by Kevin Gordon
the images from the probe, showing some of the plating beginning to come up on the capital.
^We have done it!^ she cried. ^The next pass will surely be our last.^
Oroklos mentally accessed the status of the dromon ships. ^It could be in more ways than one.^
^Afraid to die?^ she asked wryly.
^No, afraid to lose. Our colvition system is near failure, our NnuG generators are nearing overload.^
^We won’t fail,^ she cast confidently. ^Now, bring all dromons in for this final run. Ten ships will concentrate fire on that opening until it is wide enough, then launch mines. The rest will follow and launch theirs.^
^And we will be in the lead position again?^
^Of course.^
Oroklos turned to face her. ^Theia, our barrier cannot take much more punishment. We are, by far, the weakest ship.^
^I know. But we must set the example. Don’t tell me CRODAM officers always gave up this easily?^
Oroklos sighed. ^Such a predictable taunt, my Saeren.^
^Did it work?^
Trying to hide a smile, he turned back to his console. ^We shall succeed.^
^Good. Are our maintenance meta deployed?^
^Yes, but the capital is interfering with their operation. All systems are getting sluggish. I don’t know if the TELREC are using some invasive protocol, or just a jamming signal.^
^Well, no time to think,^ she cast. ^Pull them in again for this last pass.^
The dromons came in hard, with TELREC fighters keeping their distance but scoring mostly direct hits on their hulls. With their engines facing away from the capital, they made brilliant targets in the blackness of the void.
^Theia, we are almost above the damage point,^ warned Oroklos, trying to mentally reconfigure their power reserves and barrier configuration.
^Bring all ships to a halt above it!^ cried Theia. ^Reconfigure barrier to defend our flanks!^
^Already done.^
They sat there for what seemed an eternity to Theia, taking merciless pounding from the TELREC fighters. The Nemosini began to come apart around her—mitters shattered, bulkheads could be heard crumbling. And as their barrier weakened, a sense of fear and dread grew stronger.
Damn TELREC and their mental manipulation. She cast to her fleet; ^be strong in the face of the TELREC! My Coss know how to defeat this mental attack but to all others: the TELREC are weak, and know they will be defeated. Press forward the assault, and never look back!^
The cannon fire grew deafening, as it now impacted on the hull itself. A few of the dromons had their weapon systems overload, and their Saerens grudgingly pulled back. Theia watched them leave, feeling failure creep up with stealth and malice.
^Move the ships in closer!^ she commanded. ^Increase fire!^
Theia counted the cannon-strikes, hoping that each one would be the one to blast a hole in LN-33. The TELREC fighters ceased to weave in a defensive pattern, instead settling in to fixed positions, concentrating their fire on the dromons. The floor buckled beneath Theia, as smoke issued from various parts of the nexus. She could feel the clone controller was using all his training to keep the clones focused, as even warriors such as them could feel despair.
It must come now. We have put too much into this. We cannot fail . . .
^Saeren, we have full penetration!^ cried Oroklos, almost jumping out of his chair. Theia wanted to scream with joy.
^Launch the mines!^ she cast, leaping up from her chair.
The mines shot out of the dromons, moving quickly into the opening formed in the capital’s hull. As each dromon exhausted their cargo, they moved off, engaging the fighters above, striking back with a vengeance.
^Bring in the final wave!^
The last of the dromons pulled in, and quickly launched their mines. The Nemosini and a few others remained, now turned outwards to provide defense against the TELREC fighters.
^All mines deployed!^
Theia relaxed back into her chair. ^Then when you are ready . . .^
Oroklos grinned back, beginning to like her attitude. ^Yes Saeren. All dromons; retreat from the battlegrid!^
All dromons pulled away, a few falling against the incessant fire of the TELREC fighters. Theia looked on them, nesting the death-screams of their crews, vowing they would be avenged.
^Saeren, there are too many fighters covering our escape vectors.^
^We will not fail now,^ Theia cast as she also communicated with Hildnic, who agreed to send fighters to cover their pullback. ^Now let’s hope those clones make it all worthwhile.^
^Saeren, we can’t get too far from that ship!^ cried Eusis, almost collapsing from the mental strain. ^The jamming signals are interfering with my control of the clones.^
^Then pull us around, along with three dromons in the best shape,^ replied Theia. ^How are the clones progressing?^
Eusis accessed the visual input of the clones, scanning through several dozen of them.
^They’re encountering heavy resistance. TELREC clones have halted their progress just outside their main MP deck.^
^Let me see.^
She tapped into the visual feed. She saw the massive TELREC clones firing emdec weapons, felt the ment-dex weaponry trying to disrupt the controller’s hold over them. It was an eerie scene to her, to see so many of the same fighting so many of the same. It was as if only two people were fighting this war, and what she saw were aspects of their personality.
^If they can’t make it into the MP section, command them to begin firing into the bulkheads themselves,^ ordered Theia. ^Power lines must flow somewhere around them, and as they start to disrupt power, it will force the TELREC clones to abandon their defensive position.^
^Understood,^ replied Eusis.
The clones began to fire into the walls, exposing the systems beneath. Eventually, they destroyed several power lines and as lighting failed, alarms sounded. A few TELREC clones broke from their positions, trying to advance on them.
^There, controller, see that clone, close by?^
^Yes?^
^Attack him, and pull his body behind our lines.^
^Why?^
^Just do it!^ commanded Theia.
The OLMAC clones killed him, and pulled his lifeless body back. The TELREC clones looked on, confused, still firing.
^Now cut off his head.^
^What?^ asked a confused Eusis.
^Here, let me take over.^
Theia assumed command of the clone, feeling its body as her own. It was a massively strong man, but seemingly cold to Theia. She had the clone reach down with its thick gloved hands, lift up the body, and hold it against a wall. She had the clone pull out its knife, motioning two other clones to keep the body pinned against the wall. She then had the clone saw through the dead clone’s neck, thick blood oozing out. She had the clone grab the severed head by the hair, and looked for a moment at its half-closed eyes, its mouth hung open in a final scream, the body falling to the ground like so much waste. Its comrades looked at the head, then at the clone, seeming to remember something once forgotten. She had the clone hold it high, in full view of the TELREC clones.
“Aiella!” she had the clone scream, with all its might. The clone motioned to the others, who also began to scream.
“Aiella! Aiella!”
She had the clone swing the head above them all and slam it against a wall, breaking its skull. She had the clone drop it on the ground and step on it, turning it into so much residue on her boots. She had the clone then pick up its emdec cannon, and hold it high above its head.
“Aiella!”
The TELREC clones became enraged, as the action tapped into something primal within them. They staggered for a moment, their minds breaking free from their controller. Hatred filled their eyes, as they broke their positions, and rushed at the OLMAC clones.
^Now cut them down!^ ordered Theia.
They were now easy targets, and in moments most lay dead, and the entrance to MP section poorly protected.
^Mov
e in, and break that ship!^
Theia sat back, relieved to be out of the mind of the clone. Oroklos turned to her.
^Well done. How did you know what to do?^
^I was, or am, a terrorist. I know what gets the emotions going in people. Though they are clones, they were once soldiers, great men and women who would never tolerate the fouling of a comrade’s body.^
^A valuable page from the terrorist’s handbook, eh?^ cast Oroklos, nodding appreciatively.
^One of the few pages I can actually use.^
^You never know, my Saeren,^ cast Oroklos, turning back to his console, ^when the seemingly irrelevant can all of a sudden become amazingly pertinent.^
The Nemosini spun in its orbit of the capital, Oroklos trying to balance the need to be close for the controller’s signal with the increasing punishment the TELREC fighters were inflicting. The NnuG barrier seemed to be crackling three times every mroa, and Oroklos could sense the generators were being pushed to their limit. When he was told he would be serving under Theia, he felt it was a death sentence, that there was no way an Iganinagi terrorist could effectively command a fleet of dromons. While he knew he was wrong now, he still felt the threat of death loom too close for his liking. With each strafing run by the TELREC fighters the ship seemed to grow darker, sinking sideways into oblivion. Oroklos shook the fear from him, and was surprised to see Theia standing behind him, wearing a comforting smile.
^Don’t worry, my friend, we shall make it out,^ she cast. ^I promise.^
^I have faith in you, my Saeren,^ he replied. ^But we could use a little luck, right now.^
^Truer words were never cast.^ She sat back in her chair, watching the capital ship lay motionless, hoping the clones would
