IRON SPEAR

by Anthony Thackston

  “We should probably start thinking of getting out of here.” Durham fired a shot.

  “We wait for the Captain,” Lindsay said before a bullet hit the top edge of the barrel in front of her.

  “You sure you wanna wait?”

  Lindsay fired back, pinning the Catter that shot at her behind a forklift.

  “Over there!” Durham pointed at Hannah and Syracuse as they ran into the dock.

  * * *

  Syracuse Hill threw his fist into the face of a Catter who’d made the mistake of getting in his way. The larger alien went down in that one punch. There was no reason to bother with a gun. Syracuse just had a mean right hook.

  Hannah stopped and drew her Ice Gun. She took one shot at a Catter raising its own weapon. Her shot only wounded but it was effective enough to get the Catter to drop its gun while Syracuse permanently dropped the alien with a shot of his own.

  “Get to the boat, kiddo!” the XO ordered Hannah.

  “We’ll cover you!” Lindsay yelled before she and Durham laid down a barrage of bullet and laser fire at the Catters.

  * * *

  Irons burst through the door to the dock with Natalia close behind him. The dock was a sight of controlled chaos as workers either fled or fought against the invading force. Those who fled were quickly dispatched while those who fought only spared themselves a few more moments from the superior skills of the Ka’traxis Brood fighters. The moon workers—employees of Wartech Industries— were not fighters. At best they were security guards with a minimum of tactical training. It was clear to Irons that this was going to be a losing battle if they had to rely on the Wartech staff.

  Irons’s eye darted around the massive dock for any kind of advantage. He finally rested his gaze on one of the smaller Wartech ships. “Can you power these things on remotely?”

  “Yes, but the control booth is above us.”

  “Of course it is.” He looked to his left at the steel staircase leading above them. “At least the stairs are right there.”

  “What about the weapons store?” Natalia pointed to the other side of the dock.

  Catter fighters rushed out of the door with Wartech weapons slung around their shoulders.

  “No longer an option. Besides, I got a better idea. You stay here.”

  A burst of gunfire punched through the door behind them, narrowly missing Irons. One of the bullets shot straight through Natalia’s bun, making her hair fall around her face, softening her stern demeanor.

  “I’m coming with you,” she said.

  “No, go to my boat.”

  “You need my command pass.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s an iris scan and hand print.” She held her hand up.

  “Right.” Irons looked out at his ship to see Durham and Lindsay covering for Syracuse and Hannah. “Brooks!”

  * * *

  Lindsay fired off a shot, hitting a Catter before it could pounce on Hannah. She looked out toward Irons. “Captain! Come on!”

  Irons shook his head and pointed up, letting her know his destination.

  Lindsay nodded and turned her gun to the stairs, watching for any attacks.

  Syracuse and Hannah finally stepped onto the gangplank as Durham put a bullet in a Catter trying to climb up the side section.

  “Pull up a chair, Commander,” Durham said.

  “Where’s the Captain?” Syracuse asked.

  “Sir!” Lindsay pointed to Irons and Natalia racing for the stair entrance.

  “What’s he thinking? What’s up there?”

  “No intel on that, sir.” Lindsay fired off a burst.

  “Commander,” Durham said. “I’m gonna be out of ammo soon. There’s a six barreled rifle at the top of the gangplank.”

  Syracuse ran to the ship’s opening and found the large gun. “Well, this is interesting.” He took a quick look at the gun. Six barrels, just like Durham said. It also had four thin, clear, rectangular boxes about six inches long on each side of the barrel. Left, right, top and bottom. He ran back down the gangplank.

  “Let’s find out what this thing does.” Syracuse pulled the trigger and bolts of electricity shot out of the clear boxes to the barrels. The blue lighting arced from barrel to barrel until each one was full of electricity. Then a wide beam of lighting burst from the gun. It hit one Catter then jumped to another, then another, killing each one before finally dissipating.

  Lindsay and Durham both looked at the strange weapon before looking at Syracuse’s shocked face.

  “Trade you,” Durham said.

  Lindsay fired a shot from her Ice Gun, killing a Catter trying to sneak up on Durham.

  Durham looked back at the would be attacker as it fell off the gangplank. “I knew you loved me.” He turned to Lindsay and smiled before reseting his aim on the attackers.

  * * *

  One Catter fell to the floor right next to Irons. Natalia looked back to see Lindsay shifting her gun from their general direction to other approaching invaders as Irons jerked her around to the staircase entrance.

  Irons took the steps by twos.

  “My shoe,” Natalia said.

  Irons stopped to see her sliding her foot out of her stuck heel. Professional or not, high heels were not the best choice for running up a steel grated staircase. She quickly took the other heel off and dropped it.

  Suddenly a strange smell and the sound of crackling appeared from higher up on the stairs.

  “Captain!” Natalia screamed.

  Irons spun to see a Catter exiting a purple colored portal. The feline alien hissed at him and readied its weapon.

  “Reloaded,” a feminine but robotic voice said from Irons’s holster.

  Both the Catter and Irons looked down at the holstered Ice Gun.

  When Captain James Irons looked back up to lock eyes with the Catter blocking his way, it was with gun in hand and trigger pulled, firing from the hip. This enemy was close enough that hitting it required no aiming.

  The large alien lumbered forward but before it could fall down the stairs, possibly taking them with it, Irons rushed up to catch it and shoved it over the steel railing.

  As the Catter fell, he fired off more shots at others on the dock floor. “Move, Rayweather!”

  The two of them continued their ascent up the stairs and finally reached the door. Irons swung it open while Natalia ducked inside.

  The door shut behind them and Irons locked it for good measure. Bullets rattled against the glass but none punctured it.

  “Bulletproof. Smart move,” he said.

  Natalia hurried to the control console and placed her hand on a frosted panel. A clear screen rose from the top of the console and she put her eye to it.

  “Hit that button when I tell you to,” she told him, pointing to a red button on the console in front of Irons.

  His eye was fixed on the purple lights popping up all throughout the dock. This was going to be a massacre if they couldn’t stop it.

  “Now, Captain!”

  Irons snapped back to the moment and he slammed his hand down on the button.

  Nothing happened.

  Sixteen

  The Wind-Up

  Irons hit the button a second time only to get the same result. Nothing. The ships stayed in place.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know.” Natalia looked down at the console, trying to figure out the problem.

  Irons watched the number of Catter’s appearing through the portals grow. If there were more military personnel, they might have a chance but with only his crew and what was left of the Wartech moon staff, things were not looking good.

  “What’s this?” Irons pointed at a blinking [L] on the console.

  “The Anchor locks.” She growled in the back of her throat. “Not again!”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “They’ve been malfunctioning since the new ships came in. Sometimes they stick.”

  “This is a bad time for them t
o stick.” Irons gritted his teeth and slammed the button again.

  The sound of the alarm had become a drone in his ears as the gunfire drowned it out. He looked out the window at his crew, the Wartech staff, ships and the increasing number of Catters. The lighting bolts from Syracuse’s gun was taking out fair numbers of the enemy, some as quickly as they appeared, while Durham and Lindsay held their own. It was a short lived moment of pride, seeing them keep up the fight despite the losing odds. He was ready to rush back out on the staircase and assist them. Ready to fall, fighting.

  “The turrets!” Natalia said. “Do you need the ships to fly?”

  “I need them to fight!” Irons commanded.

  Natalia input a few commands into the console and watched the ships.

  The projectors lit up, placing mirrored copies of each ship just above the originals. The turrets came to life as the drones identified the threats and blasted away.

  Real bullets and hard light bullets tore through the Catters that were already on the deck and those that were still coming in through portals. Durham, Lindsay and Syracuse all dropped to the gangplank to avoid the bullet storm that filled the dock. The targeting systems on the Wartech ships were extremely accurate. Each gun fired at the attacking enemies.

  More portals started opening up but this time nothing came out of them. The Catters who could still walk, ran into them, retreating from the quickly losing battle. The firepower of the Wartech ships doubled by the hard light projections was too strong to stand up to. And their targeting systems were too quick to outrun. Retreat was the only option for the Catters.

  Irons glanced at his crew as they slowly rose from the gangplank. Each one looked alive and unharmed but winded.

  The turrets of the Wartech ships pivoted, searching for an enemy target until Natalia input the command for them to stand down.

  “Leave the copies up just in case,” Irons told her.

  “Are they really gone?”

  “Looks that way.”

  * * *

  Irons stepped over the dead Catters and moon staff. The whole dock was a massacre.

  “Well, I don’t know if I’d call this a good day, Boss,” Durham said, surveying the carnage.

  “Everyone accounted for?” Irons asked.

  “Hannah’s back on the bridge running the numbers,” Syracuse said.

  “How could anyone concentrate with all that noise?” Durham kicked one of the dead Catters.

  “It’s called focus, Durham,” Irons said. “Try having a little.”

  “Sir, yes, sir,” Durham said in his slack way.

  “That was close, Captain.” Lindsay kept her guard up for any more attacks.

  “It ain’t likely to get much easier.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “There enough engineers left to help make this boat faster?” Syracuse asked.

  “There’s no telling who and how many are in other parts of the base,” Irons started. “For all we know Wartech hollowed this whole thing out and has more people running around in it.”

  “Should we check, sir?” Lindsay asked.

  “Negative. We’re not in search and rescue. We got a timetable and we’re gonna make it.”

  “I can’t get this math to work, sir.” Hannah stepped onto the gangplank. “Even with the Slipstream Regulator, it’s impossible to fly fast enough.”

  “We don’t gotta worry about the regulator. Ain’t that right, Miss Rayweather?”

  “The Captain is correct.” Natalia brushed her hair behind her ears, trying to redeem what was left of her professional demeanor. It was of little use. The fight inside the moon was almost too much for her. Her shoulders slouched and she no longer commanded the same presence as before. Still, it would be foolish to not hear her. Regardless of her change in personality, she was still in charge of the moon base. That meant something to those who needed the new intel.

  “We have a series of Hypergates lined up approximately two million miles apart.” Natalia said.

  “Hypergates?” Hannah perked up. “I love Wartech!” The young specialist ran back up the gangplank and disappeared into the ship.

  “I suppose that was the missing factor she needed.” Syracuse smiled.

  “The last gate was destroyed so you’ll have to rely on your own engines to get you the rest of the way.” She looked at her watch. Her hands were shaking. “By the time you get there, Jupiter will be even farther away.”

  “Let us worry about that.” Irons put his hands on her shoulders and could feel her shudder then relax, slightly.

  “Thank you, Captain. Thank you for…”

  “It was nothing. And it probably won’t be the last time. Not for us, anyway.”

  “I’d like to apologize for my attitude, earlier. It was—”

  “Efficient,” Irons winked at her, a secret between the two of them. “You got a tight ship to run, here. So do I. But if you really want to apologize, make sure my boat is fueled up and newly armed.”

  “Think that’s possible considering how many Wartech guys are still laying on the floor?” Durham asked.

  “The moon base is almost fully automated.” Some of Natalia’s composure was returning.

  “So why all the personnel?” Irons asked.

  “While I am not privy to all of Mr. Stevens’s business practices, if I had to guess, I would say tax reasons.”

  Syracuse raised one eye brow while Lindsay cracked a smile. Durham didn’t even try to stifle his laugh.

  “I realize it’s another obstacle but we’ll need a couple of hours to arm the Lucky Liberty,” Natalia said. “In the meantime, might I suggest you all get some rest.”

  “R&R!” Durham clapped his hands.

  “Get on the boat and take weapons inventory.” Irons pointed at the cargo bay.

  Durham’s shoulders slumped in defeat as he trudged up the gangplank.

  “We’ll wait on board,” Irons said.

  * * *

  It had taken some time to get used to but the standard sized crewman’s quarter wasn’t so bad once Irons had slept in it enough times. At the end of the day, all he really needed was a place to lay down and close his eyes. And being a soldier, he’d slept in far less comfortable places. The spoils of a Captain’s quarters hadn’t made him completely jaded. But there were times when he did miss that perk.

  “Captain,” Hannah said, bursting into his room.

  The words shocked him awake from a quick nap. “What is it?”

  “Sir, I’ve plugged in all the numbers and run all the simulations.”

  “Skip the math.”

  “Sir. Factoring in Jupiter’s orbit on our arrival and traveling through the Hypergates, Slipstream Regulator at its narrowest, will put us within roughly five-hundred thousand miles of target.”

  “How’s that work with our deadline?”

  “It doesn’t, sir. Even if we could make it on pure speed, which we can’t, we’ll run out of fuel before we can make the deadline.”

  Seventeen

  Always Something

  The equations Hannah Xuyen used involved distances so vast and velocities so high that anyone without an IQ level well above genius could never fathom the math involved. Math that worked. Just not to their advantage.

  Dealing with attack ships and ground troops was one thing. Irons understood those concepts. Even thrust percentages made sense to him. He was the Captain of his ship so of course he knew every working facet of it. The additional engine attachment made things a little less clear but the fundamentals were still there. When an enemy shot at him, he shot back. Years of training and battlefield experience made such issues almost as easy as breathing. But fathoming that failure was just around the corner was a foreign concept to him. Worse was the effect of that failure. The Earth taken over and all of humanity enslaved because he couldn’t get the job done? It simply wasn’t an option. But the numbers, according to Hannah, didn’t lie.

  “She’s all gassed up and ready to move.” Syracuse steppe
d onto the bridge.

  “Boss, these new gun emplacements are nuts.” Durham dropped into his seat. “They’re just like the Wartech ships. Except for the main cannon, no more manual control. They spot an enemy, it’s over.”

  “Any chance of getting one of those hard light projectors?” Syracuse asked.

  “Miss Rayweather said those only work for lighter vehicles,” Durham told him.

  Irons did not respond to any of them as he rubbed at his eye.

  “Boss? You ok?” Durham asked.

  “You run that inventory?”

  “Yeah but—”

  “Whadda you mean, ‘yeah’?”

  Durham stared rather dumbfounded at the unexpected reaction. “Yes sir.”

  “Run it again. I wanna be sure.”

  Durham glanced at Syracuse for better understanding.

  “Actually, I’m wondering the same as him, Captain. You ok?” Syracuse asked.

  “Do I look ok?”

  “As a matter of fact—”

  “Captain!” Lindsay rushed onto the deck and saluted.

  “What?” Irons said, irritated by her posturing.

  Like Durham before, Lindsay glanced at Syracuse, confused by Irons’s tone.

  “At ease,” Syracuse told her. “What have you got?”

  “Sir, I took the liberty of loading extra fuel in the cargo hold. I thought we might need it.”

  “That solves that problem,” Hannah said.

  “What problem?” Durham asked.

  “According to my calculations—”

  “You fixed the lack of gas issue,” Irons stood from his seat and looked at Lindsay. “Good soldier. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  “Sir, I was just—“

  “Doing your job, I know!” Irons yelled at her. “We’re all just doing our jobs.”