Dreadnought (Lost Colonies Trilogy Book 2) (32 page)

Turning toward Zye, I gave her the only orders I could think of.

“Raise shields, Zye,” I said.

“Captain,” Durris protested. “They’ll know we see them.”

“Yes, but if we don’t they could ambush us at any moment. Raise shields!”

Zye’s hand reached up to her boards, and she touched them. The ship’s defensive systems came alive in response.

-50-

The Stroj dreadnought was right on top of us. My first thought, other than initial shock, was that I should have foreseen the possibility. The enemy had demonstrated the ability to cloak their ships. If they were capable of that illusion, why not others?

“In short,” Yamada said, “they’re projecting their location, using a sensor-fooling system of some kind to appear to be far away when they’re really quite close.”

“That’s why they appeared to be too large,” Durris added. “Their projection is displaced, but since it’s actually closer, the image is larger.”

“The increased size is a flaw in their system,” I said. “A give-away like the tritium trails. Let’s hope they don’t get any better at fooling us than they already are.”

“Captain!” Yamada interjected. “The dreadnought is opening her gun ports and shifting course.”

“New course and heading?”

“I—I’m not sure, sir. I don’t know where they really are.”

“First Officer,” I said quickly. “Assume they’re heading directly toward us. Use the tritium trail and the angle of flight to triangulate. We should be able to pinpoint their actual position.”

“On it, Captain,” he said, racing back to his nav tables.

Zye looked at me pointedly. “We should run… or fight. Your orders, sir?”

I studied the monstrous ship on the screens. She seemed even more threatening when I wasn’t sure exactly where she was.

“They can’t be in range,” I said, “or they would have fired immediately. Wherever they are, we don’t have much time. Angle away from the approaching vessel, Rumbold.”

He looked startled and uncertain. “What heading sir? I don’t know where they really are.”

“Assume they’re in the general direction of their illusion. Tack away at a sharp angle. Do so now.”

He put his hands on the controls, glancing at Durris hopefully. As he was still working on the nav table, it was clear to Rumbold he wasn’t getting any help from there.

Going by feel, he gave us a thirty-degree shift and we were pressed against our straps as thrust was applied.

“Enemy reflection is shifting course with us,” Yamada said. “At least, it looks like they are. Their sensor image appears to be flying at nothing, but they have to be reacting to us.”

“Durris?” I called. “I need a solution, Commander.”

“On it, sir…” he said, but it was a full harrowing minute before he came back triumphant.

“I think I have it,” he told me. “That last course change provided another point of reference. I’ve got them pinpointed.”

“Range?”

He locked eyes with me. “About eight hundred thousand kilometers.”

“So close? But they’re not firing.”

“The Stroj ships might not have extremely long-range weapons, sir. We’ve yet to see a ship of theirs that does.”

“Alternately,” Zye said suddenly, “like the smaller Stroj ships when cloaked, this dreadnought’s displacement system might take too much power for them to fire while it’s on. That would indicate they’re getting close enough for a killing shot before they turn the effect off.”

I nodded slowly. “That has to be it. They must realize we know they’re displaced. But they’re gambling that we don’t have them pinpointed. Their best bet, in that case, is to get in close and blast us at point-blank range at a moment of their choosing.”

Turning to Durris and Zye, I made a fateful decision. “I know we don’t have a target-lock. But the target is fairly large, and we know where they are down to decimal places. We’re going to lay down a pattern of fire hoping for luck.”

Durris’ mouth tightened into a line, but he said nothing. “Passing my algorithm to you, Zye. Target the projected coordinates.”

“Particle beam cannons active,” she said. “Charging up.”

“Don’t fire them all at once,” I cautioned her. “Lay out a consistent barrage, looking for a hit.”

Several tense minutes passed. At last, the cannon batteries were ready.

“Fire at will,” I said.

Immediately, the ship shuddered. The big guns cycled and recharged while we anxiously awaited any kind of feedback.

“No evidence that we hit anything, sir,” Zye said.

“I need better numbers out of your station, Durris.”

“I know sir, I know!”

He worked, his face sweating, to give me a closer target. The math was complex, and while our battle computers were powerful number-crunchers, they weren’t specifically programmed for such a situation. Guesswork was the specialty of humans.

By the time the cannons had cooled and recharged, he had a slight variation to offer. We fired again. After several seconds, the result was determined to be the same: nothing.

“They can’t be too worried,” Rumbold remarked. “They’re still using their displacement system. If we were scorching their fins I bet they’d come out of hiding and start swinging back.”

His logic was irrefutable. I moved to help Durris with the math. Both of us strained and slid formulas around on his table. The programming was intense, and I wasn’t as well trained on the process as he was. Still, I managed to give him some options he hadn’t considered.

“Let’s try to flush them,” I said. “Assume we’re missing by a wide margin. Independently target every cannon in a bank, then fire them all at once like a rainstorm of fire.”

“Won’t do much damage if we hit.”

“No, but it might scare them.”

He looked at me seriously. “Sir, are you sure you want to engage this vessel in toe-to-toe combat? I believe Admiral Halsey—”

“Yes, I know. This isn’t my choice. The enemy has crept up on us. We’re firing defensively. If we don’t even know where they are, how do we run from them?”

I could tell he was unconvinced, but he stopped objecting. At last, we had zeroed in on another region of space . We fired again, and this time the beams were all widely dispersed.

“Any response?” I asked.

Yamada didn’t answer immediately. She looked worried, and she was staring into her scopes.

“Captain…” she said. “I don’t understand it, but it looks like they just disappeared.”

“Widen your scanning area. Look where Durris and I have been placing all these shots.”

There was a tense moment or two while she swung her sensor array around and began studying a new region of space.

“I’ve picked her up again—she’s close, sir!” Yamada called.

“How close?”

“Less than five hundred thousand kilometers.”

“Battle stations!” I shouted. “Everyone strap in. Zye, unload our defensive measures and strengthen that aft shield. Rumbold—”

“I know sir—hang on!”

We began evading with a sickening lurch. Another sudden shift followed five seconds after the first.

“Zye, see if you can hit them now.”

“Waiting on heat recycle.”

“Fire in the yellow—we may not get a second chance.”

“Enemy weapons charging up,” Yamada said.

On the forward screens, I could see dreadnought now—the real ship, in her real location. The gun ports were open, and her wicked-looking cannons were tracking us. I calculated we were probably within her optimal range of fire. We were still firing at long range, meaning our guns could be effective, but they couldn’t deliver their maximum punch.

“Missiles detected, but we have some time before they can catch us,” Yamada said. “The enemy cannons are going off—they’re missing us.”

“Keep up the good work, Rumbold.”

He tossed me a grin over his shoulder then went back to obsessively minding the helm.

That was as far as we got before one of those big, invisible beams caught up to us. The ship buckled with explosive impact.

“Port side shield down in one hit,” Zye said. “Hull has minor damage.”

“Invert!” I ordered. “Aim our starboard side toward them.”

There was the sensation of doing a barrel-roll.
Defiant
spun itself on its keel axis to present an undamaged shield to the enemy. It was mildly sickening, but everyone held on determinedly.

“Keep evading, Rumbold. Don’t spare the gas.”

We were accelerating hard now, and it made my teeth ache.

“We hit their forward shield twice,” Zye said. “No appreciable effect.”

My heart sank. It was really true. We couldn’t fight this monster.

We were entirely out-classed.

-51-

We ran. There was nothing else to do.

The next half-hour was a time of grueling pain. It was like being on the worst of roller-coasters but with none of the fun involved.

We lurched and slammed from side-to-side. Now and then, the enemy caught us with a sizzling beam in the guts. The hull was scored until it had blackened. I had no doubt that
Defiant’s
exterior resembled the bark of an abused oak, scorched by flames and torn up by the claws of wild beasts.

Over and over we inverted, flipping a freshly recharged shield toward the enemy, only to have it blasted down again. The impacts were deafening, and I could hardly make myself heard over them.

Yamada said something after ten minutes of this abuse, but I missed her words.

“Repeat that, Yamada,” I ordered.

“Sir, we’ve got a communication incoming.”

I almost laughed. Was CENTCOM calling to complain about my not following orders? Were they considering a court martial for unauthorized enemy engagement?

“Tap it directly to my implant.”

There was no point in taking a message on the screens now. It was impossible to converse normally. Vomit rolled on the decks and crawled up the walls. A few of the command crew had already passed out, and I knew more would follow.

Closing my eyes, I answered my implant and displayed the transmission in my head.

They
appeared. They were not human—at least, not entirely. A trio of Stroj seemingly stood before me in my field of vision. They were disembodied, overwritten upon my retina.

My eyes snapped open, and they stood in a tight group before me. They all stared at me—as if they were just as uncertain of what they were looking at as I was.

“Well met,” I said. “I take it you’re from the ship I’m engaged with right now?”

“We command
Nostromo
,” said the one on the left.

“
Nostromo
…” I said thoughtfully. “Which of you is the captain?”

“We share that duty. You are the captain of the Beta ship?”

“I am.”

“You are a Basic?”

“That would seem self-evident.”

They turned toward one another, exchanging glances.

“It’s not permitted for Earth to have a ship such as this,” the one on the right said.

I shifted my eyes toward him—or was it her? Yes… vestigial flaps for breasts gave it away. She’d evidently grafted the limbs of another, larger male onto her person—blending them with the features of her original form.

“Why can’t we have such a ship?” I asked. I cared little for their restrictions, but I was curious about them.

“Beta ships are difficult to destroy. It’s outside our thought-boundaries that you should be flying such a vessel.”

“Well, I am. What are you going to do about it?”

“Destroy you, of course.”

Chuckling, I shook my head. Talking to the Stroj was almost always a thankless chore.

“Is that why you’re calling?” I asked. “To inform me of my scheduled demise? In that case, I have a ship to attend to, and I need to get back to the battle.”

“This action is not a battle,” the one on the left corrected me. “It is an execution. A correction of an error.”

I began to get it then. These three didn’t have organic brains. They were all linked—I could see the tubes interconnecting them now. They’d formed some kind of a joint command by plugging their artificial minds together. Under different circumstances, I might have found them fascinating.

“Is that all you wish to say?” I prompted.

“No. We desire information.”

“What information?”

“Where is the creature known as Lorn? What did he tell you of our mission?”

Apparently, they’d detected the pinnace we’d left behind in hyperspace, but they weren’t sure who was aboard. I hesitated before responding. Lorn, for all his faults, had kept up his end of every bargain we’d struck. He’d shown us how to exit the Stroj system. He’d brought us a code-key to do it as well. Unlike these machine-minded Stroj, he had a more or less human brain.

“I refuse to answer,” I said.

“You’re protecting a Stroj?” asked the one on the right—the female. “That’s most unusual.”

“It’s as I expected,” said the one in the middle, the only one who hadn’t spoken up until now. He was taller and thinner than the other two. His connecting tubes ran to both of the other Stroj, which gave me the impression he was the leader of the trio.

“Lorn is a traitor,” he said to his co-captains. “He’s in league with these Basics, no matter what they say.”

“Gentlemen—and Lady,” I said. “I’m afraid I have to disconnect now. Unless you want to offer terms under which we both ceasefire…?”

They seemed grimly amused by the concept.

“Well then,” I continued, “I need to get back to my duties.”

“Wait,” said the tall one in the middle. “You are that which is known as Sparhawk?”

“Yes, I am.”

“We look forward to consuming your flesh. We’ve each pre-chosen a portion of your body to subsume. We would greatly prefer it if you eject from your ship now, so that your corpse won’t be too badly damaged.”

They all looked at me hungrily for a moment, and I disconnected without answering. Suppressing a shudder, I noticed that the impacts on our hull had subsided during my conversation with the enemy.

“Status?” I demanded.

“They’ve broken off,” Durris said, “it’s most peculiar.”

“No it isn’t,” Rumbold objected. “My evasions made their task hopeless. They know they can’t catch us, so they’re retreating.”

My hopes dared to soar. Could they be so anxious to capture me intact that they would break off the attack?

“You’re wrong,” Zye said to Rumbold.

We all looked at her.

“Stroj are creatures that abhor inefficiency,” she said. “They’ve decided to take the easy route to our destruction.”

“And what’s that?” Durris asked.

“To head for Earth again, of course. Now that their projection tricks failed to get them in close enough to destroy us, they’ve gone back to their original plan.”

“Which is?” Rumbold demanded.

“They’ll fly directly to Earth and begin bombing,” I answered before Zye could. Her logic was perfectly clear to me now. “They know we’ll have to fight them to save Earth. We won’t keep running if they begin to exterminate our population. Why chase us? All they have to do is head to Earth, knowing we’ll intercept.”

The rest of my crew looked glum as they pondered the undeniable truth of what Zye and I were saying.

There were many hours to fly as we turned back to our previous course. The Stroj ship was no longer displaced. We stayed out of range, shadowing her.

During the next thirty or so hours, we received many queries from CENTCOM. They were beginning to panic back on Earth.

“Sparhawk,” Halsey told me grimly when we were beginning our final approach. “We’ve reviewed your logs, and the vids from your recent engagement with this enemy. I’ll have to admit, I can’t see where you could have done something different that would have been effective. Yes, you brought them to Earth—but they were clearly planning to attack anyway. Your discovery destroyed their invasion army and forced their hand. I can’t see that as anything other than a job well done.”

He looked extra tired in this latest recording. Almost beaten. His fingertips lingered at his right temple, rubbing the spot repeatedly.

“Despite your actions, this is going to be very difficult,” he continued. “We’ve got ships, but they’re untested. None of them can take the kind of beating that your ship has already received. They’re more than destroyers, they’re light cruisers. But compared to your battle cruiser, they’re like tin cans.”

I didn’t reply. We were still too far out for interactive conversations. We’d just passed the orbit of Mars, and given its relative position to Earth, that delayed our transmissions by about nine minutes.

“The only thing that makes sense to us is to hit them with everything we’ve got, in close, and all at once. Your ship will have to be here, of course. Plan on rendezvousing with the rest of Star Guard at 0500 hours, GMT zero. We’ll strike just as they get within range of Fort Luna.”

Making a crisp response acknowledging the orders, I wished Halsey well and sent the message. After that I informed my crew about the battle plan, and most of them seemed pleased.

“About time we got a little credit,” Durris said, smiling. “I was worried they’d shoot the messenger on this one. But they’ve got to know that the Stroj were always a threat, and the fact we discovered them early before they were ready has screwed up their plans. We couldn’t have done any better in our service of Earth.”

“No, probably not,” I agreed.

Rumbold was the only one who didn’t seem pleased.

“Their tone,” he said, “I don’t like it. They think we’re doomed, don’t they Captain?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“No, of course not... Do you want me at the helm for this action, sir?”

I looked at him thoughtfully, then nodded. “You’ve done pretty well up until now, old man.”

“Thank you sir,” he said, and he manned his station proudly. He was the only oldster on the command deck—unless you counted the frequent visits by my aunt—and he was visibly proud of his service.

I chanced to look at the battle-clock then, and my smile faded.

We had less than two hours to go before we’d again come within range of those punishing guns.