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NORDIC WRATH (War In the Void Book 2)

Page 13

by Anthony Thackston


  “You don’t even know if it works?” Durham asked, worried. “What if that thing turns us all inside out or puts us in a star or—”

  “Those are valid concerns but I looked over the math and it should work.”

  “Good enough for me.” Irons walked by them all, making his way to the stairs leading to a starboard side deck of his ship. There was no limp or sign of pain from him. If not for the bruises that were still apparent, Captain Irons was the perfect specimen of health.

  “Should work?” Durham asked, following the Captain.

  “You just connect the smaller teleporter to the dock in the bridge. That will activate the larger teleporter,” Hannah called out to Irons.

  “It is not a full integration. It is external so the time to teleport will not be instant. There will be a delay,” Sitasha said.

  “How long?” Hannah asked.

  “A few seconds. Maybe longer.”

  “It’ll have to do,” Irons yelled from the top of the staircase. “How much longer till the old girl is ready?”

  “Roughly thirteen more hours sir!” Hannah yelled back.

  “Make it twelve. I want an even ten hours when we we go after Haddron.”

  “I’ll try, sir.”

  “You listening, Stevens?”

  The Wartech CEO came in loud and clear. “I am, Captain. Twelve hours till launch. And can I just say, it’s good to hear you up and moving around. I was worried about—“

  “Save it.” Irons stepped aboard the side deck of the Lucky Liberty and watched as the robot arms worked to bandage up his ship. He touched his ribs and felt no bruising. Still, the patches on his ship were temporary just like the nano machines in his body. He crouched down and felt the floor of the ship. It’s borrowed time for both of us.

  “Yes, sir,” Benjamin attitude was somber. He tried to change the subject to something with more certainty. “So there’s a delay in the teleporting? You know what that means if you go head to head with the Slagschip?

  “If?”

  “I suppose I should say when you go head to head with it.”

  “Fire, move. Fire, move.”

  “Non-stop, Captain.”

  “She ain’t gonna take that many hits before being dead in the void, sir!” Syracuse yelled out.

  Big Lou stepped out from inside the ship, surprising Irons. “That’s ok. I’ve seen the weapons, sir. She’ll give better than she gets. I promise that.”

  “That Mars training is going to pay off for us, sir.” Lindsay stepped out from behind Lou. “His reload times are the fastest I’ve ever seen.”

  Irons smiled. “Good soldier.”

  Twenty

  The New Behemoth

  “Captain!” Hannah shouted. “Hull repairs on the Lucky Liberty are complete.”

  ”She good as new?”

  “Well, the holes are plugged.”

  “Then that’s what we got.”

  Irons checked the systems of his ship. Everything was green from the Bull Head mechanisms to the Repeller. Now it was just a matter of whether or not the hull could take whatever it was the Slagschip could dish out.

  “Specialist, what is it we’re dealing with?”

  “Transferring Slagschip tech specs to the main screen.” Hannah worked quickly to transfer the data.

  The main screen flickered on and Irons found himself staring at an extremely detailed diagram of the Slagschip.

  “I don’t read Nordic, Specialist.”

  “Translating, sir.” Hannah worked at her control console.

  The words on the diagram scrambled and changed to Earth english.

  “Some of the words will remain in Nordic, sir. There’s no translation for them.”

  The name of the vessel sat in bold letters at the top of the screen.

  Irons blurted it out loud. “Dreadnaught. Yeah, that’s more fitting than Slagschip.”

  Durham scanned the image, taking note of keywords that stood out to him. “You gotta be kidding me. Boss, that thing will tear right through us.”

  “We ain’t taking it head on.”

  “We won’t be able to get close enough to take it head on. It’s got automated turrets and manual ones. “ Durham turned to Hannah. “Plus that Frequency—” He looked at the diagram. “Geweer—”

  “Gun, Private Durham. Geweer is a Nordic word for gun,” Benjamin Stevens said through the Neural Transmitter.

  “You seeing this, Stevens?” Irons asked.

  “I’m patched in to the Lucky Liberty’s display systems. I figured this thing was bad but now that it’s translated, even I’m having second thoughts.”

  “You agreeing with Durham?”

  “I didn’t say that, Captain. Forget manual targeting on the Slagschip. You’re going to have to go full auto the whole way. My best advice of disabling this thing would be to never stop moving.”

  “Won’t their auto turrets keep finding us?” Lindsay asked.

  “That’s why you’ll have to teleport as soon as you…teleport.” Benjamin knew it wasn’t the best explanation.

  “We have to get under it.” Lindsay turned to Irons. “It’s like a turtle with a soft shell at the bottom. That’s where Haddron’s ship is hooked into the battle shell.”

  “So we blast away and as soon as we take on fire, we port out then back in,” Irons reiterated.

  “Originally that was the case,” Benjamin said. “But seeing the specs on this thing, I think you’re just going to have to fly under it and let your turrets do the work. If you stay in any spot for as long as it’s going to take to teleport away, the Slagschip could shred the Lucky Liberty to pieces.”

  “Even with the repairs?” Durham asked.

  “Even with the repairs.” Benjamin’s voice was sullen.

  Hannah pulled up a diagram of the Lucky Liberty. Many sections were an electric blue while a few others were lit in red. “The red sections are where the repairs were made. Since there wasn’t enough time to do it all properly, we’re practically going into this with bandages on her.”

  “We should have waited.” Durham was anxious about the weaker defense they were going out with.

  “There was no easy way for this to go down.” Irons stepped up to the display screen and looked at the diagram. “Wait for me and this old girl to get fixed up right, who knows how much more damage Haddron could cause? Or go after him with a little guts and duct tape. Either choice ain’t ideal. So we make the one does the least damage and hope for the best.”

  “You give the best speeches, Captain,” Benjamin said. Even though the crew could only hear him, they could tell Wartech CEO’s smile was as wide as ever.

  “Knock it off, Stevens.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Irons walked back to his place at the helm. “How much time we got left before these bugs start breaking down?”

  “You wanted ten, sir, you got eleven,” Hannah said. “But if what Sitasha told us is true, you’ll start to feel the effects of the nano machines breaking down before they all become inoperative.”

  Irons took a deep breath and punched in a command on his console. Red numbers appeared in the top right corner of the display screen. The clock was already counting down several seconds under eleven hours. “When are we hooking up with Allen’s ship?”

  “The Drastic Nova should be making its way into the yard any minute now,” Benjamin reported. “I gave Captain Allen a timeline.”

  Hannah changed the view on the display to the ship yard. A couple of Wartech ships sat in various states of repair, the results of the last Catter attack. None of the workers were anywhere near those ships. Everyone who wasn’t making minor finishing touches on the Lucky Liberty was waiting patiently to get to work on connecting the Drastic Nova to the old battle cruiser.

  Large manually controlled robotic arms moved toward the Lucky Liberty with the new connecting brackets.

  Durham looked at Hannah. “How are both ships gonna fit together?”

  “One on top of the oth
er,” Hannah said. She didn’t really like the approach but it was the best one they had.

  “Oh. Well, that’s easy,” Durham replied sarcastically.

  “Speaking of,” Irons said. “Hannah, give Allen a call. We’re burning daylight here.”

  Hannah input a few commands in her console and the display screen immediately switched from the garage to Roy Allen.

  “Captain Irons. It’s a welcome sight to see you up and moving around,” Roy said.

  “I appreciate that.” Irons was genuinely thankful for the sentiment from Roy. “Now, hurry it up. We don’t got time for waiting around and I got even less of it.” His tone switched, quickly, back to normal and his disdain for Roy Allen.

  “And here I thought we were getting along.”

  “We’ll get along when you get here.”

  “Relax, we’re pulling into the yard now. You’ll all make a great addition to the Drastic Nova.”

  Irons grumbled under his breath at the remark. As far as he was concerned, Roy and his crew were assisting them. Not the other way around. It was a stubborn thought, he knew, but after saving their butts in the last fight with the Catters, there was no way he could admit that the Lucky Liberty needed their help. But the truth was that they did. The Slagschip outgunned them in every way. Even with the additional maneuverability and firepower of the Drastic Nova, the odds were still not in their favor.

  The display screen suddenly switched to a woman. “This is Captain Eliza Drew. We are coming in hot. Repeat, emergency landing. Lost all controls and heading straight for Wartech ship yard.”

  “Captain!” Syracuse’s voice blared over the bridge intercom. “Freight ship, coming in fast!”

  “We just got word,” Irons said. “You got eyes on?”

  “Aye, Captain. Gonna be a crash landing from the north side entrance. And Allen’s ship ain’t docked yet.”

  “Clear everyone out!” Irons ordered. “Get Allen back on the horn!”

  Roy appeared once again.

  “Allen, you get that message?”

  “I did.”

  “Well get out of there before you’re hit!”

  “Worry about your own ship. We’re approaching the brackets now. It’s clear out of the way.”

  “Allen! Don’t be an idiot!”

  * * *

  “Move! Clear the dock!” Syracuse Hill yelled at the engineers on the floor and waved to the arm and crane operators to get out of their posts.

  It was clear that Roy Allen was unconcerned about the freighter that was heading their way. Either he didn’t know just how close it was or he was too arrogant to think it would cause a problem for his ship because the Drastic Nova slowly moved toward the brackets.

  Syracuse looked out the yard entrance and watched an escape pod rocket off the smoking behemoth as it fell straight toward them. The freight ship’s thrusters were still powered up.

  “It’s coming in at speed,” the Commander muttered before getting back on his radio. “Captain! Crash ship is coming in at speed. Repeat, she’s still got thrusters up. Tell Allen to get out, now!”

  The roar of the engines was deafening as the massive ship careened through the opening of the dock. The crash was even more earsplitting as the front of the freighter smashed into the dock floor. Screeching metal echoed in the giant space.

  Syracuse dove for cover under a nearby forklift. He shifted most of his body behind one of the tires and hoped none of the wreckage flew at him.

  The stern of the ship flipped over, well above the roof of the garage. Dock workers ran and dove for their own cover. Syracuse’s eyes widened while the rear of the space freighter crashed into the roof, tearing right through the middle of it. The thrusters continued to push the ship into the floor before they finally sputtered out.

  The metal roof of the garage screeched and bent while the freighter fell through it. Syracuse Hill watched the ship hit a side section of the Drastic Nova, forcing the Fleet ship to over compensate just to keep itself steady. He looked up at the steel beam that swung down, crashing into Roy Allen’s ship and shoving it against the wall just above the Lucky Liberty. The beam finally stopped swinging as it came to rest against the old Earth Fleet ship.

  Syracuse crawled from under the fork lift and stood to survey the chaos. The garage was so large that the tear in the roof only made it about halfway through. But even that was enough damage to drop building debris all over the floor.

  A loud bang sounded off and Syracuse spun to see more roof pieces falling to the freighter.

  “Anyone hurt?” he shouted to the whole dock.

  The few people he could see appeared to be ok. They waved affirmatives to him while helping others up. A few limps and coughs indicated no serious injuries. But those were only from the ones he could see.

  He turned his attention to the crashed freighter. The front of the ship was completely smashed from its impact with the floor. There was no point even looking for survivors. The hull of the ship was riddled with holes. Enough bullets had ripped into it that it was impossible to tell how big the ordnance would have been. None of the ship wounds was from a single shot but rather each one had been punctured multiple times. Like a hole next to a hole. Some formed the number eight. Others looked like a clover or a flower. Any one of them could have been responsible for bringing the freighter down.

  The Drastic Nova lurched up and shook. Clearly, it had been damaged. The Wartech designed Fleet ship moved to the right then curved toward the ceiling. Just watching the wavering ship, it was obvious to Syracuse that its controls were damaged.

  The Drastic Nova finally fell to the floor. Another Wartech designed ship, still under repair, broke its fall, making the crash even louder.

  As the Drastic Nova hit the floor, it rolled to its side and came to its final rest.

  Syracuse glanced up at the Lucky Liberty as Irons and the rest of the crew came out on the upper deck.

  “Hill!” Irons shouted, searching for his second.

  “West wall!” Syracuse waved.

  “I thought everyone was grounded.” Durham surveyed the carnage on the yard floor.

  “Some people just don’t know how to follow orders,” Lindsay told him.

  “Captain, should we search for survivors?” Hannah asked.

  “My people will handle this, Captain,” Benjamin broke into the conversation. “You’re running out of time. Who knows if Haddron will start making these ship attacks in-planet?”

  “But there could be injured,” Hannah reasoned.

  “He’s right, Xuyen,” Irons said. His voice was reluctantly cold. He didn’t want to leave it to chance that there were people in the crashed freighter. Or worse, that there were survivors under it. “We want to keep this from happening again, we need to go. Hill! Let’s move!”

  “Aye, Captain!” Syracuse yelled.

  “Sir, I have bad news.” Hannah pointed toward the Drastic Nova.

  Everyone looked at the downed ship laying on its side. Roy and his crew climbed down from it to the floor below. From what Irons could see they were no more than just shaken up by the ordeal.

  “There goes the extra fire power,” Durham mutterred.

  Irons looked up at the hole in the ceiling. His Cyber Eye couldn’t see anything more than the black smoke that rose into the blue sky but his focus was much higher than that. “Stevens.”

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “Roy is grounded. Repeat, the Drastic Nova is down. They’re out.”

  “What now?”

  “I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

  Twenty-One

  Solo Style

  “…as countries all over the world are having their financial institutions destroyed. We’re already seeing small scale riots at banking centers that have locked their doors, denying those who want to close out and even withdraw money from their accounts. World leaders await any demands from the still as yet unidentified assailant,” a news broadcaster said.

  “Unknown my eye.�
�� Irons turned away from the bridge display screen.

  “You cannot fight the Slagschip on your own,” Sitasha implored them.

  “After seeing what that thing can do, I’m not so sure we can fight it with Captain Allen’s help, either,” Durham said.

  “We’d better figure something out.” Syracuse turned to Irons. “Because Haddron is winning and you’re running out of time.”

  “Sir,” Hannah started. “Without the Drastic Nova, we’ve lost accelerated maneuverability and the additional firepower. We were already outgunned but now—”

  “We might as well not even have guns,” Lindsay finished Hannah’s sentence.

  The whole bridge fell silent, everyone trying to come up with some solution to the whole situation. It was a luxury they really didn’t have. The problems were only going to get worse. Grounded ships didn’t include those making their way to Earth and Haddron already established those off planet were free targets. And people were already starting to fight amongst each other.

  “Fire. Move,” Irons muttered.

  “Sir?” Lindsay asked.

  “Listen up.” Irons stepped behind the old mariner wheel. “We’re doing this on our own.”

  “Captain,” Sitasha protested.

  “That thing’s already taken down one too many ships. Can’t risk more Fleet cruisers. They’d just get in the way, anyhow. If there was another way, we’d take it. But there ain’t. We’ll teleport around the Slagschip, fingers on the trigger. I don’t care how many guns he’s got. He can’t hit what ain’t there.”

  No one uttered a word. No protest or willingness to follow. It was just the way things were going to go whether they liked the plan or not. And they all knew it wasn’t much of a plan.

  “You know where he is?” Irons asked.

  “There is a specific place but I do not know if he will be there,” Sitasha said.

  “If he ain’t there, we’ll wait till he is.”

  * * *

  “Are you sure it is wise to provoke them so fast?” Naura asked with a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

 

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