Impact Event (Dargo Pearce Chronicles #1)

by David N. Frank

“It’s the gravity wave ship! It’s found us!”

  EIGHTEEN

  Interstellar Transit Zone, Jericho System

  CS Nightingale

  Pearce’s first instinct was to flee. With a thought his VIA checked the status of the A-Drive and showed that the rear FTL emitters had been shredded in the attack, which had indeed blasted straight through two of the Nightingale’s three main engines. Debris from the impact of the railgun round had destroyed or damaged nearly every other piece of hardware located in the engine section of the ship. Luckily the hab section seemed to have been spared, but they wouldn’t be able to escape using the A-Drive.

  With that option off the table Pearce re-examined the enemy ship. It had simply appeared less than twenty thousand kilometers away from them and fired a single shot. In space that was practically right on top of them. It could easily finish them off now that they were disabled with a few well-placed railgun rounds. Instead, it was braking hard and maneuvering to match velocities and vectors with the Nightingale. Clearly, they meant to board the ship and capture and interrogate anyone they found on it.

  That was unacceptable to Pearce.

  Captain Lillywhite was shouting orders, still trying to get control of his ship without realizing that it was a lost cause. As he instructed Pilosni to attempt to stop the ship’s lateral spin, Pearce used his hacked command authority to shut down all access to the ship’s systems and silence the dozen or so alarms that were going off. He unstrapped himself from the crash couch and floated to the center of the room and called for attention. Nine heads swiveled silently to face him, various levels of fear etched across all of them.

  “Listen up. The Nightingale is dead in space. The A-Drive is inoperable. The enemy vessel is closing in to board us. Once they do so, they will capture and interrogate every single person aboard before they subsequently space us all.” He let the bluntness of his words sink in. As they watched, Pearce dialed the artificial gravity back up to 0.8 of Earth normal, and slowly dropped to the deck in a standing position.

  “I’m not going to let that happen,” he slowly continued with grit in his voice. This was acting as much as it was a pep talk. He needed to get everyone 100% aboard with his plan, and to do that he needed them to trust him implicitly. “A lot of you have been wondering about who I really am. My real name is Colonel Dargo Pearce, commander, 102nd Special Services Group, retired.” At hearing this, the Marines shared a glance and then rose to their feet, snapping salutes. That was a good touch. “At ease Marines. I left the SSG, the Confederation’s most elite combat unit, to work for an even more elite black ops group. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I am a one-man army.”

  “This enemy ship might as well have a magic space engine for all I care, but that is completely useless once they attach themselves to this ship and send troops aboard. At that point, it becomes a battle of men rather than a battle of ships. I intend to win that battle, and I’ll need everyone’s help to do so.”

  He brought the clearest sensor scan of the enemy ship up on the main holo-display he stood next to. It looked like no other ship Pearce had ever laid eyes upon. Smaller ships like the Nightingale that could enter atmosphere were essentially shaped as rockets had been for centuries. Larger void-only ship classes all resembled giant rectangular boxes.

  The grav-ship seemed alien in contrast. A spherical-shaped center hull clearly housed several weapons modules along with the habitat section. It was attached at the rear to a more traditional propulsion module by a large girder that also housed the propellant. Surrounding the entire primary hull was a flat ring-like structure that was attached via an array of struts and pylons.

  “This ship is clearly not a troop carrier and the hab space is smaller than even the smallest Confed corvette. A ship this size would normally carry less than a dozen marines and thirty to fifty spacers.” He slowly spun around as he spoke, making eye contact with everyone. “I’ve boarded ships and faced odds ten times as bad and come out without a scratch. And we have the element of surprise, because at most they will expect three Marines and some unarmed civilians. We’ll hit them with overwhelming force, tactical surprise, and we will be victorious.”

  His gaze settled on Lillywhite.

  “So Captain, I have only question for you.”

  The air was pregnant with anticipation as Pearce paused before delivering the final psychological boost.

  “What do you want to call your new ship?”

  ***

  They had about ten minutes before the enemy would be in range to dock an umbilical and board the ship, but Pearce still laid out the plan quickly as he wanted to rehearse it as much as possible. He left the ship spinning in space, as it would buy them some additional time as the grav-ship dealt with it. They would load up with all available arms from the three caches they had on board; the airlock stash, the Marine’s equipment, and Pearce’s personal stash in his quarters. Pearce and the Marine’s would lead the assault, with the rest providing cover and support. They’d fight to the CIC and engineering section of the enemy ship and capture them, and then mop up any remaining enemy forces.

  The plan was incredibly light on details and dumbed down to the point of ridiculousness. There were many more challenges that they would have to face but Pearce didn’t want anyone freaking out, so he kept it as simple as possible and didn’t highlight any of the enormous risks. He sent private transmissions to the Marines letting them know to keep silent until he could provide them with the real plan.

  As they evacuated the command deck and began stocking up with weapons, Pearce communicated with Emma, who was the true lynchpin of his plan. He had kept a muted line open with her since the attack. Now he transmitted his intentions for the AGI in his plan. Emma readily agreed and even seemed excited by the prospect of being such a valuable component.

  They all met up at the passageway leading into the airlock. Emma was waiting for them. Pearce introduced her quickly to the group.

  “This is Emma. Emma is a fully functional artificial general intelligence housed within an android body.” He watched with some amusement as Jula’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “She has advanced combat training and may be even more lethal than I am.” He didn’t mention that her combat training was a combat package download from his own VIA and that her experience was less than a rookie soldier. “Most importantly for our purposes, she isn’t human and doesn’t need a suit to survive in vacuum.”

  He explained the rest of her role in the plan before quickly demonstrating a crash course in using the weapons that he had handed out, and covering some basic combat tactics. He didn’t plan on needing anyone other than himself, Emma, and the Marines to do any actual fighting but the small bit of knowledge that they picked up might save their lives.

  Throughout it all Emma stood impassive by the airlock, watching the humans with interest. For the first time in her short life, the fate of her makers was in her hands. Pearce hoped to hell that she was up to the task.

  ***

  The enemy ship approached to boarding range and spent some time adjusting to match the Nightingale’s spin. Before they could extend their docking umbilical to connect the two airlocks, the Nightingale’s exterior airlock door slid open and a flailing body was sucked out into the void. The suit-less body streaked across the distance between the two ships and slammed into the hull just above the grav-ship’s airlock, bouncing off and heading towards deep space.

  A semi-hysterical woman’s voice suddenly came over the all-ships-hailing frequency. “Unidentified vessel, this is First Officer Roberta Pilosni of the Nightingale. We have just executed the spy who had taken control of our ship and offer our immediate and unconditional surrender. She killed several of the crew including our Captain and seriously injured two Marines who need immediate medical attention. Please respond!”

  There was no response for a moment, and then the enemy ship’s umbilical began extending towards the Nightingale. When it was about halfway extended a voice finally respon
ded over the comm.

  “Nightingale, you will have all remaining crew and passengers lie face-down on the deck outside of the main airlock doors, with your hands on your heads and your fingers interlocked, with legs crossed. Any movement before being ordered to do so will result in the use of lethal force. Do you copy?”

  Pearce nodded at Pilosni, who was doing a great job of pulling off the con. “We copy and we are immediately complying. End transmission.” She switched off the comm, double checked that they were clear, and then said “That guy’s in for a big surprise.”

  Pearce hadn’t told anybody other than the Marines what the full extent of the plan was. The truth was, trying to repel boarders in a situation like this was incredibly difficult. Trying to launch a counter-assault on the boarding vessel was near suicide.

  The dilemma was a simple one. The enemy controlled the crucial territory of the umbilical. They could disconnect it at any time. If you were wearing an e-suit, you’d end up stuck in space with no way to reach the enemy or your own ship. If you were not wearing one you were dead in seconds. Additionally, the umbilical was left unpressurized in these situations. The enemy would transit through it in armored e-suits of their own precisely to prevent the type of counter-assault Pearce was planning. Even if you overwhelmed the attackers, you’d still have to transit the vacuum of an umbilical that they enemy would simply detach at the first sign of trouble.

  Which is where Emma came in. She had launched rather purposefully from the Nightingale with a small spool of tether attached to her belt. While she appeared to be the doomed victim of an airlock spacing, banging off the hull of the enemy ship and into space, she had actually landed exactly where she wanted and attached that tether before continuing her faked death.

  She would already be reeling herself back in, and would hopefully be able to hack into the local circuits for the umbilical. With those captured and under control, Pearce’s team could cross into the belly of the enemy and enact their plan. To preserve secrecy, Emma was observing total radio silence, which unnervingly meant that Pearce would have no idea if the plan had worked until it was too late.

  Pearce checked over his hastily arranged “squad”. The Captain was the only one with any military training, and while a two-year stint in civil defense with zero combat experience wasn’t ideal it was more than anyone else. Therefore Pearce had given him one of the dead Marine’s PB rifles and armor. Venano wielded the other Marine rifle. Jula and Meson had the two fallen Marine’s sidearms, and he had given Pilosni and Dewey two other pistols. Murrig and Allison carried their normal loadouts and additionally carried the ballistic assault rifles Pearce and Emma had brought back from the surface. Hopefully they wouldn’t have to use them; the only thing more dangerous than firing bullets at high velocities inside a starship was using a railgun.

  Pearce had donned the other spare set of armor himself, and carried an assorted arsenal of weaponry. From the stash in his suite he had assembled a match-grade fully-kitted-out Hyks PB rifle, which was draped across his chest with a tactical sling. He had the captured spreader obtained from Zyrn earlier slung across this back with a mag-lock, and his pistol mag-holstered to his thigh. Finally, in a utility belt he had six stun drones, which would be invaluable in a ship-boarding assault such as this.

  Everyone other than Pearce and the Marines were stacked up just outside the open inner airlock door, holding onto grab-handles and tethered loosely together with rescue cable. Pearce himself stood directly in front of the outer airlock door, with the Marines directly behind him. The umbilical was nearly mated; time to rock.

  “Just remember the plan, everyone. I’ll see you all on the other side. In three, two, one…”

  Just after the umbilical connected with the mating area of the Nightingale’s airlock, Pearce braced himself and triggered the emergency release. Normally, this was impossible with both airlock doors open. Airlock doors were designed to never open unless both sides were the same pressure state, but depending on the type of airlock there were ways to override them.

  With the simplistic design of the passenger ship’s airlock, the two sliding lock doors were held locked into place by the negative pressure of the vacuum beyond them. Rigging some handholds to each of the doors, Pearce was able to use his enhanced strength to pull the doors towards him from the locked state to the sliding track they used to open and close. With the doors back on the main track, the emergency release command was accepted and they could open.

  The dual sliding doors slid slowly open, and air roared out of the interior of the ship with visible streams of condensation as emergency klaxons began blaring. Pearce had locked all of the doors and hatches of the habitat module open, and there was ample atmosphere to draw out into the umbilical. It would not take long to pressurize the connecting corridor, but hopefully long enough to enact the plan. The interior of the umbilical beyond was dark, as the interior navigation lights had yet to activate. Through his OHUD’s night-vision, Pearce saw that fifty meters away the opposite end terminated at the outer airlock door of the enemy vessel.

  Pearce’s cyberwarfare suite had begun jamming all communications the instant that the airlock had been triggered. He’d boosted the range of the signal by streaming it to the Nightingale’s main communications array, which had enough transmission power to block all wireless comms on the grav-ship. At least until the enemy figured out what was happened and blew the transmitter up. It should still be enough time to make a big difference.

  He’d also sent the same FLASH OVERRIDE signal he’d used against the Tropicana, ordering the enemy ASI to perform a total emergency reboot of the intelligence core. That would leave all of the ship’s systems functioning while taking the ASI itself out of the game for the next fifteen minutes at least. He also launched a massive cyberattack in an attempt to take over or disable key systems that the ASI would normally control, but many of those systems were hardened against the majority of Pearce’s cyberwarfare suite. They wouldn’t know if any of these attempts worked until they entered the ship.

  Pearce held tightly to the interior handholds for a moment until the initial rush of air slowed down just a bit and then launched himself into the umbilical. His stomach flipped as he crossed the artificial gravity threshold and literally flew down the umbilical headfirst, with his rifle aimed squarely at the enemy ships airlock door. His precisely guided “flight” path angled him just slightly “down” from the center of the door, while he knew that the Marines would be side-by-side behind him with a slightly “up” trajectory to give everyone an unobstructed firing angle.

  Halfway down the umbilical he sent a specific microburst transmission in an extremely narrow band that wasn’t being jammed. Emma would hopefully receive it and be in place to take action. He hoped that the enemy soldiers preparing to board the Nightingale were following Confederation SOP and had already depressurized the airlock. Otherwise, Pearce was about to have a very painful impact with the airlock door he was hurtling towards.

  A split second later and light suddenly flooded into the umbilical as the enemy airlock door sprang open. Pearce fired before he even caught a good glimpse of the figures poised inside. Above him, two more PB bolts streaked by. All three shots found their marks; three soldiers in matte-black armor that Pearce recognized as a variation of standard SSG assault e-suits. The ship’s airlock was considerably larger than the Nightingale’s, and there seemed to be at least a full squad inside. Luckily, none of them had their weapons at the ready and seemed taken completely by surprise.

  Pearce took all of this in the span of a split-second, even as he and the Marines repetitively poured fire into the targets as he continued to hurtle towards imminent collision with them. The e-suit armor was heavy enough to absorb most of the damage of a single PB blast, but Pearce’s second and third shots penetrated and found vulnerable flesh and bone beneath the helmet of the tango he had targeted. Pearce didn’t know if these troops possessed their own graphene skin-armor but with headshots like that it
wouldn’t matter. Pearce shifted aim slightly to the figure directly behind his target and managed to snap off a single shot before he ran out of time and braced himself for impact.

  He was already approaching the doorway near the bottom, and so he shoved his rifle down in its sling towards his chest and crossed arms above his head just prior to smashing into the knees of the now faceless tango he had just killed. One hundred kilos of mass travelling at nearly ten meters per second sent the body flying into the air and both it and Pearce crashed hard into the next soldier standing inside the airlock.

  Before the mass of bodies had completely stopped Pearce was already rolling to his right while grabbing onto the legs of the two nearest armored figures and jumping to his feet, lifting upwards with all of his enhanced strength. The first one was still off-balance from the collision and a chest shot that hadn’t pierced the armor completely, and Pearce flung him backwards to collapse against the rear bulkhead of the airlock. The second soldier reacted by trying to twist his entire body out of the grab, so Pearce simply let go and allowed the soldier to turn his body away from him, which removed him as an immediate threat.

  Just barely a second after Pearce crashed into the chamber the two Marines came flying in at head level and barreled over another handful of tangos. None of the enemy had managed to get their weapons into firing position yet. Murrig and Allison had the left side of the airlock to deal with, and Pearce had the right. His VIA made him aware that there were ten total enemies in the chamber, with three already incapacitated. Seven-on-three odds, with the seven being more heavily armored and likely better trained than the Marines but his three having the element of surprise. And Pearce himself.

  He grinned. Not even close to a fair fight.

  By simple happenstance Pearce had four tangos surrounding him. Tangos One and Two were still recovering from his leg attacks but the other two were raising their own PB rifles dangerously close to Pearce’s lower body. He lashed out with a backhanded blow that knocked the rifle of Tango Three to the side and out of immediate danger even as it fired into the deck. With his other hand he was pulling free the spreader from over his shoulder as he whipped a leg out in a forward kick to Tango Four’s chest. The impact was so severe that it bent the plate armor there and sent him flailing backwards into the bulkhead of the airlock, fumbling with his rifle.