Star Conqueror: Recompense: An Epic Space Harem Adventure

by J. A. Cipriano

  * * *

  ATS-210 Power Frame

  Type: Defensive Exoframe

  Item Level: 62

  Durability: 43,000/43,000

  Enchantments: None

  Historical Data: A precursor to the first generation of modern power suits, exoframes provide physical enhancement, energy shielding, and access to the earliest forms of power credit upgrade systems. Last recorded battle use of an ATS-210 was the holding action on Delphi VI, one-hundred-seventy-two years ago.

  CAUTION: Use of an exoframe in modern combat is ill-advised and could lead to serious injury and/or death.

  * * *

  I stood up, running my hands slowly over my face. I normally wouldn’t even think about wasting cart space on these things, but this wasn’t a normal situation. All I had to ask myself was if I had to fight for my freedom from a more powerful force, would I want one of these ancient exoframes or slave rags?

  Starting to chuckle, I shook my head. “Looks like I was the one to find the muskets.”

  9

  As we rushed the three hover carts laden with weapons, ammo, and those three ancient exoframes into the Orion’s small cargo bay and strapped them down, Tulip’s voice called over the ship’s intercom. “Welcome back, everyone, and not a moment too soon. Based on the hyperspace chatter Clara’s been hearing—”

  “Our commandeering of the depot’s communications antennae has produced the desired results,” Clara cut in. “Our continued updates detailing the heroic defense of the facility seem to have inspired some hope among the Leonis IV defense fleet that they can indeed secure your capture, David.”

  “So, I’m guessing they’re sending an even bigger force than we expected?” I asked as I checked the straps securing the exoframes. They were just like the old-fashioned ratcheting straps you might use when moving furniture back on Earth, just made out of fabric that could stop bullets.

  Turner ratcheted the last strap into place on the cart he had loaded, grinning at the news. “I hope so! That’ll just mean more explosions!”

  “Be serious, friend Turner,” Alyra frowned. “While your dedication to the art of destruction is appreciated, our full load of Gamma bombs was six, yes?” As he nodded, she continued, “If they send even half their fleet, that simply will not be enough firepower … will it?”

  Turner just started laughing, his barrel gut shaking with delight. “Oh, you’ll see!” He winked at her as I led the way towards the bridge. “I’ve done certain … modifications to the bombs on top of adding guidance systems.”

  “Still, we can’t count on that entirely, buddy,” I said as I broke into a jog now that we were in a place that wasn’t going to fall apart if I sneezed wrong. “If Leonis dispatched ships in response to Tulip and Clara’s little communication trickery, their response is going to come in waves. The smart bombs will devastate the first response, and maybe one or two will last to the second wave, but that’s not a guaranteed kill state.”

  Clara’s voice chimed through the halls as we crossed the Orion, “While I am not sure of the precise dispensation and size of Leonis IV’s fleet, I can assure you that there were three distinct dispatches of vessels.”

  “So, the real question is what we are going to do about it,” Tulip said. “Do we try to take out all the incoming ships, or do we concentrate on getting to Leonis as fast as possible while their security net is weakened by this?”

  None of us had an immediate answer because we were all smart enough not to make a snap decision here. How we answered this situation could easily decide the outcome of the entire mission. Even the most gung-ho or quick-witted of us weren’t going to snap off an opinion before we took a moment to think it through. That’s certainly what I was doing.

  After all, the mark of a good leader wasn’t just thinking on the fly. It was also knowing when to take a moment to assess a situation and decide on the best path to follow.

  There were pros and cons to both. If we could take out all the ships Leonis sent, that would not only knock out a large part of their planetary defenses but weaken their ability to provide orbital reinforcements when our little slave revolt happens. However, there was a real risk of being overwhelmed. No matter how well-built our Hunter scout ship was, it was a scout and patrol vessel. It wasn’t a capital ship or a destroyer or anything like that, and while we had pulled some clutch wins against bigger foes, we couldn’t afford to get caught by, say, five capital ships or an entire swarm of fighters.

  On top of that, we’d have to wait, maybe a good half-hour or more, for every part of the Leonis ships to show. They were sent in waves, after all, egged on by Tulip and Clara’s reports. That’s wasted time, time for communication to get back to Leonis so that they could prepare a response. If we got going before they showed, we’d have a head start on them.

  See, it was dangerous to break out of hyperspace prematurely. In hyperspace, you were vibrationally out of tune with normal space, meaning you don’t have to worry about most physical matter, and hyperspace routes were built around that to maximize speed. So, the odds were pretty damn high that if you cut a jump short, you’d come out of hyperspace in a moon, a planet, or something else large and ship-destroying. The Leonis units would have to wait to get here before turning around.

  It was a choice of big risk vs. big reward, and as we broke onto the bridge, everyone moving to their stations, I knew all eyes were on me to make the call. The Orion rumbled slightly as the engines powered up, magnetic landing gear letting go of the ravaged hangar bay’s wall, as I strapped myself in. As we drifted through the field of debris still lingering in the bat, I made my decision.

  “I’m sure that some of you are itching for a real scrap,” I began, glancing toward Turner and Alyra, “but we won’t free the oppressed workers of Leonis or get the magitech the Resistance needs to win this war if we’re blown into scrap.” I focused on Turner. “Sorry, big guy, I know you wanted a ringside seat to watch the fireworks, but can you set that Annihilator bomb you left in the warehouse on a timer?”

  I expected someone to object, but for her part, Alyra nodded once quickly and spun around to her station, while Turner gave me the biggest aw, shucks look I’d ever seen. “That’d have been a hoot, David Briggs, but the Resistance is more important than a good show.” He pulled out an elaborate and extensively jury-rigged detonator from his pack and laid it in the center of his console. “Besides, if I were to die, my wife would find a way to bring me back to life, so she could kill me all over again for leaving her and the children.” He looked over his console towards Clara. “Hey, Clara, any indication of how far apart our visitors are coming? I don’t want to leave without making sure they get a present too.”

  “I’d approximate fifteen minutes, give or take, Turner dear,” the ex-Matriarch offered with a distracted smile, her attention obviously split between eavesdropping on the incoming fleets and monitoring sensors.

  Turner grinned and began setting the timer on the modified detonator, pushing a few stray wires out of the way as he spun a dial. “Thank you kindly!”

  Tulip was tapping away at navigation the whole time. “I took the liberty of plotting a jump from the far side of Exo to Leonis. If they jump in while we are still prepping, we’ll have a few moments of cover before they catch us on sensors, assuming they live through the smart bombs.”

  “Do it.” I gave her a nod and a smile for emphasis, bringing up sensors on my screen. The least I could do with everyone else focused on their tasks was to ease her burden. “Clara, focus on monitoring Matriarchy comms. I want to know the chatter the moment things start going boom here in Exo. I’ll play eyes and ears for now.”

  “Of course, darling.” Clara’s long fingers danced across her screen as her golden eyes narrowed in concentration. I couldn’t imagine how many signals she was already having to sort to keep her ear on this, but there wasn’t anyone else I’d ask to do the job.

  “Let’s do it.”

  I kept my eyes peeled on the sensor fe
eds, ranging them out as far as I could get reliable readings from, as Tulip guided us expertly through the split hangar bar doors. Shards of metal and shredded machinery nudged around the ship’s shields as we pulled out of the station and back into the debris field the Zultars’ decimation had left behind. The stillness of open space and the glint of starlight off the asteroids drifting past filled the viewscreens, and for a moment, it looked like we would get away scot-free.

  Just as Tulip was about to engage our main thrusters, the medium-range sensors, the ones that would just about reach the jump point from Leonis, lit up with high-energy particle vibrations. That was the usual sign that ships were exiting or entering hyperspace, and that wasn’t honestly that surprising. The decaying station’s maze of cut-offs and ruined corridors had eaten into our lead considerably.

  What caused me to gape a bit at the readings was their intensity. I had expected a solid response from Leonis, just because of who I was. Our fight with Alyra and what I had learned in the process of freeing her, the extent to which the elusive Mother of Chains in particular wanted my head, made me something to throw a lot of resources at. This, though, this was excessive, even by Matriarchy standards.

  “Holy shit,” I cursed. “I’m getting jump vibrations from at least four capital ships and four escorts of various sizes!” My eyes snapped up to the viewscreen, where out in the blackness of space, time and space distorted with iridescent light, the silvery spires of massive Matriarchy warships splitting the inky purple radiance. “Tulip …”

  “We’re gone!” she cried as the Orion’s engines roared, shaking the ship as Tulip deftly spun us in space, maneuvering thrusters firing in rapid succession.

  “Turner, squeeze me every drop of extra energy to engines and get the hyper-drive primed!” I said, rattling off commands. “Alyra, redirect anything excess to Turner, but keep our shields and anti-missile systems up. Clara, can we cloak and prep drives at the same time?”

  We hadn’t needed to before, and this was still very new tech, both to me and the Resistance. Clara, though, did know how this thing worked, as she was the one who helped us install it in the first place. While she was a healer first, it was amazing the depth of knowledge she had from her role as a ‘mere’ administrator.

  Turner and Alyra both grunted their assents, while Clara frowned and shook her head. “I’m sorry, David. We could, but the energy signatures from a priming hyperdrive will still cut through the cloak, much like the Hive control signals. It would simply drain unnecessary power.”

  As the energy ripples calmed in space, my sensor feed stabilized and positive identifications rolled across my screen. “Understood. We can’t afford to let them hit us with vibrational grapples, or we’ll get torn apart. Hate to say it, the smart bombs aren’t going to—”

  And that’s when the Gamma bombs went off, the tremendous energy output blowing out the sensor feeds for a long moment. Tulip had already rocketed us to the edge of the oblong rock that the Exo depot was built atop, but we could all see through the side viewscreens the tremendous flash of energy as they detonated one after another in rapid succession. Even as far out as we were, the Orion still shuddered slightly from the backlash.

  “Come on, babies!” Turner encouraged as his stubby fingers went to work, both urging on the engines and his bombs. “You can do it!”

  Alyra’s lips pressed into a tight line as her clear eyes focused not on the viewscreen, but her tactical display. “My dragon, I am still getting power readouts from some of the enemy ships. Missiles are launching!”

  That’s when my own sensors cleared up, the ships still too far out and too clouded by newly formed debris to make out much. Alyra was right, of course. Not only did we have a barrage of incoming missiles, I now had positive locks myself on the remaining ships.

  Turner’s special packages had done more than anyone could have expected in this situation. What had been a planet-busting fleet of two Tierra-class battleships, two Esterra-class dreadnoughts, three Hive-class carriers, and two Sonna-class interceptors was now down to the two dreadnoughts and one lucky-as-sin fighter carrier. The stellar horizon was strewn with shattered small vessels, while the Tierras were badly damaged and mostly incapacitated, which was more than enough to keep them from being a threat.

  But two Esterras, even damaged as they were, meant a dozen docked fighters a piece, and even if their main guns couldn’t evaporate us with one direct hit, the swarm of incoming missiles and scrambling fighters would. Each dreadnought was the size of Exo-7813 on its own, long vessels of pure white magnificence. Unlike the straight lines and hard angles of a Resistance ship, the Esterra had the same swooping, curved elegance of Matriarchy architecture, as if they took great pains to ensure that you died knowing something out of an art gallery had killed you. While both ships had taken some solid damage from the Gammas, neither had been struck in any vital areas, especially with the many redundancies a ship the size of that had.

  As if to emphasize that point, a torrent of missiles filled our sensors and the viewscreen, the narrow tips of each Esterra began to split, the ominous blue glow of a massive, planet-splitting fusion cannon showing through the opening cavities.

  “Get us the hell out of here!” I commanded. “I can tell when we aren’t wanted around. Alyra, take those missiles down. I’m firing up the railguns to help.”

  There were no quips and no asides, not this time. This was clenched teeth, maximum effort time as we all went to work. We weren’t licked, not yet. We still had surprise, speed, distance, and a much easier win state on our side. All we had to do was get away, and we were about to put a large asteroid in the way. Not that it would stop the Esterras for long, but all we needed was a few extra seconds.

  “Ten seconds,” Turner growled. “Literally ten seconds!”

  No need to ask what he meant by that. Ten seconds until we could jump. My fingers danced as I fired up the rail gun turrets, Alyra already laying down a withering field of fire from the smaller anti-missile guns. The first wave of missiles exploded as we laid into them, even as Tulip punched us from maneuvering speed to maximum, eschewing a turn around the asteroid to put as much open space between us and the enemy ships as possible.

  “I hate to interrupt,” Clara said, her melodic voice surprisingly mirthful despite our terrible situation, “but the captain of the Maiden’s Spear is calling for our surrender. Shall I inform her to shove that surrender so far up her ass that she will taste it in the morning?”

  Even through the whine of the inertial dampers, the screaming of our engine, and the cacophony of incoming missiles exploding, hearing Clara say that made me laugh. Hell, it made us all laugh. Even Alyra let out a little chortle.

  “Please do,” I said with a grim smile on my lips, taking out another three incoming missiles. A green light flashed in the corner of my screen, with the alert Hyperdive primed! popping out to signal our salvation.

  I didn’t even have time to make the command because Tulip was already engaging the drive. As the universe warped around us and the stars stretched to eternity, the only sound that echoed in the chamber was Clara’s voice as she did indeed inform the enemy captain to shove it up her ass.

  10

  I wiped my hands down my face as I deactivated armored mode, the thick plates dissipating back into my suit. I hadn’t realized just how bad I had been sweating until that moment, but it was already starting to cool as we left Exo-7813 in the cosmic distance. That had been too close for comfort, but I didn’t want to say it aloud. Best for morale to keep that inside, though I had to assume everyone else was thinking the same thing.

  I guess it shouldn’t have been a surprise to have Tulip’s free hand tracing the side of my arm, as much to calm herself as to comfort me, as she made the last few adjustments to our heading through hyperspace.

  “Well, another death-defying escape,” she said with the same devil-may-care attitude she applied to all of our near-death moments. “Maybe next time we can make it more fun by con
vincing them to bring the entire Royal Armada to take us in.” She winked at me. “Clara and I almost managed it this time. Next time for sure!”

  That on top of Clara’s snark leaving the system was enough to crack the bit of lingering tension from what we had left behind. I cracked a smile and winked back. “Well, here’s to hoping.” Looking across the bridge at my friends, I continued, “Fantastic job, everyone. I know that looked like a close one, but this actually worked out better than we could have hoped for.”

  Turner blinked at that as he stowed his detonator. “Oh? Now, don’t get me wrong, we crippled not one but two Tierras, and we did fill our hold with stolen loot.” He raised his meaty mitts. “But considering my hopes were to wipe out everything they sent at us with those bombs, I’m a bit disappointed.” He mumbled something like, “Shoulda used more explosives,” under his breath.

  “Sure, that would have been great,” I explained, “but take a look at the bigger picture. They didn’t throw just a token force at us there, like diverting a one fighter squadron and a carrier. If that was just the first wave they sent, what do you think are in the second and third ones?” Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my arms with a hint of a smirk. “Thanks to the ladies’ gentle coaxing, they must have sent almost the entire fleet they had on hand after us.”

  Clara looked properly smug under the praise as she stretched back to give Tulip a high-five, which she gladly returned. Turner’s thoughtful frown ticked up as he nodded slowly.

  “So, we’ve got an hour-plus window of clear skies once we come out of hyperspace to get down to Leonis and make contact with a Resistance cell.” He reached under his console into a storage cubby and produced a Twinkie, which he carefully unwrapped. “The ships will get back eventually, sure, probably later than we think as they have to make repairs to the dreadnoughts at least, but it gives us time we didn’t have before.”