Recker's Chance

by Anthony James

  “I feel like I have to do something, sir. In the same way Lieutenant Eastwood wants his status lights.”

  Recker didn’t say anything more and he tapped a few buttons on his control panel, if only to keep himself occupied. His anger had already declined to a simmer, and his mind hadn’t given up. In the furthest recesses, where ideas could form without the distraction of conscious thought, his brain turned over every variable, examining them for possibilities. So far, viable plans were non-existent.

  “It doesn’t seem as if those lightspeed missiles are going to save us,” said Aston.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Recker conceded. He cleared his throat. “When the end comes, I want you all to know I couldn’t have wished for a better crew. More than that, I couldn’t have wished for better people.”

  “It’s been a good ride,” said Eastwood. “But I’m damned if I’m accepting defeat. This isn’t the end of the road.”

  “No way,” said Larson.

  “Write down your plans for getting us out of this and I’ll draw one from a hat,” said Recker.

  “You could try the dead captain’s finger like I asked you before, sir,” offered Aston. “That’s such a guaranteed way to rescind the shutdown code I don’t even need to put it into the hat.”

  For some reason Recker couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “You bite the finger off and I’ll place it on the security interface.”

  His smile faded quickly and nobody offered a plan. Not that he’d expected anything different – this was one of those end of the road moments. He’d escaped from other such moments before, yet this one had a finality about it – a certainty that no amount of thinking or talking could alter.

  At this, the moment of Recker’s failure, he felt no despair, only a yearning to have done more. Another faraway booming of plasma warheads, louder than all the others, created a vibration in the control bars which he felt in his palms through the absorbent layers in his suit gauntlets.

  I promised Lera-Vel I’d see her again.

  Recker was given his chance.

  The frozen menus on his command console unlocked before his eyes and his hands darted out to the control panel.

  “I can access the software!” Recker said.

  “Sensors coming online!” yelled Burner.

  “I have a Daklan called Lera-Vel on the comms, sir,” said Larson. “She tells me she brought the Ixidar back online and she wishes us good hunting.”

  “The shutdown code was rescinded by the Ixidar, sir!” said Eastwood. “Our propulsion is coming online and the energy shield generator should activate at any moment!”

  “Battle stations!” shouted Recker. “Lieutenant Larson, pass on our thanks to Lera-Vel.” He tested the controls and they responded, albeit sluggishly. A few gauges and readouts were emerging from slumber and they hadn’t yet settled.

  “Shield online,” said Eastwood. “It dumped its reserves during the shutdown, so it’s filling from zero.”

  “Sensors up!” said Burner. “We have lost most of the forward arrays and some on the starboard flank. Searching for targets.”

  “Commander Aston – as soon as you obtain a lock light, blow the crap out of those bastards.”

  A grin appeared on her face to go alongside the look of disbelief. “Hell yes!” She entered a command into her console. “Missile control systems online and available.”

  The first target appeared on the tactical. It was a battleship, ten thousand kilometres directly ahead of the Gorgadar and travelling at the same velocity. Specks of white light appeared on its hull to indicate a missile launch, and those warheads detonated almost at once. This time, they struck energy shield instead of hull plating and the reserve gauge dropped straight to zero before increasing to one percent, then two.

  “Forward tubes one though eight and twelve through fifteen: launched,” said Aston. “Uppers one though six: launched. Failure lights on the others. Shit – and an amber light on the particle beam.”

  “Will it fire?”

  “It might, but there’s not enough power for it yet.”

  Recker didn’t have time to consider the ramifications of the particle beam’s potential hardware failure. His eyes jumped to the tactical, where three additional red dots had appeared as Burner, Larson and the warship’s own battle computer identified and locked onto targets.

  “Four is the total, sir,” said Burner. “All of them battleships.”

  “Engine mode 3 will not be available for a minute or two, sir,” said Eastwood. “We’ll have to face these enemy ships head-on.”

  “With pleasure,” said Recker.

  Too late, the enemy crews realised the danger. The first battleship erupted into plasma flames at the same moment as Aston targeted another.

  “Locked onto target #2. Range: twenty thousand klicks,” she intoned. “Portside clusters one through fifteen: launched. Underside clusters one through fifteen: launched. Locked onto target #3. Range, eighteen thousand klicks. Starboard clusters one though seven and nine through twelve: launched. Undersides one through five: launched.”

  Had the Gorgadar’s shield been at maximum, the Lavorix battleships would have been distinctly lacking in penetrative firepower. As it was, their inbound salvos were enough to keep the reserve levels depleted. The energy shield flickered in and out, blocking many warheads, while others broke through and exploded against the Gorgadar’s hull.

  “Target #2 destroyed,” said Aston.

  Recker didn’t spare the fiery ball of plasma on the bulkhead screen anything more than a glance. He was too busy figuring out where the launch clusters had failed, so that he could bring the already-loaded missile tubes to bear against the Lavorix.

  “Shield at zero percent,” said Eastwood. “Multiple gauss impacts against our nose plating – or whatever’s left of it.”

  The shield gauge increased to one percent and was instantly returned to zero by a few dozen enemy missile detonations.

  “Target #3 out of action,” said Aston.

  Recker’s gaze went to the tactical, just as the fourth Lavorix battleship disappeared from the screen. “They activated mode 3,” he said.

  “Must have gone back to Terrani,” said Eastwood.

  The third battleship had been crippled by the Gorgadar’s missiles, but it wasn’t destroyed. It decelerated sharply, rapidly falling behind. Unfortunately for the Lavorix, this only exposed them to the Gorgadar’s loaded rear missile tubes.

  “Rear missile clusters one through fifteen: launched,” said Aston with an unusual edge of nastiness in her voice.

  Pinpricks of orange propulsions appeared on the rear feeds and then they were gone into the distance.

  “Target #3 destroyed.”

  Recker reduced the Gorgadar’s velocity and banked hard, so the portside flank with its largely operational sensor arrays were aimed directly towards Terrani.

  “Scan quickly!” Recker ordered. “I need a damage report! And when will mode 3 become available?”

  “The energy shield has priority, sir,” said Eastwood. “There’ll be no mode 3 until it’s at fifty percent.”

  “I’m scanning Terrani for the Ruklior and the rest of the enemy fleet,” said Burner. “We should be back on the local battle network soon.”

  “We’ve lost approximately twenty-five percent of our launch clusters, sir,” said Aston. “Most of them on the nose and starboard forward flank.”

  “What about the other weapons systems?”

  “No reported errors, sir, except for the amber on the particle beam. The status report indicates it’ll still fire.”

  “We took a pounding while we were shut down,” said Eastwood. “I’ve got errors on several ternium blocks and our total output is down fifteen percent.”

  “Anything you can do to recover it?”

  “I don’t think it would be wise to try, sir.”

  “I trust your judgement, Lieutenant. Don’t touch those engine blocks.”

  “Here’s what we’re f
acing at Terrani, sir,” said Burner.

  “The Ruklior and every warship it was carrying,” said Recker, staring at the clustered grey specks on one of the feeds. Here and there, he spotted flashes of light which appeared tiny at this distance, but which he knew were nothing of the sort. The Daklan fleet had engaged with the Lavorix and, given the disparity in numbers and capabilities, Recker was shocked the fight was still ongoing.

  Maybe it only just started, he thought. Perhaps the Lavorix were delayed chasing the Gorgadar for just long enough that we’ve got a chance to turn this around for the Daklan.

  “I need mode 3, Lieutenant Eastwood,” said Recker. He set the Gorgadar on course for the planet and the warship’s velocity gauge climbed strongly.

  “You’re slowing down the energy shield recharge and delaying the mode 3, sir,” Eastwood said. “When the propulsion is at maximum, there’s nothing left for elsewhere.”

  “If we switch into superstress again that’ll speed everything up, won’t it?”

  “I don’t know, sir.” Eastwood took a noisy breath. “I wasn’t going to tell you until I was sure, but do you remember how I showed you that some of the ternium blocks keep the superstressed ones from going critical?”

  “I remember.”

  “We lost some of those stabilisers in the Lavorix attack, sir. We might not have enough remaining.”

  “Stabiliser and destabiliser,” said Recker. “What the hell have the enemy created here?”

  It was a rhetorical question and even Lieutenant Eastwood didn’t speculate.

  “We owe the Daklan,” said Recker. “If we wait, they’ll lose the planet. We might already be too late.” In his mind, he imagined the effect of an Extractor attack on the billions of people living on Terrani. “Lieutenant Eastwood, switch the propulsion into superstress.”

  Eastwood didn’t hesitate. “You got it, sir.”

  The thundering bass of the engine changed immediately superstress was activated and this time it no longer sounded like the respiration of a dying man. This time, it sounded deeper and infinitely more powerful.

  Now it’s like the breath of a sleeping god – one that can never be roused, but with power that can be tapped and utilised.

  “Sir, the stable blocks are no longer enough,” said Eastwood. “The readouts are totally screwed up – I don’t know what’s happening.”

  The words made Recker fear what he might have unleashed. Having opened the gates to hell or salvation, it wasn’t time to turn back and he prepared himself for what was to come.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “The shield is recharging at about four times its previous rate, sir,” said Eastwood. “The generator module wasn’t designed to cope with such a high influx.”

  “I want to hear about the mode 3, Lieutenant.”

  “You’ll have it available any second now, sir.”

  “Commander Aston, what of our weapons?”

  “Two green lights on the Extractor, sir, and nothing on the decay pulse or the destabiliser.”

  “Set the Extractor to its widest arc. This time the Ruklior’s shutdown code won’t stop us.”

  “The Lavorix might destroy the Ixidar, sir,” said Eastwood. “If they’re clever enough to realise what happened.”

  “Then let’s hope the enemy aren’t clever.” Recker didn’t take his eyes from the tactical. The Gorgadar was back on the battle network with the Daklan and that gave him an accurate picture of events at Terrani. His eyes searched for patterns amongst the duelling warships.

  “Mode 3 is available, sir,” said Eastwood.

  “Let’s test it out.” Recker’s hand went to the tactical and he touched a fingertip to his intended destination. “Activating mode 3,” he said.

  For once, Recker hardly noticed the in-out thump of transition, so focused was he on the enemy fleet. Having emerged from lightspeed, he held the Gorgadar stationary and readied himself for the sensors coming online.

  “Sensors coming up,” said Larson.

  “No impacts against the energy shield,” said Eastwood. “Not yet.”

  A rush of data threatened to flood Recker’s senses. The Gorgadar had emerged from lightspeed on the edge of the Lavorix fleet, half a million kilometres above Terrani. A glance was enough for Recker to spot the Hakarul base, around the planet’s curve, yet sharply visible. So far, the Lavorix had made no significant attack on the ground facilities.

  “The lightspeed transit did not affect the propulsion state,” said Eastwood. “We’re still in superstress.”

  “I have two green lights on the Extractor, sir,” said Aston.

  “Choose well, Commander.”

  The enemy fleet was neither clustered, nor spread, and they occupied a rough sphere with an approximate diameter of sixty thousand kilometres. At the centre, the Ruklior travelled the same slow but erratic course that would keep it protected from lightspeed missiles. Evasive manoeuvres weren’t enough to protect it from conventional warheads and plasma wreathed much of the enemy vessel’s energy shield. Recker doubted the incoming fire was enough to trouble the Lavorix too much.

  Fifty thousand kilometres from Terrani, the Daklan fleet showed no signs they intended to engage in a dogfight. The two sides exchanged missiles in enormous quantities and Recker saw that the planet’s thousands of ground interceptor batteries were doing an effective job of pulverising the incoming Lavorix warheads. Those batteries were all that was keeping the local fleet from rapid destruction.

  “We’ve received a shutdown code,” said Eastwood. “The Ixidar has rescinded it.”

  “The Ruklior’s crew knows we’re here,” said Recker. A warning light appeared on his console and he bared his teeth at the accompanying text. “They’re equipped with a Halo and they’re charging it up.”

  The Hexidine – another of the Laws of Ancidium – had also been fitted with a Halo, and the weapon had been entirely effective in shutting down the Aeklu. Recker didn’t want to lose the Gorgadar in the same way.

  “Hit them with the Extractor,” said Recker.

  “Extractor activated,” said Aston. “The cone of effect is overlaid on the tactical.”

  The weapon’s arc was narrow, but it grew with distance. Recker estimated that Aston had caught thirty of the Lavorix warships in the effect cone, including the Ruklior.

  “Activating mode 3,” said Recker, selecting a new destination and pressing the button on the controls.

  Another in-out transit took the Gorgadar to a place approximately centre of the Lavorix fleet. The sensors came online and the tactical indicated that several hundred missiles were already inbound.

  “Fire the particle beam, Commander. Aim for the Ruklior.”

  Recker wasn’t sure if the enemy command ship had been disabled by the Extractor and it seemed sensible to take no chances.

  “Particle beam targeted. Fired,” said Aston.

  The thick beam of blue stabbed across the intervening thirty thousand kilometres. Ignoring the Ruklior’s shield, the attack skewered the enemy vessel a third of the way back from its nose and a third of the way from its topside armour.

  “Hopefully, I took out the bridge,” said Aston.

  “Halo charging again, sir,” said Eastwood.

  Recker swore at the news. The particle beam required twenty seconds between shots and it wouldn’t be ready before the Halo discharge. He spotted something from the corner of one eye – the Gorgadar’s batteries had climbed to twenty-five percent. One or more of the thirty Lavorix warships hit by the Extractor must have been packed to the ceilings with troops – either that or the Ruklior’s personnel had all been killed and the warship’s battle computer was now running the show.

  “The decay pulse,” said Recker.

  “It’s available!” said Aston. “One green light and one amber.”

  “Activate the weapon,” said Recker. “Quickly!”

  “There’s no targeting option – it must be an area weapon,” said Aston. “Decay pulse activated.”<
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  The lights on the bridge dimmed, though not because their power supply was interrupted. Rather, it was as if the decay pulse itself was suppressing the illumination in a way which added to the ever-present miasma of the death sphere. Recker felt a force tugging violently at his body, as though the weapon was designed to rip his soul from his body and channel his essence into a magnification of its effectiveness.

  A split second after Aston had pressed the button to fire the decay pulse, a visible ripple swept out from the Gorgadar, like a wave across the fabric of reality. Travelling at incredible speed, the decay pulse struck the closest Lavorix warships and continued onwards.

  At the same time, a fountain of shredded armour and razor shards of much darker ternium - totalling millions and millions of tons - erupted from beneath the Gorgadar, about ten thousand metres back from the nose. Red lights appeared on Recker’s console.

  A damaged warship was nothing new to him and he dragged his attention to the other feeds. The discharge of the decay pulse was not positive for the enemy fleet. One of the closest battleships began to crumble, huge pieces of it breaking away and then bursting into powder as if the bonds between the atoms hadn’t simply been severed, but savagely ruptured, using their own energy against them.

  Recker’s eyes shot to a different feed and on this one, a different battleship had already split into three sections, then six, then twenty. In moments it was little more than a dispersing cloud, travelling at the velocity of the vessel it had once been.

  “They’re breaking up, sir,” said Burner, his expression one of disbelief. “All of them.”

  “Like the Fracture,” said Aston. “Only this seems a whole lot worse.”

  “Some of those warships were fifty thousand kilometres away…” Recker started. He bit his tongue. “What about the Ruklior?”

  The Ruklior was not gone. Either its energy shield or the strength of its design had been enough to protect it from disintegration, though the huge warship was not in a good way. Its outer plating had been unevenly stripped, changing its shape to something indistinct and revealing the ternium modules beneath.