Alien Honor (A Fenris Novel) (22 page)

BOOK: Alien Honor (A Fenris Novel)
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“I think I understand,” Argon said. “His extreme velocity is a weapon.”

“Not strictly speaking,” Tanaka said.

“His velocity is a tactical advantage,” Argon amended.

“It depends on what the enemy hopes to achieve with it.”

“No,” Argon said. “Everything depends on our survival. We must survive so we can return home and warn humanity of the danger.”

“Do the aliens have Teleships?” Cyrus asked.

Argon glanced at him. “Interesting, we haven’t asked ourselves that yet. Gentlemen,” he said to the lieutenants, “I would like to know your views on the subject.”

“I haven’t spotted anything resembling a Teleship,” Tanaka said.

“If they don’t have Teleships,” Cyrus said. “We can’t let them get ours. Otherwise, they might reverse engineer it, build some of their own, and attack Earth. And given the number of Specials they apparently possess, they could probably field an armada of Teleships.”

“That is rationally thought out,” Argon said. After several moments of thought, his features hardened. “We must be ready to self-destruct if it appears the aliens are about to capture our ship.”

“The approaching alien vessel can’t capture us,” Tanaka said. “They’re traveling far too fast for them to slow down in time to board us.”

“I understand,” Argon said. “But they can cripple us so others can board us later.”

“That’s at least a week off,” Tanaka said.

Argon nodded shortly. “We will concentrate on the coming fight. But it is well to remember that our existence is at stake in an alien star system. They have tried to capture us once. I will not give them a second chance.”

Cyrus swallowed in a dry throat. He didn’t like the idea of initiating
Discovery
’s destruction. Nor did he like being the lone Sol ship in a strange star system. Everything here was against them.

He watched the approaching vessel hurtle through the system. Tanaka had told him that it was big and shiny, which was strange. Combat ships should be difficult to spot, allowing them to coast toward an enemy while remaining hidden. It suggested to Tanaka that the aliens didn’t feel the need to hide, which should be a clue toward something. None of them had figured out what, though.

Can we win?
Would the alien be racing at them like this if they thought they could lose? Do their Illustrious Ones understand shifting? The aliens had to know something strange was going on in terms of transportation. The aliens
had been in psi-contact many light years out, drawing them in to New Eden. It would appear the alien leaders wanted the Teleship pretty badly. If the situation were reversed, that’s how Earth’s leaders would think.

“You know,” Cyrus said. “Do you think they mean to destroy us or simply disable the ship?”

“Explain your thinking,” Argon said.

Cyrus told them what he’d just reasoned out.

Lieutenant Tanaka swiveled his chair to look up at Argon. “If our roles were reversed—with aliens in the solar system—the navy chiefs would do whatever they needed to get hold of a starship.”

“Make your meaning clear,” Argon said.

“Cyrus must be right. I don’t think the aliens are going to try to destroy us, merely cripple the ship.”

“In order to capture our Teleship?” Argon asked.

“Yes, sir,” Tanaka said.

“Let us hope that gives us an advantage,” Argon said.

Silence descended after that and the minutes passed in tense waiting.

“It’s time,” Jones said later. “We’d better prepare our lanes of fire.”

“Begin to do so,” Argon said.

At his station, Lieutenant Jones began to manipulate his controls.

In the P-Field and gel cloud in front of the ship, precise explosions cleared lanes of fire, windows for the ship’s lasers.

Cyrus watched and learned, wondering if he would ever have to do something like this again. The first time they’d attacked a stationary habitat. Apparently, the alien space station hadn’t possessed offensive weapons. Now, they were facing an alien battleship. What a crazy thing.

“They’re hailing us,” Tanaka said.

“Ignore it,” Argon said.

“I… I think we should answer this time.”

Cyrus stared at Tanaka in shock. Hadn’t the lieutenant been listening before? What was the man thinking?

“You’re relieved of duty,” Argon said from the command chair. “Exit the bridge at once.”

Tanaka swiveled around to stare up at Argon. “Don’t you see? This is critical. We can avoid death if we just—”

Chief Monitor Argon wasn’t listening. He unbuckled himself, drew a stunner-rod, and leaned down from his chair. His long arm and the rod itself lengthened his reach. Tanaka twisted about frantically in his seat to avoid the tip of the rod. It glowed blue. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t get his straps off and apparently wasn’t thinking clearly enough to turn around and block with the back of his chair. A loud sizzling sound filled the bridge. Tanaka screamed and slumped unconscious.

A side hatch opened and a monitor squeezed into the bridge module.

“Take him to the brig,” Argon said. “Watch him. I don’t know if the alien psi-masters can revive him or not. Tell the others to keep up their concentration shields at all times.”

The monitor dragged Tanaka out of the module.

Cyrus finally understood what must have been going on. The chief monitor had realized more quickly than any of them had. With the nearing alien warship, its psi-master must finally be in range to affect crewmembers without radio linkage.

“Can you fulfill your duties?” Argon asked Lieutenant Jones.

“Yes, sir,” Jones said.

“Occupy navigation,” Argon told Cyrus.

Cyrus slid to the middle chair. He was thinking now, and he asked Argon, “What if the alien psi-master gets hold of Jones’s mind in the middle of battle?”

“Hey!” Jones said. “What are you saying? I’m no turncoat. I won’t go crazy.”

“We need his expertise on the bridge,” Argon said.

“Yeah, we need Jones’s expertise, but if he freaks out at exactly the wrong time won’t that be worse? I mean, better a crew we can trust, even if that crew doesn’t know as much.”

“Quit talking about me as if I’m stupid,” Jones said.

“You are relieved of duty,” Argon told Lieutenant Jones.

“No, sir,” Jones said. “I protest your order.
Discovery
needs at least one real navy officer on the bridge during battle.”

“You just witnessed the aliens’ ability with Tanaka,” Argon said. “It would be rational for them to attempt mind control on you next. You will go now or I will stun you and have you dragged off.”

Angrily, Jones unsnapped himself and floated out of the bridge module to a waiting monitor.

As the hatch closed, Cyrus asked, “Now what? I don’t really know what to do.”

“You did not pay attention earlier to their instructions?”

“Yeah, I listened, but…”

“Move to the weapons chair and pray to the Creator He helps you do your duty.”

As Cyrus slid over, he felt an alien mind reach out to him. It was an oily sensation and filled with hostility. “Someone is trying to make contact with me.”

“Resist!” Argon said.

“I am, but this isn’t good. What are they doing to others in our ship?”

“Now we know their plan, or we know part of the plan. Begin using the targeting computer. I will instruct the monitors to initiate a ship-wide lockdown.”

Cyrus’s gut clenched and his palms became sweaty. This was just great. He’d been watching and learning these last two days, but fighting for all their lives, for Sol as well, it was too much to place on a young man’s shoulders.

He checked controls and went over what Jones had shown him yesterday. They had gone over several simulations, and he’d gotten better each time he played. But this was for real.

“The alien vessel is two million kilometers from us,” Argon said.

Cyrus watched a chronometer. The alien warship moved nearly twelve thousand kilometers a second. In a little less than eighty-three seconds, the enemy would be in range—seconds, eighty-three seconds. What was he doing on the bridge module? This was insane.

“I’m readying the primary laser,” Cyrus said, and he was surprised how calm his voice sounded.

The seconds ticked by as the alien, tear-shaped warship neared the one million kilometer mark. It was big, Sol battleship-sized. How much armor plating did the alien possess? What kind of weapons did it use? This was the first battle between an alien warship and the Sol Navy.

“I never signed up for this,” Cyrus mumbled.

Argon didn’t respond.

Cyrus swiveled around. The chief monitor sat stiffly, with his hands clenched on the captain’s armrests. The big fingers were white, straining, as
Argon likely battled for control of his mind. The man’s face was immobile and his eyes staring.

“Fight,” Argon whispered past unmoving lips.

Cyrus blinked sweat out of his eyes as he turned to his screens. This was just like before. He was alone, with an alien knocking on his mind. Well, he had suggested the right thing with Jones. If he’d had to fight the Navy officer now…

“Concentrate,” Cyrus muttered to himself.

He tapped the number one screen, engaging the targeting computer. They had worked out the situation and played it many times.

Here we go—it’s battle time.

Discovery
’s fusion engines fully engaged. Cyrus felt the mighty thrum. This was different from the last time he did this. Now he knew what he was supposed to be doing. Now he understood the stakes better. This wasn’t just about him. This was about Sol, about Level 40 Milan and all his old friends. If he failed, there might not be an Earth and Milan, as he’d known them. There might be an interstellar war, with the aliens gaining the jump on Sol.

“Now,” he whispered.

The heavy laser aimed at the enemy, directed through the window in the gel and crystal field. Power from the fusion engines and stored battery power surged through the coils and beamed through the targeting mirrors. In a great ray of focused light, the laser shot out of the dome at three hundred thousand kilometers a second.

In 3.3333 seconds, the tip of the laser flashed across one million kilometers of space. The ultra-precise targeting computer had led the alien warship, calculating its exact position
now
.

With the powerful teleoptics in the probes, Cyrus had to wait the same amount of time for information to return at the speed of light. Thus, it took nearly seven seconds from the first shot for Cyrus to see the heavy laser halt at what would appear to be several hundred meters before the skin of the enemy warship.

“Good work!” Argon boomed.

Cyrus turned around in surprise. The chief monitor no longer clutched the armrests. The face was no longer stiff with immobility.

“I was right,” Cyrus said.

Argon raised an eyebrow.

“The alien psi-master isn’t trying to control you anymore,” Cyrus said. “I no longer feel him either. The obvious conclusion is they’re using their powers to shield their ship from our beam.”

“Agreed,” Argon declared.

Cyrus returned to his screens. He activated more lasers, readying them for firing. The alien ship bored toward them at nearly twelve thousand kilometers a second, or seven hundred thousand kilometers a minute. The warship would be in range of the secondary lasers in 42.85 seconds.

The fusion engines continued to thrum with fantastic power, pumping the heavy laser. The beam kept on target, the intense ray inching closer and closer toward the alien’s armor plating.

At six hundred thousand kilometers distance between the ships, an alien laser began to burn into the P-Field.

“We know their range!” Cyrus shouted.

Prismatic crystals reflected the hellish beam for microseconds, dissipating its strength. Then the laser heated the crystal, melting it and robbing it of the reflective power. In less than a second, the alien beam burned through the first layer of the P-Field, boring in toward
Discovery
.

Cyrus tapped the firing screen. More domes on the surface of the Teleship opened. The secondary lasers poked out. At five hundred thousand kilometers, more lasers beamed across the closing distance, striking the alien psi-shield.

“Pump more crystals into place,” Argon said.

“I’m trying,” Cyrus said. “I’m not quite sure how do it. But I should be able to figure it out soon.” He continued tapping.

“No,” Argon said. “Leave it. In your ignorance, you might accidently stop us from doing a good thing.” The chief monitor slapped a comm button on his chair. “Get me Jones. Bring him back onto the bridge.”

Cyrus was too focused to worry about Jones now.

Alien lasers burned through the P-Field and sliced through the gel cloud. In another two seconds, the enemy beams burned onto the surface of the Teleship. The hottest immediately began burning down into the asteroidal rock, boring in toward
Discovery
’s vitals.

“Tell Jones to hurry!” Argon shouted into the comm.

Cyrus watched helplessly. This was terrible. Then he spied secondary alien beams lancing into the darkness.

“What are they doing?” Argon said. He must have spotted the same thing. “Why aren’t those lasers striking at us?”

“Ah! They must be hunting down our missiles. Hopefully, the decoy emitters are working.”

“Right, the Prometheus missiles,” Argon said. “We need something to work for us.”

The seconds brought swift change to the battle. The alien warship’s terrific velocity and the rather short range of the lasers mandated it.

“Rotate the Teleship,” Argon said. “Point the unused asteroid mass at their lasers.”

Cyrus swiveled around and shook his head. “We’re operating on the simplest level with the targeting computer. If we begin moving our ship, we’ll have to recalculate and reconfigure our firing strategies. I say we hold on with what we’re doing and hope the missiles make the difference.”

Argon stared at him. For the first time, Cyrus saw indecision on the man’s face. “We’ll take damage if we do it your way. We might lose lives, particularly among the sleeping colonists.”

“I grew up in the slums, Chief Monitor. Sometimes there aren’t any good decisions. It’s then you have to stick with what you know and hope for the best.”

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