five to six dozen SRE signatures, although they too are mostly coming up as fighters.”
“Label the map for us.”
The live battle came into view through the viewport before the labels even popped up on the holoscreen. The blue glow of impellers marked the sleek black ships Tag knew must be the Drone-Mechs. Even from this distance, with the zoomed-in views provided by the holoscreen, he could see the menacing orange viewports of the fighters and larger warships.
A few Drone-Mech destroyers and battlecruisers circled in the distance. One massive Drone-Mech ship slowly circled the perimeter of the battle. It dwarfed the other ships at nearly three times the length of the battlecruisers. Hundreds of cannons and guns bristled from its hull, and its side lit up as relentless blasts of energy and kinetic rounds spewed from its thumping broadsides.
“A dreadnought,” Coren said in reverence.
SRE fighters swerved and veered through the maelstrom of Drone-Mech fighters. But they were no match for the technologically superior craft. Tag watched in horror as fighter after fighter exploded in a sea of shrapnel and energy fire.
“Gods, no,” Sofia muttered.
In the midst of the raging battle lay one giant SRE ship. It listed as if its pitch impellers had malfunctioned, and blue plasma vented from gaping holes in its sides. Debris clouds, full of metal fragments and what Tag feared must be bodies, sprayed into space as its cannons and torpedo bays launched round after round in a desperate attempt to fend off its attacker. It looked not like the impressive piece of war machinery Tag once thought it had been but rather as if it was a bleeding animal lashing out in the desperate throes of death.
They had found the Montenegro.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Time seemed to slow. Silent explosions ripped through the fighters and smaller ships surrounding the Montenegro. Volleys of energy and kinetic rounds, exchanged by Drone-Mechs and SRE vessels alike, left brilliant streaks through space, ripping into the sidewalls and hulls of ships with brutality on a scale Tag had never seen in person before. Several Drone-Mech signals blinked off the holoscreen as they perished under the fire of SRE fighters desperate to defend their capital ship. But the onslaught was too much. Tag could see the humans were already losing the battle, fighting against insurmountable odds and an overwhelming force.
Tag knew the meager firepower of the Argo wasn’t going to turn the ill-fated direction of this unfair battle. The SRE fleet should know by now that death was inevitable, so why hadn’t they already jumped away?
“Hail the Montenegro,” Tag said. “See how we can assist.”
Alpha nodded, and her silver fingers tapped at her terminal. “I’m unable to reach them.”
Then it struck him. The SRE fleets’ comms were down, and they hadn’t jumped. Of course! He’d been through this before.
“Goddammit. Their AI systems are infected. Make sure our new firewalls are up. Do not let the Drone-Mech AI viruses infiltrate our systems.” He glanced at the holoscreen again. Fighters of both sides swerved around each other in a morbid dance, trading volleys of glaring pulsefire and kinetic rounds. Six of the Montenegro’s escort destroyers lashed out at the swarming Drone-Mech fighters with everything they had in a frantic effort to defend themselves, and Tag imagined the confusion, fear, and frustration no doubt permeating their bridges like a debilitating disease. Plasma spewed from one destroyer even as it launched a fusillade of torpedoes, energy rounds, and Gauss slugs into the abyss of space and buzzing flock of Drone-Mech fighters. Two destroyers already floated silent and useless, with enormous gashes in their sidewalls and chunks of hull and cannons suspended around them in a silent memorial of a futile battle. They lay forgotten and defeated as the single Drone-Mech dreadnought lurked beyond them like a waiting shark. Its broadside cannons sent devastating volleys into the overwhelmed SRE fleet.
“Alpha, how long until the T-drive is spooled and ready for a hyperspace jump?” Tag asked.
“Ten minutes.”
Sofia almost leapt from her seat. “You’re not just going to—”
“No, we’re not going to run from this. But we need to be realistic.” Tag leaned in, examining his holoscreen. The zoomed-in images of the slaughter were too much. He had brought his limping ship back from the dead. He’d flirted with death, been closer to it more times than he had ever been before. And now the reward for his efforts was the depressing tableau unraveling before him now: utter destruction of the Montenegro, his closest link to humanity.
“They cannot possibly prevail,” Coren said.
“Who?” Tag asked, his voice shaking. He couldn’t tell whether the Mechanic had condemned the Drone-Mechs or if he had stated a fact that Tag could already see too clearly—the SRE forces were already standing with one leg in their grave.
Coren’s hands twitched over the weapons terminal. “The Drone-Mechs. We cannot let them do this to your people, too.”
The surprise must have been evident in Tag’s expression even through his EVA suit’s helmet.
“Just because I think there may be war criminals within your species and government does not mean I condone genocide,” Coren said in a tone bordering on offended.
“Good to know,” Tag said. Yet a lingering doubt resurfaced in Tag’s mind. Sure, he had shown the nanites likely caused the strange behavior of the Drone-Mechs, but how had the Drone-Mechs located the Montenegro? He stared at Coren, uncertain, wondering if his initial suspicions had been right all along. But then he recalled the three boarders he’d killed before he crash-landed on Eta-Five. He considered asking Alpha to check the ship’s logs and see if any secured data had been accessed by the Drone-Mechs. That might explain how the Drone-Mechs had discovered the Montenegro’s existence.
But a wailing alarm interrupted his thoughts.
“Captain, three fighters breaking off and heading our way!” Alpha said.
Tag found it difficult to swallow the lump forming in his throat. He inhaled deeply. Running was not an option; they were stuck here until the T-drive spooled up, and the enemy had already spotted them. He had thought the escape from Eta-Five had tested his scrappy crew, but now he feared they were about to run the real gauntlet. A fleeting sense of dread grasped at his insides, turning them to mush, but he fought past his internal turmoil. His crew needed him on point now.
“Coren, point-defense ready,” Tag said, maintaining a collected, confident air. “Arm the Gauss and energy cannons.”
Unflinchingly, the Mechanic prepped the weapons. The cannons hummed to life, and Tag half expected Coren to send rounds careening at the SRE forces. He tried to shake the paranoid thoughts, praying Coren would prove true to his earlier promises.
Confidence, Tag. Confidence, he reminded himself.
“Fighters have launched missiles, Captain,” Alpha said in her monotone voice.
Tag glanced at Sofia. “Evasive maneuvers. Keep our distance from the melee for now.” He needed time to think, to figure out a plan. There must be a way out of this mess—a way to save their hide and the Montenegro’s.
She gave a single nod and sent the Argo rocketing forward. The whole ship twisted as inertial dampeners and grav generators struggled to retain relative gravity. The heavy weight of thrust forced Tag into his seat. Bright flashes of raking fire cut across the prow, while stars and barrel-rolling fighters spun across the bridge’s viewport as if it was an oversized kaleidoscope. Sofia directed the ship away from the incoming rounds, and the energy shields safely absorbed th
e few rounds that did connect.
“Return fire,” Tag said.
Without hesitation, Coren activated the targeting on the point-defense systems. Blazing orange rounds marked the cannons’ spray as Gauss slugs fired in concerted waves. Rounds peppered one of the fighters. Its energy shields provided no protection against the kinetic rounds, and dozens of new holes appeared in its opalescent hull. Gas escaped from the freshly shorn wounds and froze instantly in space. A brief second passed before the fighter exploded in a plume of fire, almost immediately quenched by vacuum, and shards of polyglass and fissured alloy sped through the stygian expanse of space.
One down, Tag thought. His confidence swelled slightly after the successful maneuver, but the fighters screaming near the Argo kept his ego in check. “Bring us to bear on the second.”
With all adjustment impellers straining, the Argo twisted and spun on the Drone-Mech fighter. Coren wasted no time lighting it up with kinetic fire even as the Argo’s energy shields coursed and flashed, absorbing incoming rounds. The fighter came away unscathed, and Coren shook his head, muttering to himself in disappointment.
“How are we holding up?” Tag asked.
“Shields still stable,” Alpha said. “But I will need to divert more power to withstand the Drone-Mechs’ fire.”
“Which will increase the spool time on the T-drive.”
“That is correct.”
“Do it.”
Sofia continued jockeying the Argo around the two fighters. Despite her best efforts, they still whipped and buzzed relentlessly near the ship like flies on a horse. Her piloting skills could only go so far in the comparatively less maneuverable Argo. If they were going to swat those two insects out of the air, it was up to Coren.
The Mechanic continued to lay down streams of persistent fire. But the two fighters, after witnessing the demise of their compatriot, seemed to be coming in more cautiously, bombarding the sidewalls of the Argo and zipping away to reengage.
“I’m having a hard time locking these two down,” Coren said.
Orange point-defense rounds and powerful kinetic slugs sprayed into space. The rounds faded into the distance, swallowed by blackness, still not connecting with the nimble fighters. While the Argo’s crew found it difficult to land a hit on their enemies, their opponents had no such trouble. Another successful strafing round crackled against the Argo’s shields, and a pained groaning reverberated through the bulkheads.
“I can’t shake them!” Sofia yelled, frustration in her voice.
Tag’s mind raced for answers. There was no way he’d let two pathetic fighters take them down. Not when they were so close to the Montenegro. They’d be no help to the capital ship if they were blown to pieces before they even reached the main battle. But even after these fighters were done in, what in the three hells would they do next when faced with a goddamned dreadnought and its supporting fleet?
He steeled himself and took a deep breath. For a moment, he wished he was back in the medical bay, dealing with patients. But even then, when casualties flowed in, when dealing with the most hopeless of injuries, he didn’t give in to the overwhelming pressure threatening to crush him. He triaged. He dealt with one thing at a time.
Restore cardiac function. Stop the bleeding. Suture the wound. Rinse and repeat.
That’s what he needed to do now. The two fighters drew near enough he could see the orange glow of their viewports again.
There had to be a way to stop them. Survive this engagement. Then figure out the next step. Take this battle one step at a time.
“I’m afraid I have more bad news,” Alpha said. “We have six more contacts incoming. More fighters.”
“No worries,” Tag said. “Just six more problems to solve.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
The two fighters came in hot with cannons pumping steady waves of pulsefire that splashed against the Argo’s energy shield. Bright flashes of green crackled where the rounds hit, and each incoming round dissipated in miniature lightning strikes, obscuring the bridge’s viewport.
The brilliant display of exploding energy gave Tag an idea.
“Coren, I want a full charge on the energy cannon,” Tag said.
“But even at full charge, it will be useless against their shields. Mechanic technology is—”
“Trust me, I know how to make it useful.”
Coren shot him a dubious look but set the energy cannon to charge anyway.
“Sofia, keep us on a straight path toward the dreadnought. When these two come around again, bring us to bear ninety degrees to port.”
“You got it,” she said.
“Alpha, keep an eye on those shields. We’re going to be taking a lot of fire.”
“Yes, Captain.” Alpha hunched over her terminal. Concentration seemed to be etched into her metallic features.
The two fighters loomed in the bridge viewport again as they flew on parallel paths. Their formation made it seem as if they were two fiery eyes belonging to an enormous beast barreling through space. But as Tag had proved with the ice god, even the most fearsome of monsters feared death.
“Get a firing solution on the first fighter,” Tag said.
“Yes, Captain,” Coren said.
Tag’s holoscreen lit up, confirming Coren had locked in the fighter. The two small vessels drew closer and closer. Coren looked at Tag anxiously, and Tag steeled himself, waiting for the right moment. A spray of energy rounds flickered and sputtered against their energy shields, and the fighters started to separate.
“Port, now!” Tag said. “Fire energy cannon!”
The Argo turned, keeping one of the fighters in her line of sight. At the same time, the energy cannon boomed off a single powerful pulse that connected with the fighter. As Coren had warned, the energy shield on the fighter absorbed the blow. But as a consequence of dissipating all that energy, green flashes of light shimmered and burst around the no-longer-invisible shield in a dazzling display.
“Point-defense and Gauss, now!”
Orange rounds coursed through open space toward the fighter while its shield continued to crackle and spark, still working to dissipate the enormous overload caused by the fully charged energy round. With the crackling shield blocking the pilot’s field of view, the Drone-Mech couldn't see the kinetic slugs flying toward him. Rounds chewed into the fighter’s sidewalls, and holes vented instantly freezing gas for a moment before the fighter exploded in a spreading globe of fire and plasma.
“Yes!” Tag pumped his fist in the air. “See how we have to do this, Coren?”
“I saw, Captain,” the Mechanic said with little joy in his voice.
Tag restrained himself from celebrating further. He reminded himself the Mechanic was engaged in a losing war. Even if he lived and saved the Montenegro, it meant he bore responsibility for the deaths of thousands of his enslaved former comrades. Tag didn’t envy the awful predicament the Mechanic had found himself in.
“The remaining fighter is joining the other six,” Alpha said. “They will be within firing range in ten seconds. My calculations suggest we will not be able to withstand direct fire from all seven at once.”
“Sofia, let’s stay moving on this one.” Tag said, gripping his armrests tightly. “Coren, splash energy rounds across their shields for now. Blind ’em, then knock ’em out. Put that on repeat.”
“Can do,” Coren said. He fiddled at his terminal more robotically than Alpha, undoubtedly turning off his emotions and focusing on the targets approaching their vector.
Sofia pulled back on the controls, and the Argo curved past the brunt of the incoming fire. Enough rounds crashed into the Argo to make the shields light up like Eta-Five’s stormy skies. The ship groaned and shook all the while, and Tag braced himself, holding tight to his crash couch. But still he stared intently at the holoscreen.
Coren, too, didn’t let the incoming fire distract him. The energy cannon shuddered as it fired pulse rounds at a rapid clip. The rounds burst against the
shields of a couple of fighters, and he used the pilots’ momentary blindness to blast them with the kinetic weapons. Another two fighters tore apart, their innards exposed to unforgiving vacuum. The field of destruction was close enough for Tag to see one of the pilots’ bodies hurtle into space. He winced when he saw Coren spot the dead pilot—another reminder to the poor Mechanic of who his enemy was. To his credit, Coren didn’t let up. As Sofia brought the Argo to bear on two more of the fleeing fighters, he whaled on them with the pounding cannons. One arced away unscathed, but rounds lanced into the grav impellers of the second. A few long seconds passed as the fighter soaked in the fire, then it vaporized in a brilliant wave of light and chunks of smelted alloy.
Sofia yanked at her controls, and the Argo veered from the pieces of the broken fighter. Several fragments of the vessel still collided with the side of the ship.
“Damage report?” Tag asked.
“Nothing major to report, Captain,” Alpha responded.
The fighters resumed their relentless assault while they veered and swerved from the path of Coren’s fire. Sofia did her best to avoid the onslaught, but still rounds connected with their shields and shook the ship, rattling them like they were an ancient Earthside roller coaster.
“Shields are at fifty percent!” Alpha said. For the first time, alarm seemed to have seeped into her mechanical voice. “They’re continuing to drop!”
Sofia twisted and turned, forcing the Argo to act in an ill-suited role as a fighter, but there was only so much evading she could do, being outnumbered by the smaller, more agile craft. And as Tag watched the shields drain on his holoscreen, another three fighters broke off from the main battle to intercept them.
Before these reinforcements could arrive, Coren managed to bring down another two of the fighters already attacking them. The deaths of those fighters provided sufficient reprieve to allow the Argo’s shields to shimmer and start to stabilize. Enough power had already been diverted to them that they began to creep back up to forty, then forty-five percent strength.
Eternal Frontier (The Eternal Frontier Book 1) Page 24
