by Crucible
Honeywell explained, referencing the telemetry, that the fleet was large, too spread out, and too close to the sun for Pegasus’s limited forces to carry out a successful attack on them.
“If they can hold position that close to the sun, their shield technology must be extremely advanced,” Alkema deduced. “I don’t know if we could get missiles through it. Maybe, if we can draw them out of the sun… but then, speed becomes an issue. Change, I think, knows what she’s talking about when she says we can’t beat their acceleration curve without a head start.”
Both Keeler and Alkema silently thought that if TyroCommander Redfire were there, he would pull some amazing tactical trick out of his underwear.
“How long to evacuate the planet and Keeler?” The Prime Commander asked.
Shayne American checked the status of the evacuation. “Landing Team Beta estimates ten minutes to dustoff. Landing Team Alpha…”
“Dustoff?” Keeler asked.
“Emergency evacuation. They’re leaving behind equipment and getting on Aves as fast as they can,” American explained. “Landing Team Alpha is unable to locate three crewmen. Three warfighters were on some sort of long patrol.”
Alkema suggested, “Tell Alpha Team to proceed with dustoff. We’ll task another Aves to locate the Warfighter Patrol and bring them home.”
“Do that,” Keeler said. “What about the teams aboard Keeler?”
“Loading on the four Aves in the Hangar Bay,” American answered. “But, TyroCommander Lear and four others are cut off in the Secondary Command Center.” The Surface
Morgan and the last three technicians left the Redoubt with as much as they could carry.
“Seal the blast doors,” he ordered.
“Does it matter?” asked Technician Superman.
“It does” Morgan told him. “Something of their civilization might survive until someone comes back… or until the sun burns out. It’s better than nothing.”
Lexington Keeler – SC-2
Beneath the electric blue and amber-gold glow of Lex’s Big Giant Head, Goneril Lear and Christmas each considered their next move. And the rest of them… Trajan Lear, Matthew Driver, Churchill, Sukhoi, Scout, and Fangboner… waited to see what the next act in the drama would be. Also, Driver and Trajan Lear resisted introducing Fangboner to Muffy because, frankly, that whole introduction was fraught with the worst kind of potential.
Christmas steadied his Pulse Weapons. “If you grant Lex access to the ship’s weapons systems, Lex will kill you all. I am already dead, and I have no concern for myself, but you may want to consider your own lives.”
“How can he be dead and still talking to us?” Sukhoi asked.
“It’s a long story,” Trajan Lear said.
The animated corpse of Lt. Christmas is mistaken. You puny humans must give my mighty intellect access to all of the ship’s Defensive Systems, or the alien fleet will destroy both of our ships.
“That alien fleet may not even exist,” Christmas told them. “All you have is the word of a psychotic ship’s intelligence.”
“Maybe we should take some time to figure this out,” Scout suggested.
There is not sufficient time to demonstrate the threat and the sincerity of my intentions, vis-à-vis, protecting you puny humans.
Lear’s, Churchill’s, and Sukhoi’s COM Links activated. “SC-2, This is Duke. Can you hear me, SC-2?”
Lear answered. “Executive TyroCommander Lear, go ahead Lt. Duke.”
“Pegasus has ordered complete evacuation of all teams,” Duke reported.
“Did Pegasus specify a reason?” Lear asked.
“They detected 300 alien attack ships in close orbit of the systems primary,” Duke told her.
“We’re holding the last Aves on a couple of crews that were deep in the systems when the alert came. We will evacuate the second they are secure on the Aves.”
“Lt. Duke, do you realize we’re cut-off?” Lear asked.
“Right, if you can get to the evacuation pods, Pegasus should be able to recover you.” Lear looked to her crew, to her son, to the big giant glowing head. “Thank you, Lt. Duke.
Clear the ship as soon as the last team is recovered.”
She turned to Scout. “Give the AI access to the ship’s defensive systems. Mr. Churchill, Mr.
Sukhoi, if Mr. Christmas attempts to interfere… kill him. Lex, you are to arm one missile, and one missile only, use the one missile to take out one alien ship. It should be enough to warn them off.”
Trajan Lear began to object, “Mom…”
“Don’t try to stop me, Trajan.”
“Not that, I was just going to remind you that killing Christmas isn’t exactly …” Several things happened very fast. Christmas tried to fire at the cybernetic nerve cluster, but Churchill fired at Christmas, deflecting his shot up and into the upper deck, and stunned him unconscious with his second and third shot.
In that same fraction of a second, Scout touched a panel. “Done.” Even though the direct data links between SC-2 and the missile hatcheries were shattered, Lex took less than a second to find a path to the Nemesis missiles, routing his commands through nearly a dozen other systems … including organic waste disposal and environmental balance. He soon located a number of missiles whose launch systems were sufficiently undamaged.
Downloading targeting.
Downloading detonation parameters.
Done.
“… a threat.” Trajan finished
Far down the line, sixteen Nemesis missiles were raised to the top of their launch pads. The hatches separated, and their ion-engines fired. They rose above the blasted dorsal hull of Lexington Keeler and roared toward Pegasus on the tips of white ion fire.
Pegasus – PC-1
American alerted Keeler. “Commander, sixteen Nemesis missiles have just launched from Keeler.”
“They’re coming right for us!” Alkema shouted.
The forward display showed the missiles flashing off the foredeck of Lexington Keeler. In less time than it takes to tell, they crossed the 80,000 kilometers between the ships, roared over Pegasus’s dorsal plane close enough to vibrate the entire ship with their engines, then sped toward the sun.
“What the Hell was that?” Keeler demanded.
Trajan leaped to Honeywell’s station and quickly worked out the missiles trajectory. “Keeler is attacking the enemy fleet,” Trajan reported.
Commander Keeler drummed the arm of his command chair nervously. “I thought you said an attack by Nemesis missiles wouldn’t work that close to the sun.”
“I did say that,” Alkema said.
“Were you wrong?” Keeler demanded.
Alkema didn’t have an answer for that, but he did know this: “If their attack fails, the enemy fleet is going to come after us with everything they have.”
Lexington Keeler – SC-2
Sixteen Nemesis missiles flew toward the sun.
The missiles approached the alien fleet.
The missiles flew past the alien fleet
Pegasus – PC-1
Keeler watched as Lexington Keeler’s Nemesis missiles flew past the alien fleet The Prime Commander waited a moment, and then asked in his most serious voice,
“Weren’t those supposed to explode, or something?”
Lexington Keeler – SC-2
“I can’t believe you missed!” Scout shouted.
Goneril Lear stared, glassy eyed, at the telemetry showing the Nemesis missiles had clearly overshot the alien fleet.
“Lex,” Christmas demanded. “What did you do?”
Wait.
The Sun
Sixteen Nemesis missiles went into a close orbit around the sun.
The protective hatches exploded outward and ten warheads flew out from each carrier. The missile carriers then locked onto the capital ships in the alien fleet and prepared to ram them head on. This maneuver was mainly for show, to keep the aliens occupied as the warheads moved into position, close to sun, ju
st above some particularly unstable cells on the sun’s surface.
One hundred and sixty warheads detonated at maximum yield, disrupting the delicate balance of gravity and thermonuclear fire that kept the star lit up. Uncountable trillions of tons of stellar material exploded outward.
The alien ships were caught in the maelstrom of light and energy. It was too much for their shields. They flamed and burned up like origami cranes tossed into a bonfire.
Lexington Keeler – SC-2
Lex’s sphere changed into a representation of the sun.
This system’s primary is highly unstable. I calculated that a precise Nemesis detonation would result in a massive expulsion of stellar material, destroying the Armada in the process.
His sphere representing the sum exploded, taking out the enemy fleet.
“What about us?” Scout demanded.
I am maneuvering us into the cavity created by the devastation of the planet’s larger moon. It will shelter us from the stellar discharge.
“What about Pegasus and the teams on the surface of the planet?” Fangboner asked.
You should advise them to take shelter as well. Their ship may not survive the solar flares.
Pegasus – PC-1
On the holographic display in Pegasus’s primary command center, a massive solar flare spewed like a wild flamethrower across the orbital plane of the sun’s five planets. “Mr.
Alkema,” Keeler asked. “Is the sun exploding?”
“The sun began exploding about four minutes ago,” Alkema answered.
“Are we going to get burned?” Keeler asked. “Because I had dinner plans.” Alkema took the tactical controls. “I’m diverting maximum power to the shields. That should be enough.”
Change took over helm control. “We can’t risk a shield failure. We need to get this ship to shelter.”
“Shelter where?” Keeler asked.
Change displayed her course. She was aiming Pegasus into the giant crack that had split the hemispheres of the planet’s larger moon. The gap was large, hundreds of kilometers across, but it was filled with debris ranging from dust to mountain-sized.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Keeler asked.
“No, but it’s the only way,” Change informed them. “The solar flares could last for days …
or longer. If we had a cascade shield failure…”
“She’s right, captain,” Alkema said.
“Would that be worse than the ship getting crushed between the two halves of a giant moon?” Keeler asked. “Or, smashed by a giant rock?”
“We’ll be fine,” Alkema assured him. Then, he turned to Change. “Won’t we?” The moon was looming larger in the forward navigational view. “I am plotting a course into the largest space in the gap. Our phalanx guns should be able to smash any rock large enough to do damage.”
American picked up the order. “There’s one Aves left on the planet and three en route back to the ship, plus Ginger. I’ll transmit new rendezvous coordinates behind the moon.” The Surface
Six minutes, five seconds after the sun began to explode, Magnus Morgan was boarding the Aves George, the last man from his landing team to evacuate the Redoubt. He noticed the sudden abrupt change as the day grew several times brighter, as though a giant searchlight had been turned on the planet. The sky bleached white, and every shadow vanished.
Morgan looked up at the sky and scowled. “They blew up the sun. I always thought they might do that at some point.”
He closed the hatch and put himself into the ship. There was a young, dark haired man at one of the Sensor Telemetry stations. Morgan looked over his shoulder at the display of the sun, from which streamers of energy were breaking free. “How long until the flares hit the atmosphere?”
“Twenty-one minutes, eighteen seconds,” the Science Specialist answered. “We’re supposed to rendezvous with Pegasus behind the moon before then.” Morgan nearly lost his balance as George accelerated upward. Maximum velocity was the only way to reach shelter behind the moon in time. He looked toward the projection of the poor, unlucky planet. It really didn’t deserve all of this.
“When those flares hit the atmosphere,” Morgan narrated. “Every last trace of human settlement will be erased from the surface of this planet.” He gestured toward the mid-deck, where some crates and containers were stacked. “The only memory of the civilization that existed here will be in those crates, and the ones in the cargo hold.” He noted a blip on the Telemetry Display. He reached over and touched it. An information blip popped up, identifying it as the Aves James. “Why is that ship returning to the surface?” Morgan asked.
“Three warfighters are still on the planet,” the Science Specialist explained. “James is going to rescue them.”
Morgan looked at the flare display. In nineteen minutes, 58 seconds, the atmosphere of the planet was going to be a giant blast furnace.
The Surface
Jordan, Taurus, and Rook were racing toward the Redoubt, praying to whatever gods had not yet forsaken this planet that the enemy didn’t have air support. Behind them was an angry alien army, which was speeding across the desert much faster than they were.
“Jordan, go faster!” Taurus ordered.
“This is as fast it gets,” Jordan shouted back. He was piloting the Razorback through an obstacle course of scrub brush and boulders. Johnny Rook rode the gun.
Suddenly, a shape broke loose from the pursuing horde and began rapidly gaining on them. It was a blur against the scrubby landscape, and Rook struggled to get a lock on it with the pulse gun. When he finally did, the target trace was green, indicating a friendly.
He looked up from the gun to see a Trauma Hound rapidly running down the Razorback.
Taurus saw it, too. She stood and called out. “Spot, over here boy! Spot!” The mechanical dog ran furiously until it was beside the Razorback, then jumped onto the gun deck with Rook. Taurus hugged it around its shining mechanical neck. “I thought we’d lost you boy.”
“Never mistress,” Spot promised. “I also think I might have thinned the herd back there for you.”
“Is it just me, or did it suddenly get a lot brighter?” Johnny Rook asked.
The dim sky had suddenly grown to a near-blinding brightness. At that moment, a raging stormfront of burning white and yellow clouds appeared on the horizon.
“Solar flare,” Max Jordan yelled.
“You don’t have to yell, my COM Link works,” Rook yelled back. “Just get us back to the Redoubt before those flares hit.
Taurus adjusted the gain on her COM Link. “Pegasus, repeat again, last message was garbled.” A few seconds later, she repeated the same thing.
“What’s going on?” Rook asked her.
“The Redoubt’s already evacuated. We’re supposed to rendezvous with an Aves for dustoff, but the coordinates keep getting garbled.”
“So, what do I do?” Max Jordan asked.
“Keep making for the Redoubt,” Taurus ordered. But if she had looked behind her, she would have seen her rendezvous coming to meet her. A black shadow, like an eagle seen at a great height, dropped from burning sky behind them.
With a swoosh and a roar, the Aves James came down, and matched their course and speed.
“Warfighter team, this is Aves James. Um, you might want to leave the planet now.” Taurus answered, “James, we can’t stop to board. The enemy is right behind us.”
“That’s okay, we can’t land,” Flight Captain James said through his COM Link. “I’m opening the bottom hatch. You’ll have to jump it.”
The ship flew in front of them, then slowed again to their pace. Fiery dust-devils were rising into the sky all around them as the heat in the atmosphere rose to furnace levels. James’s lower hatch opened. The was a figure there, a warfighter clad in tactical orange rescue gear. He gestured for them to come on-board.
Taurus undid her harness. “C’mon, you ground monsters. This is the last ride off the planet.” She climbed to the side of th
e Razorback. The Aves moved forward. Then, Max had to swerve to miss a pile of rock and plant life and almost tossed her from the car. The ship repositioned itself. Taurus regained her standing and leaped on board. Spot followed her, making the leap easily and naturally.
“You’re next, Jordan,” Rook ordered. “I’ll cover you.”
“I’m gonna miss this ride,” said Max Jordan as he engaged the auto-drive. He released his safety harness. As Johnny Rook remained at the pulse cannon to cover him, Max Jordan climbed to the top of the Road Warrior’s roll-bar. James held steady as a rock, its positioning thrusters shooting jets of hot gas into the air. Jordan jumped. Assisted by his tactical landing-suits strength augmentation, he leaped the space easily, landing hard on the ramp before Taurus grabbed and pulled him into the ship.
When he was on board, she turned to her last man. “Move it, Rook.” As Rook made ready to climb onto the roll bar, a pair of other vehicles suddenly came roaring over the hills. They ran on high, steel wheels supplemented with four long steel legs that enabled them to jump over the landscape like cheetahs. They moved very, very fast, and in a flash, they were within range to begin shooting at Johnny Rook.
“Well, this is just great,” he muttered, grabbing the pulse cannon’s firing controls.
“Rook, there’s no time,” Taurus yelled.
But there was time. Rook simply extended his perception of time, stretching the seconds until the projectiles the aliens were firing at him were making slow, leisurely trajectories toward him that he could easily dodge. He swung the gun around, and shot long pulses of blue-white plasma at them. Some of the bolts missed, but some of the bolts met their mark. The alien landcraft burst with yellow-pink explosions.
And the next elongated moment etched itself into Rook’s memory. The sky simply began to burn, as the air itself burst into flame. In front of it, a ship, the blazing light burnishing its wingblades copper-red. And a woman, gesturing desperately for him to come aboard.
A much shorter second later, the hatch closed beneath him, and he felt the ship’s extreme acceleration as Flight Captain James punched the thrusters to max. The ship roared into space, leaving the planet below embroiled in flame and whirlwinds.
