Something wasn’t going well, though.
“Damn!” he whispered.
“What is it?” Tassos whispered back.
“The transfer is too slow. The data won’t make it in time.”
Tassos looked around before answering. “What are we going to do?”
An idea struck Spiros. It was risky, but they didn’t have much choice.
“I’m going to use my brain implant to cache the data.”
“Isn’t the network bandwidth throughput the same whether you send it to the Phoenix or your implant?”
“Not if I over-clock my implant.”
“Isn’t that dangerous? Doesn’t over-clocking generate more heat?”
Now it was Spiros who looked around, but the soldiers weren’t paying attention to their conversation. “It does, but I don’t think we have a choice.”
The station was hit once more and rocked heavily, but this time only a couple of them fell to the floor. Spiros was near the wall of the corridor and used it to keep his balance. Tassos did the same.
“This is all well and good, but it won’t matter if we get incinerated before we reach the Phoenix.”
“Tassos, I designed the shields of this station. Even though the fleet outside is large, I’m pretty sure the shields will hold as long as they need to.”
“I sure hope you’re right.”
6
“Status report!” screamed Leonidis.
“Our weapons are not making a dent on their shields, Commander,” answered Lieutenant Commander Maniatis.
“Can we boost their power output?”
“I’ve already redirected half the power from life support and hydroponics to the weapons. Still not enough.”
“Squeeze every bit of juice you can spare. Boost the output of these guns past their limit by ten percent. They should hold.”
“This is risky, Commander. If we overload the generators, the station could blow up.”
“And if we do nothing, we’re dead anyway. Do as I say.”
“Understood.”
Whatever Spiros Malayianis had built would hold even if pushed beyond safe limits. At least for the time needed to make sure he left on the Phoenix. Then it wouldn’t matter. There was no way they would win this battle.
A full salvo of enemy torpedoes rocked Damocles-3, and a couple of officers were thrown from their station. Sparks flew from a console near Leonidis’ command chair.
The main lighting in the command center turned off and was replaced by the secondary power reserve, casting a low-light red hue.
“How many reserve Manticore fighters do we hold?”
“Only a couple dozen fighters, Commander. They won’t make the slightest difference out there.”
“Still, that would give the enemy something else to shoot at and could save us precious seconds. Have the reserve pilots board their fighters at once and launch on the double.”
Leonidis’ second-in-command sent him a sharp look, but then he nodded, even though he obviously didn’t like that order. The commander knew he was sending these people to their deaths, but be it inside the station or outside, there was a good chance everyone would die today. As long as Spiros Malayianis survived, that was all that mattered.
While the military fabric of his personality had taken over, the human part of him didn’t believe that. In truth, he wanted nothing more than to hold his wife and son in his arms. But that was a fantasy, and the harsh reality was knocking on their shields relentlessly.
“Can we use the tractor beams?”
“What for, sir?”
“On one of these ships.”
“What good will that do, Commander?”
“Let me worry about that. I’m painting the target. On its next pass, deploy the tractor beams. Have tubes ten to thirty-six loaded with the prototype scatter torpedoes.”
“I thought they weren’t ready for deployment.”
Leonidis wasn’t happy that his first officer was questioning his orders, but he couldn’t blame him. He was, after all, proposing ludicrous ideas in a time of crisis. But using desperate and crazy tactics had a better chance at causing some damage than their current by-the-book strategy.
The scatter torpedoes Spiros had been working on had only worked half the time during tests. They were a wide-spread, multi-part weapon that split into six different smaller explosive charges loaded with quadrinium-enhanced spherical flak. In theory, they should cause way more damage against any known shield.
Since they were quadrinium-enhanced, impact with shields would make these smaller objects explode, thus generating an even bigger energy drain. During weapons testing, many of the torpedoes failed to release their payload. But even if some of them acted this way, they would still inflict more damage than standard ordnance. Or at least that was the gamble Leonidis was willing to make.
Still, Leonidis didn’t want to reprimand Michalis in front of the crew, so he erected the comms privacy option Spiros had installed a couple of months back. It informed both parties of the call that an invisible force field had been cast around their station, preventing sound from escaping beyond a two-yard diameter.
Leonidis saw the icon flash on his holo-console, confirming that they were in private mode. His first officer cast a questioning glance at him.
“Look, Michalis, I understand some of my orders don’t seem to make much sense, but please trust me and execute them, nonetheless. Can I count on you?”
“You’re the commander. That goes without saying.”
“And yet you’ve given me resistance at every turn.”
“I’m sorry, Theo, I just don’t understand your tactics. They’re so far outside the rulebook; I felt I would be remiss as your first officer to not at least voice my concerns.”
“Look, I trust you implicitly, and there’s no one I’d rather have by my side in this battle. But, let’s not get our hopes up. It’s way more likely that we will perish today, no matter what we do. I’m just trying to give Spiros a fighting chance to escape. His mind may be the key to developing new weapons to beat our enemy.”
“Even if I’m willing to accept that, and I’m not saying I do—at least not fully—what can he do? If everyone in the Alliance falls today, who will he build these weapons for and how will he use them to strike back at our enemies?”
“I wish I had the answers. We have to leave that in the hands of fate. But the Star Alliance has some of the best captains and admirals I’ve ever served with. I have to believe some of them will survive and strike back at our enemy, perhaps even come and rescue us. And with Spiros on their side—”
“Say no more. I don’t know if we’ll get another chance, so while it’s just the two of us talking, I’ll say it’s been an honor serving by your side.”
“Thank you. It’s been an honor, as well. May the gods of Olympus light our way.”
The lieutenant commander glanced at Leonidis and gave him a timid smile.
“You know me and legends, sir. I’m not really the praying type. But in this case, I truly hope they just heard you loud and clear.”
7
Spiros was becoming lightheaded. The extra heat generated by over-clocking his brain implant was interfering with his focus. His sight was blurred, and black spots flashed in front of his eyes.
A warning message flashed on his implant HUD. “Overheating reaching dangerous levels. Recommend immediate shutdown of the implant to avoid permanent brain damage.”
Hell no! Not now.
Spiros selected the admin override and kept his over-clock running.
“Are you alright?” asked Tassos when he noticed Spiros slowing down.
“I . . . I don’t know, but I can’t stop now.”
“If your gear overloads, you’ll lose your transfer. Perhaps you should dial it down, at least a little.”
Tassos was right, but time was of the essence. He dialed his twenty-percent over-clock back to fifteen percent, and his vision improved slightly.
The
data transfer slowed down proportionally, but Spiros estimated it would still be completed by the time they boarded the Phoenix. His heart rate elevated, and he felt his blood rapidly moving through his body.
Something exploded in front of them and Spiros, Tassos and the soldiers were thrown back. The corridor was exposed to space, and they were sucked toward the large hole. Three of the soldiers leading the way were incinerated in the explosion while another two were sucked into space before the station’s automated systems erected an emergency force field.
The moment the field activated, everyone felt the grasp of the artificial gravity and crashed back to the floor. Spiros’ head pounded, and the nearby fire spiraled him rapidly into overdrive. He tried getting back on his feet but everything around him spun out of control, and he fell back to the floor.
“Spiros!” shouted Tassos, crawling next to his friend.
“Heat . . . too much heat,” said Spiros before his eyes turned white, and he lost consciousness.
“Major!” shouted Tassos. “Have your men put out the fire, immediately. I need two of them to help me take Spiros over there.” He pointed toward an air vent above them.
The major was barely on his feet. He held part of his face that had been burned in the explosion. Blood ran through his fingers.
“Major!”
“I heard you.”
The major ordered his men to take care of the fire and assigned two of them to take Spiros to the air vent.
Tassos ran toward the nearest wall console and entered a flurry of commands, his instinct taking over as the adrenaline flooded his system.
The command center had redirected power from life support, and he had to hack into this sector’s ventilation controls to bring enough power to crank up the air conditioning past its maximum setting.
When the pair of soldiers reached the air vent, Tassos instructed them to open the vent and hold Spiros’ head inside it. They gave him a dubious look.
“Don’t try to understand what I’m telling you, just do it!”
They proceeded as instructed. Tassos diverted a small part of his holo-pad’s CPU from outside sensor-monitoring to scanning Spiros’ brain and implant temperatures. The readout was alarming, but soon after they had delicately positioned Spiros’ head inside the vent, the temps lowered quickly.
Tassos hoped it wasn’t too late. He checked for wireless signals with his pad. The transfer of data had continued despite Spiros’ loss of consciousness.
Another Zarlack destroyer passed by awfully close, making the area they were in tremble for a couple of seconds. Tassos caught a glimpse of the massive ship as it roared past.
He had never seen a starship this big; it froze his blood and sent a cascade of shivers down his spine. Fear engulfed him and filled his thoughts with darkness.
We’re not gonna get out of here alive.
8
“Status on the Phoenix? Where are Spiros and his escort?” asked Leonidis.
“They’re on their way, but they’ve had to reroute because of the structural damage on deck six.
Dammit!
This was not the news he had been waiting for. But Leonidis knew Major Sotis well; he would do everything to achieve his primary objective, even if he had to deliver Spiros to the Phoenix breathing his last breath. Now it was up to him to buy them that extra time they needed.
“Open a channel to the pilots,” said Leonidis.
“Channel opened, Commander.”
“This is your commander speaking to all pilots outside the station. Listen to me carefully. I need you to boost your shields to the maximum. Divert power from all other systems except minimum life support. Don’t bother firing on these ships. Your laser cannons won’t make the slightest difference. This power will be better used to protect your fighters against incoming fire.
“Stay as evasive as possible. Divert as much enemy fire away from the station as you can. I’m not going to lie to you: I don’t expect any of us to survive this day. But I’m asking your help to provide cover for the Phoenix to escape. The man behind the research on Damocles-3 is the Star Alliance’s best hope for developing effective defenses and weaponry against our enemies.
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but we’re soldiers, and we have sworn an oath to defend and protect the Star Alliance with our lives. Today, we may very well lose this battle, but our sacrifice could ensure the Star Alliance’s survival in the long run.”
“This is reserve Wing Commander Tsanbouris. We understand what’s asked of us. I won’t lie to you. Right now, I wish we could just pack up and run, but that’s obviously not an option anymore. Even if we wanted to, we’d never make it past that armada.”
“Thank you, Wing Commander. We’re trying to get the shields of one of these ships down, but we may require some of you to ram the ships when they fall. Should this work, I’d need you to repeat the maneuver on the next targets.”
There was a long and heavy silence. Everyone on the bridge was shocked. Fear permeated the atmosphere and hung there like a messenger of doom.
“Understood. We won’t let you down, sir. Tsanbouris out.”
Leonidis felt a wave of guilt at having had to utter such horrible orders. No matter how much he tried convincing himself that they were doing the right thing, he felt helpless.
“The second our fighters are in range, fire all three tractor beams toward the designated destroyer,” said Leonidis.
“Aye, aye, sir,” answered the ensign in charge of the tractor beams.
“Manticore Wing will be in range in three, two, one—” said the lieutenant commander.
“Fire the tractor beams,” ordered Leonidis.
All three tractor beams fired simultaneously toward the nearest Zarlack destroyer. It was currently veering after its last attack run on the station’s shields.
The trio of beams impacted with the destroyer’s shield and their cumulative power slowed the destroyer considerably.
“Fire all prototype torpedoes now!” shouted Leonidis.
He opened a channel to the wing commander. “Send two ships on a collision course.”
A barrage of torpedoes shot toward the destroyer locked by the tractor beams. A few hundred yards before impacting with the shields, about sixty percent of the torpedoes split into smaller ones that immediately released the quadrinium-enhanced flak spheres around them.
The shields of the Zarlack’s destroyer lit up like fireworks and were taken offline. Some of the torpedoes that hadn’t deployed properly punched through and impacted with the destroyer’s armor. Three successive explosions brightened the view from the command center and bathed the room with bright yellow light for several seconds.
The Zarlack destroyer hadn’t been destroyed, but it was on fire, and the two kamikaze Manticore fighter pilots took it out of its misery by sacrificing their lives, ramming into it at maximum burn.
The fourth and fifth explosions their impact generated took out the destroyer in a blaze of fire and molten metal. The resulting shockwave impacted the station’s shields and rocked it heavily but also dealt damage to a nearby Zarlack destroyer’s shields.
“We have a kill!” said Maniatis.
A small but timid cheer rose from the rest of the command center crew, but everyone knew the price they had paid to bring down one of these ships.
Leonidis’ heart ached for the men who had sacrificed their lives to make this happen, and for the next ones who would shortly follow suit. He brushed the thought aside, determined to stay focused on what needed to be done.
“Reload batteries on the double with another batch of scatter torpedoes. Lock onto the next ship and fire the tractor beams the moment the target is in range.”
9
Spiros could hear sounds and incomprehensible words around him as he slowly regained consciousness. His vision was blurry but was clearing with each passing second. Soon, he saw the face of his friend Tassos and heard him speak.
“Wake up, Spiros. We gotta go!”
/> “What happened?”
“You overheated because of your over-clock and the added heat from the explosion.”
“Why . . . How am I still alive?”
“I’ve cooled you down, Spiros. I’d rather we continue this chat on our way to the ship. We’re running out of time, and now we must backtrack to reach the cargo bay via an alternate route.”
Spiros held his head in his hands. It was pounding. When he looked to the side, he saw space, debris and even bodies flying outside. A Zarlack ship in the distance was firing toward the station. When its plasma beam hit the shields, the station trembled.
“In Zeus’ name—”
“Yeah, he’s not on our side today; but let’s try and beat the odds anyway. Can you get back up?”
“When did you become so brave?”
“I think it’s the adrenaline; but make no mistake, I’m still shitting my pants on the inside.”
Spiros chuckled. He got back on his feet, but his legs faltered. Tassos caught him before he fell and helped him straighten up.
“Can you walk? Ideally, run?”
“I can start with walking. I think.”
“Good. We really must go. Can you check the status of your transfer? I checked earlier, and I could detect a wireless signal, but I couldn’t tell much about the integrity of the data transferred since it’s encrypted.”
The transfer!
The thought gave Spiros a discharge of adrenaline, and his blurry mind became crystal clear. His focus returned in a flash. He checked the data transfer. Everything was still on track. No sign of corruption. The timer showed three minutes and change on completion of the transfer.
“We’re good. The transfer is on track and will be completed soon. Let’s get to the Phoenix while we still can.”
The major approached them. “Are we good to go? I’ve lost nearly a third of my people. We have to hurry and make sure their deaths weren’t in vain.”
Universe in Flames – Ultimate 10 Book Box Set: An Epic Space Opera Adventure Page 46
