by M. R. Forbes
“You just make it so easy,” Nerd replied.
“And you don’t?”
Dak’s voice interrupted them. “Disengaging FTL in five. Four. Three. Two. One.”
Gant could sense the change as the Brimstone slowed, dropping out of FTL in a burst of disterium behind one of Kell’s three moons. It was the same approach Dak said he had taken with Ursan earlier, one that had allowed them to almost land on the planet without being detected.
“Scanning,” Iann said. “Standby.”
Gant held his breath, waiting for the results. If their plan worked, it would take nearly thirty minutes for them to slip past the orbital defense. He had suited up in case the plan didn’t work.
“Engaging cloaking systems,” Dak said.
“No activity from the planet,” Iann said a few seconds later. “Sensors are picking up four signatures matching the Nephilim reactors.”
“Great,” Benhil said. “Four ships, nine missiles. We can even afford to miss a few times.”
“Two of them are in orbit around the planet,” Iann said, finishing her sentence.
“Oh, frag,” Benhil said. “Well, hopefully the Brimstone can handle two?”
“We have to make those torpedoes count,” Erlan said.
“Sir, we’ve identified the slave camp. Sending coordinates to the shuttle now.”
“Roger,” Gant said.
“Cloaking system active,” Dak said.
“Lieutenant Iann,” Gant said. “Run the secondary sensor protocol.”
“Gant?” Dak said. “You said you weren’t sure if it would work?”
“Worst case, we still pick up nothing,” he replied.
Abbey had told him not to spend too much time on fine-tuning the updated sensor algorithms to try to pick out cloaked ships, and he hadn’t. Well, he hadn’t taken any time from his other duties. He didn’t need that much sleep, anyway.
“Scanning,” Iann said.
Gant waited. The only problem with his update was that he had no way of knowing if it worked unless the sensors registered something, and he didn’t want there to be any other ships out there.
“Sir, we’ve got four more ships on sensors,” Iann announced.
“We just rounded the moon, and I’m eyeballing the positions,” Dak said. “There’s nothing there.”
“Cloaked,” Gant said.
“That’s so awesome,” Nerd said, excited. “It worked.”
“Not awesome,” he replied. “There are six Nephilim warships in orbit around Kell, and two on the ground.”
“Eight ships,” Benhil said.
“Thanks, math genius,” Gant said. “The point is, if we go in there, we’re going to get torn apart. Thraven knew we were coming, and he left a seriously unfriendly welcoming party.”
38
“What do you want to do about it?” Dak said.
“We can’t just turn tail,” Gant replied. “Queenie’s going to be sending Kett here to back us up.”
“So maybe we should wait for Kett,” Benhil said.
“We can’t. We planned this assault with the idea that Thraven would bring his best ships with him, not leave six of them behind. We didn’t even think he would have six of them to leave behind.”
“Well, whose stupid plan was that?”
“You were there, Jester. You didn’t say it was stupid at the time.”
“Because I didn’t think we were going to be wrong at the time.”
Gant growled softly. “Shut up and let me think. Iann, can you relay the Brimstone’s feed to the shuttle’s HUD so I can see the formation?”
“Aye, sir.”
The HUD ahead of him changed, showing him the pings of the ships in orbit around Kell. It was a formidable force, one that the Rejects had no chance of standing against in a straight-on fight. But why would they even attempt a straight-on fight?
“Okay, Plan B,” Gant said.
“You already have a Plan B?” Benhil said.
“Captain Mann didn’t bring me along for my charming personality.”
“That’s for sure.”
“Dak, you said you got the Brimstone past the orbital defenses cloaked, and managed to bring her in close enough that you practically landed?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“That’s exactly what we’re going to do. Slide in past the outer defenses and take her into the atmosphere.”
“The thermospheric burn is going to give us away,” Dak said.
“Maybe, but if we stay positioned over the top of the ships on the ground, the enemy may be a little more cautious about firing down on us. They don’t want to send a torpedo into the midst of the fleet.”
“Or crash us on top of it,” Dak said. “Okay, I can get behind that.”
“This isn’t a good idea,” Benhil said.
“Why not?” Gant asked.
“You’re putting us in the middle of a fragging Nephilim sandwich. Above and below?”
“We have two advantages right now,” Gant said. “One, we’re cloaked, and they can’t see us. Two, some of them are cloaked, but we know they’re there. We need to use that.”
“Both of those are going to fizzle out as soon as we hit the atmosphere.”
“The first. Maybe not the second. Why give yourself away before you have to? We can use that, too.”
“How?”
“Here’s how we do it. Dak, get the Brimstone lined up to fire the last two torpedoes at the ass end of the first Nephilim ship. I’m marking it now.” Gant reached over and tapped the spot on the HUD. “That should take care of one of them.”
“And we’ll be out of torpedoes.”
“We’ll still have the lasers, but we won’t need them. The other ships won’t fire and risk hitting the ground, especially after what happened off Drune. They’ll send Shrikes in to harass and try to overwhelm the shields. When they do, the Devils will launch. Instead of going to the surface, they’re going to go up.”
“Up?” Phlenel said.
“The Shrikes will give chase. Take evasive action, make sure you get close to the cloaked ships.”
“I see what you’re thinking,” Benhil said. “It isn’t going to work. No offense to our pilots, but Shrikes versus Devils? Maybe if Bastion was behind the stick of one of them.”
“I have a full dataset of offensive and defensive techniques,” Ruby said.
“Great,” Benhil replied. “There’s a reason we still use living, breathing individuals to fly starfighters.”
“Because synths make you feel inferior.”
“No, because synths have no instinct.”
“It has been proven time and again that data is more valuable than instinct. The only reason humans pilot starfighters or participate in armed conflict is because of the amended Geneva Conventions.”
“That isn’t why,” Benhil insisted.
“I can prove this very easily.”
“Can we save this argument for later?” Gant said. “That’s the play. The cloaking system borrows power from the shields, meaning they can’t stay invisible and absorb the impact from the missiles we made. If we’re lucky, we can take out three of the cloaked ships before they know that we know they’re there.”
“If we’re not lucky?” Erlan asked.
“We die. We knew this was a shit mission before we got here, and the truth is shittier than we were expecting. We have to deal. Nothing changes on the ground. We free and arm the prisoners, and lead them in an assault on the surface. Worst case, we still take some of the ships offline. Every one we destroy is one less that Thraven can use.”
“Works for me,” Dak said. “I wasn’t planning on living very much longer, anyway.”
“I approve of this plan,” Phlenel said.
“Me, too,” Pik said. “I’m fragging excited about it.”
“Then let’s do this, Rejects,” Erlan said.
“Did you have to be the one to say that?” Benhil said.
“What do you mean?” Erlan asked.
<
br /> “I don’t know; you just sound so meek when you say it.”
“I do?”
“Let’s do this, Rejects,” Benhil repeated, mimicking Erlan. “What do you think?”
“I’ll have to practice,” Erlan agreed.
“Focus,” Gant said.
“I’m bringing us in,” Dak said. “Standby.”
39
Phlenel checked the status readings of the Devil one more time. Everything was nominal, the old starfighter running optimally. The Gant was an impressive individual. Not only had he done well in the confrontation with Sam, but he had also fixed the ships in such a short time, and now was leading them to what she hoped would be a victory.
‘She.’ Phlenel considered the word. Hurshin were not limited in their gender. They could be male or female or neither or both. The capability had been useful when exploring the experiences of pleasure that many of the other intelligent races shared, experiences that were unknown on Hurse and as a result vital to learn and share.
But what would her kind become once she spread that knowledge to them?
Sometimes she was concerned that they would wind up as obsessed with it as the Terrans seemed to be. She had seen how it drove them and controlled them, and she feared the same happening to her kind. Then again, she had no choice. The Code was clear. All knowledge was to be shared with the whole.
She dropped the thought. It was distracting her, too. She needed to focus. She had found she preferred being female when around Terrans. She wasn’t sure why. It simply was.
Distracted.
She checked the readings for the tenth time. Her thoughts were wandering while they waited. Was it because she was afraid she might die? She decided it was. She hadn’t been to Hurse in sixty years. She had so much to share with the others. To lose it would be sadness.
“This is Gant,” Gant said over the wide channel. “We’ve moved inside the defensive perimeter, and we’re entering the thermosphere now. Devils, be ready to launch on my mark.”
Phlenel increased the thrust on her Devil, letting the magnetic clamps hold it to the floor of the hangar. She knew Ruby and Castor would be doing the same.
She was fortunate. She had flown Devils when the now aging starships were new. They were more capable than many gave them credit for, though their maneuvering thrusters were a bit more sensitive and took more finesse than newer generations. She didn’t fear her ability to fly. She was more afraid of her team’s ability. She couldn’t survive out here on her own. If Thraven ever got his hands on her? Her form began to spread at the thought, and she had to pull herself back together.
“Roger,” her bot said.
She had removed the head from the rest of the machine so that she could use it to communicate with the others. It was mounted in the rear of the cockpit, directly behind her.
“Roger,” Castor said.
“Roger,” Ruby said.
She tightened her grip on the Devil’s controls. Her fingers had joined into a single tentacle that wrapped around it, offering her a much greater degree of control than a human hand.
“Mark,” Gant said.
She released the clamps. The Devil rocketed forward, skids sliding along the floor until she retracted them. Then she was out of the hangar and into space, angling the fighter back out towards orbit.
“This is Devil One,” she said. “Target Beta acquired. Vectoring into position.”
She could see the visible starships above them, suddenly active as the Brimstone became visible to them, uncloaking to fire its torpedoes and power its shields. The two missiles were streaks of light that converged on the rear of one of the warships, striking it and causing a massive flash as the energy defeated the shields and washed along the hull of the ship. It began to crumble a moment later.
“This is Devil Three,” Ruby said. “Target Delta acquired.”
“Devil Two,” Castor said. “Target Charlie acquired.”
“Target Alfa is destroyed,” Dak said. “Taking incoming laser fire. Shields are at one hundred percent and holding.”
“Launching the shuttle,” Erlan said. “Surface One is en route.”
“Remember,” Gant said. “Don’t make it obvious you’re going for a cloaked ship, or they may reveal themselves early. Wait for the Shrikes to chase you out.”
“Roger,” Ruby said.
“Roger,” she said.
She altered her vector, adjusting her path. A tone sounded in the cockpit.
“Here they come,” Castor said.
“Shrikes active,” Dak said. “Iann, target the battleships. Full plasma.”
“Aye, Commander,” Iann said.
A blast of energy launched from the Brimstone, spiking upward and into one of the battleships. It speared the un-augmented ship right in the center, the volume of energy packed in the superheated stream cutting it in half.
“Target destroyed,” Iann said.
“Don’t kill them too fast,” Gant said. “We can’t look like we’re winning until the Devils have done their dirty work.”
“Roger,” Dak said. “My apologies.”
Laser fire began to pour from ground installations, heading up and into the Brimstone, joining the assault from above. Phlenel jerked the Devil to the side as the first wave of Shrikes reached her, firing on her with projectiles that mostly went wide. The rest were deflected by the starfighter’s shields.
“I’ve been engaged,” she said. “Breaking for the target.”
She rolled the Devil over and hit the thrusters, keeping her movements chaotic as she jetted upward and away from the Shrikes. They stayed close on her aft, continuing to fire as she climbed toward the invisible warship.
“Shields at ninety-eight percent,” Dak said.
“Breaking for the target,” Ruby said.
“Break-”
Castor’s voice vanished. His positioning beacon went with it.
“Frag. It looks like Ruby wasn’t enough of an incentive,” Benhil said, noticing the loss.
“Devil One, Devil Three, it’s on you,” Gant said.
“Roger,” Phlenel replied. “I’m nearly Target Beta. Preparing to fire.”
“Once they know we can see one, the rest will uncloak,” Ruby said. “We need to fire at the same time.”
“Roger, altering course. Tell me when you are ready.”
Phlenel shifted the stick, winding up and back, slowing with the help of the forward vectoring thrusters. One of the Shrikes went past and she opened fire on it, shredding it with dense flechettes.
“Don’t keep me waiting forever, Devil Three,” she said.
“Standby,” Ruby replied.
“This is Surface One,” Gant said. “We’re ready to drop. Good luck up there.”
“Devil Three, I’m in position,” Ruby said a moment later. “Ready to fire on your mark.”
Phlenel readjusted course, the Devil’s frame struggling to handle her sudden inertial shift as her form softened to handle the force to it. She came about, splitting between two of the Shrikes and centering her targeting reticule on the area of the cloaked ship that Gant had singled out.
“Mark,” she said, an appendage growing from the tentacle and resting lightly on the trigger.
“Fire,” Ruby said.
Phlenel hit the trigger. The heavy ordnance launched from one of the wings, its rocket motor engaging and sending it streaking ahead. From her perspective, it appeared as though it was going to head out into deep space, as it crossed a dozen kilometers in a matter of seconds.
It disappeared for an instant as it entered the cloaking field. Then it detonated.
The warship became visible immediately, even as every suggestion that it had power vanished. The lights along it blinked out at once, a trail of debris pouring from the impact site. Phlenel turned the stick, adjusting course with another human-impossible maneuver, avoiding a streak of fire from one of the Shrikes.
“Target Beta disabled,” she announced.
“Target
Delta disabled,” Ruby said.
“Echo and Foxtrot are decloaking,” Dak said. “Now the real fun begins.”
40
Gant could hear every round that pinged off the shuttle as it made its descent into the center of the Nephilim compound. They followed one after another in rapid succession, sounding more like a heavy rain than gunfire, leaving him impressed that the ship was able to handle the abuse.
Then again, it was a Crescent Hauler vessel, meant to be able to stand up to brutal punishment, even though it was extremely unlikely that it would ever have to.
In this case, it had to.
“We’re one thousand meters up,” Erlan said. “Passing target data.”
Gant put his helmet on. It wasn’t a standard issue, but a quickly hacked resize of a human-scale model, one that sat over the weapons mount and left him with a big bubble over his smaller skull.
“You look like you’re in a fishbowl,” Benhil said, laughing.
“Shut up,” Gant replied.
He knew he did. Whatever. The targets on the ground were displayed on the HUD ahead of him as the linked TCUs synced the battlefield composition.
“Five hundred meters,” Erlan said.
Gant moved to the back of the shuttle with Pik, Benhil, and three grunts from Gall’s mercenaries: Rishu, Plax, and Qa. The last was a Curlatin, the sole remaining member of the ground team that had shot up Queenie on Drune, found hiding in one of the Brimstone’s crew quarters while they were on Machina Four. Gant hated him for both of those reasons.
“Weapons hot,” Gant said, shifting his mount and bringing the triggers into his hands.
He didn’t know why he had never thought to create something like this before. If he managed to survive all of this bullshit, he would have to patent the mount and get it out for sale. If the laser pistol he bought on Orunel was worth two-fifty, something like this should fetch close to five.
“One hundred meters,” Erlan said.
The hatch opened, revealing the ground below. They were only a few hundred meters away from an open compound, where prisoners were being held behind laser cordons that would cut them apart if they tried to walk out. There had to be close to a thousand of them in this pen, and the Brimstone’s data had indicated there were nine more just like it.
