by Ernest Filak
He enlarged the image that was being analyzed by the central computer. HHMS Sword was hardly visible due to the distance that was between them, but he could see two front and two rear turrets of the main artillery. Next to the ship the data about its speed and current course were being displayed. To the astonishment of the observers the predator was hiding its claws. The turrets quickly disappeared inside the body of the ship, which was a typical procedure before getting the main drive started in interstellar space. The Admiral was thus confirming his non-militant intentions. There were two other ships within their shooting range: the newly-built armed ships HES Independence and HES Victory, now both manned by the revolutionaries. When comparing the mass of the vessels one would think that it was the revolutionaries who had an incredibly larger firepower at their disposal. However, the disproportion wasn’t that obvious. Sword was manned by a well tuned crew, who knew the ship and could take full advantage of it. Both revolutionary vessels hadn’t yet gone thorough real tests. The potential defects that would always be revealed when a ship was working fully loaded hadn’t been corrected yet. Independence and Victory were massive boxers, who had just entered the ring for the first time and were to compete against a professional. Maybe not the champion yet, but definitely a well seasoned player.
Regardless of the reason, the departure of HHMS Sword wasn’t marked by any exchange of fire. The remaining separatist ships weren’t so lucky. Fighting still continued there on board. What remained of the flagship HHMS Fury was an aimlessly floating casket full of radioactivity. As soon as the Admiral fled, traffic among small units increased. Cargo and passenger shuttles reached out to the ships that were attempting escape.
“Skipper, we’re receiving more reverberations of phase piles.”
“This is Kuznietsov from Edward. We’ve checked the procedure. The engineer guarantees it’s clear. We’re getting down to starting it up.”
In these circumstances Cassino could make only one decision.
“Machine room. Get the pile started according to the procedure received.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He then connected with his deputy officer.
“Jim, we’re running out of time. Have you got anything on Moses?”
“I’m afraid not. What I found in the archives are just facts from Earth mythology.”
“Too bad.”
“Captain, HHMS Hammer is flying in our direction!” the technical officer reported. “Fifteen minutes remaining to contact.”
The computer console showed that the most probable course of the armored ship was dangerously close. The other separatist vessels decided to set out in divergent directions. Presumably, Admiral Black had planned to disperse forces. Was he really intent on leaving the system or was it just a tactical ploy?
“Get her ready for battle,” Cassino issued an order.
Employing the remains of its energy the ship ejected its artillery turrets and opened torpedo launchers. King Edward followed suit.
“Tracking. Send one signal,” he ordered.
“Send one signal!” the commander of the section echoed.
Ping! A hard beam of radio waves whizzed towards Hammer, bounced back and after a minute returned to the sender.
“Feed the data into the torpedoes. Get the bow launchers numbered one to four ready,” the ship commander removed the cover off the security button. Now it was enough to press the red button to send the deadly cigars into space.
“Torpedoes are ready!”
“Hammer is changing course, going though anti-torpedo motions.”
Hammer’s Commander had had enough trouble already on board of his ship with the groups of revolutionaries that were making it impossible for his unit to function normally. The fighting had died down and both sides had taken their secure positions, but access to many sectors of the ship was impossible. The First Mate died in the first minutes after the attack. The main mechanic got the unenviable duty of conducting the negotiations. No wonder the Commander decided not to take the risk. Receiving the signal of the active tracking radar and the sight of the open launchers was warning enough. His unit quickly changed its flight path.
There was no time for joy. The escape of so many ships alarmed the Aliens. Although they remained outside the shooting range of human units, they activated their weaponry. A bullet approaching the speed of light flew towards the huge body of the fleet supply ship. It maneuvered past a few smaller ships swerving in a way no human rocket could and hit its hull. A network of black explosions spread all over the ship. The transporter lost its maneuverability and the fire blasts from its side engines disappeared. Signal lights burnt and the ship was now veiled in ominous darkness.
“Change torpedo targets,” Cassino immediately made a decision. “New target: the central unit of the Aliens.”
They had been practicing this maneuver forever, so the confirmation came back very quickly.
“Fire!” the Commander of HES Judgment pressed the red button.
“Tony,” the First Mate spoke on the private channel. “We won’t be able to hit the target.”
“Fuck the hitting,” for the first time Commander Cassino showed his emotional state. “We need time before we get back our maneuverability.”
“Are we helping the traitors now?”
“We’re supporting humans in their fight against an unknown enemy. Make sure the crew of the torpedo section have something to do. Send them out in different sequences. You might figure out a way of scoring a hit. We could use a few confounding warheads. Detonate a few prematurely – this should give us similar effect.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Other escapees also joined the barrage. After the first few missiles, the Alien formation loosened its ranks. Three smaller objects moved forward. For some reason, they chose an old trawler, almost a museum piece, as their next target. Maybe it was its unusual shape that they found unnerving. The Alien missiles had the advantage of being fired at a full speed, so the victim found out about them seconds before being hit. The old space tramp somehow managed to get its phase pile started, however. A faint halo of protective field came to life around it, although it was far from being stable. The captain of the ship sent most of the newly regained power towards the main drive. The trawler jumped ahead right before the execution.
The bullet that was supposed to destroy it didn’t continue its flight. It didn’t try to make a turn but exploded right where the target was supposed to be. The explosion happened without a flash of light, but rather created an evenly spreading dark wave. It started disappearing as soon as it arrived and yet it managed to scoop two cargo shuttles. They lost maneuverability and without any visible damage kept flying inertly.
No mayday signals were being sent from the supply ship or any of the shuttles. Everybody watching the effects of the new weapon hoped that they ships were mute due to a paralysis of all the electronic devices and not because their whole crews had perished.
Only now were the first torpedoes getting close to the Aliens. Having reached their maximum speed, the slim cigars flew until their fuel had burnt out. HES Judgment was far away. They kept flying with a constant speed. Everybody on the bridge held their breath waiting for the outcome. First one ball of fire flashed, then two at the same time, and one more after that. Somebody shouted with joy, supported by other voices. The commander remained serious.
“Tactical, confirm the hit, please,” he demanded.
There was silence. The staff of the bridge patiently waited for the answer.
“No confirmation, Sir. The Aliens have not been hit. It is them who destroyed our torpedoes.”
This was very bad news. The Aliens clearly had a technological advantage that made it possible for them to destroy an object flying almost as fast as the speed of light. People would try to dodge in similar situations. They didn’t know a method that would allow such a precise hit. Cassino had heard about advanced research being done in that field, but it was focused on destroying a single missile in t
he case of a terrorist attack or mistake, and not a barrage.
The torpedoes that the other ships had sent met with the same fate.
“Bloody expensive fireworks, seems to me,” Cassino mumbled under his breath.
Fortunately, there was some good news as well. HES King Edward managed to get its phase pile started. Of course, Kuznietsov immediately called with the information.
“We made it. I could almost forgive Black his treason,” the Commander’s face was radiating self-complacency. The sorrows and bags disappeared from under his eyes. He felt rejuvenated again.
“Really?” Cassino expressed polite surprise.
“Sure. Right after sending Sword to the junkyard.”
“It’s not too late for that.”
HES Sword with the Admiral on board was gathering distance very quickly. Nobody was chasing it. One of them could have followed hot on its heels as the old cruiser wasn’t a worthy adversary, but keeping contact with an escapee in subspace was difficult, though not impossible. Unfortunately, it would mean leaving the system without the protection of the powers who had sworn allegiance to Earth, and being at the mercy of revolutionary forces, facing an attack or maybe even an invasion by an Alien civilization. Both the armored ship and the cruiser were unfit to do that job. A single vessel would be doomed to destruction.
“Next time, Captain,” the commander of Judgment spoke first. “We’ll get the sonofabitch next time.”
“Well said, Captain Cassino. And I heard you were a cold bastard,” Kuznietsov nodded his head with appreciation.
“Did you?” The Commander gave the whole watch a stern look. They all seemed very engrossed in their work over the panels. Cassino turned back to the display. “I’d rather not say what I heard about you.”
“Next time we’ll have to drink something stronger.”
The conversation was interrupted by information from the machine room.
“The phase pile is fully operational, Sir,” a young voice announced.
“Who is it?”
“Bosun Buggy, Sir.”
“Where is the Lieutenant?”
“He landed on the medical board, Sir. He walked into the chamber and got a few units but the medic claims he’s young and he’ll get over it soon.”
Bosun J.J.Buggy was a pain for the former commanders of the ship. He was a good and competent officer, but a dodger after hours. He would find his way around regulations all the time. Having regularly been promoted for exemplary service, he was then quickly demoted for another blunder. And so it happened over and over again. The best solution was to turn a blind eye to his misdemeanors. In the long run everybody profited from such an attitude.
“Thank you, Bosun. Do you need back up?”
“No, Skipper. Everything is now going like clockwork.”
“Make sure it continues that way.” Cassino cut the connection with the machine room. Talking to J.J Buggy longer would make him feel obliged to take some steps to make the Bosun take responsibility for his actions.
Kuznietsov didn’t comment on the conversation he had just overheard. He was listening to somebody’s report. His face was drawn and focused.
“What is going on?”
“It has started. The Aliens have started firing at the station on the Orbit of Hades,” he said.
The energy field shielding the military orbital station was flashing irregularly. The generators were trying to make up for the losses inflicted during the barrage. The separatist Uroboros ships escaped zigzagging, leaving civilians behind without any protection. They did everything to get out of the system as quickly as possible without sustaining further losses. The revolutionaries, on the other hand, only had two ships of the line, and a mass of small units kept flying between Hades and the shipyards. Fighting still continued on a few other ships, which at the moment didn’t have any battle value.
“I don’t think anybody is controlling all this,” Cassino assessed.
The Aliens were supposed to take advantage of the internal disagreements of humans. The first three units came to a halt. The cameras showed their conical solids full of antennae, masts, bubbles and outgrowths of unknown designation. The vessels turned around their axes extending long arms along which aquamarine lightning bolts traveled towards human settlements. Every convulsion of the whole construction was assisted by an energy discharge that they could watch on the military station energy shield. The whole scene looked ghastly. The station itself, deprived of its engines and so the ability to maneuver, was doomed to destruction. The only battery left was firing ineffectively. The enemy lurked outside of its range. The shield was about to give out, its shine dimming with every passing second. The first thunderbolts were reaching inside of it.
Hangar hatches on the largest Alien ship, which was staying behind, opened up, spilling tens of smaller units into space.
“Let’s welcome our guests the best we can,” Kuznietsov suggested.
“I’m glad to have made your acquaintance.”
“Likewise, Captain Cassino.”
Chapter V
The Second Planet of the Hadesian System
The Star Troopers have also suffered losses. They were the result of gunfire as they hadn’t actually got under the blades of the scythes. The functioning of the new weapon also made quite an impression on the old hands. We withdrew to find cover under the thick canopies of the densely-growing trees. Gall was approached by the sergeant who had talked to him before the confrontation. His rifle was carelessly hanging from his shoulder. In his mouth he had a narco-cigarette that he was pulling at lustily.
“We’ve lost six people,” he reported angrily through his clenched teeth. “Picky among them.”
Somehow I didn’t feel sorry about this one. I didn’t like him from the start. Actually, it was only now that I realized that the man who was now reporting was Picky’s buddy and they both had “welcomed” us to the orbital station. One less prick is always one less weed to pull.
The sergeant took off his helmet and sat down on it. He looked up at the impenetrable wall of branches and leaves.
“You think they won’t find us here? If they have good thermal imaging….”
“Shut the fuck up, Sergeant,” Gall growled.
The dozen Star Troopers who survived attentively listened to the conversation of their supervisors. A few of them raised their eyes worryingly. They were facing a danger they didn’t know how to fight. But they were pros and it was only details that gave their apprehension away.
“Andy, only two incomplete teams and a support section is what is left of the whole platoon. All electronic equipment is gone. We don’t have communications or transport. Nothing. Nada.” The officer threw his cigarette end on the ground and stifled it with his boot. “Apart from that we have terrorists breathing down our necks and fuck knows who else.”
“I’m not a terrorist,” the young man protested. He got back on his feet. He wasn’t shaking or lisping anymore, and he wiped dirt off his jacket.
“Who the hell are you then?”
“I’m a member of The International Che Guevara Brigade,” he answered proudly. “We’re fighting against the exploitation of the working classes.”
It made even me sick. It’s a fact that I fought on the side of the revolutionaries, but I never gave a shit for the ideologist mumbo-jumbo. It was always about the same thing – how to keep your mouth above the shit line. Sometime the revenge motif came up but the banalities about the dawn of freedom? Yuck.
“Shut up, bastard!” the Sergeant apparently didn’t believe in ideals either. “You’re subject to treason charges, terrorist!”
To everybody’s surprise, the young man began laughing and he couldn’t stop himself.
“I’ll beat the shit out of him....”
“Come on, Mark,” Andy Gall stopped the sergeant from standing up. He put his hand on the gun that was protruding from his hip holster and turned to the revolutionary. “Could you tell us what you’re finding so funny?”
The young man managed to control himself.
“We’re fighting for Earth as it used to be. For freedom and democracy. It’s not me but you who are the traitors,” the revolutionary said indignant. He pointed to the Uroboros sign embroidered on the soldiers’ uniform sleeves. “It’s your concern that declared itself separatist and announced the creation of kingdom. When the Marines come and we find ourselves in their hands, I will get a sentence of two or three years, at a maximum. You’ll be lucky not to be blown away on the spot.
His words had the effect of a grenade exploding. Our whole world turned upside down. If Uroboros had actually announced severing ties with the home planet of the human race, it changed the whole situation completely. With a bit of good will on the side of the court, the revolutionary uprising could be declared as a form of fighting against the enemies of Earth. It was a fact that its complex administrative system and the armed forces looked through their fingers at the antics of the unionists, whereas any movements which aimed at separation from the supremacy of the Earth were punished most severely.
“Fuck, Andy, do you get what he’s fucking saying?” the First Sergeant apparently didn’t understand the implication of all the news he was hearing.
The other Star Troopers didn’t either, as they were all waiting for Sergeant Major’s opinion. I saw a sly smile that ran through Theodore’s lips. My buddy was clearly recovering fast under Sunshine’s tender loving care. I showed him discreetly a thumbs up. He nodded slightly. Our chances of improving our status were significantly better now. A sentence of a few years was nothing compared to the life-long fate of a Uroboros slave.
I rubbed my hands against my scalp where my hair had started growing back. Maybe I could even manage to get rid of the white cross on my skull and the number tattooed on my forehead? Seeing Andy Gall’s expression, however, I realized that we would have to last until the arrival of the Marines, which would not be happening too soon. And it would not be that easy. The bastards may not want to keep any witnesses alive. I had one more reason to try to find a way out to freedom. There must be some other revolutionary squads in the vicinity. Looking back, what they’re advocating isn’t that bad, right? I felt like talking to Ingrid, but of course she’d disappeared somewhere. I wasn’t excited enough for her to get in touch. This had to wait until the evening.
