Henry Gallant Saga 2: Lieutenant Henry Gallant (30 page)

He got to his feet momentarily, but in a flash, he was knocked down to the grass again.

His struggles were desperate as he kept his arms between his throat and the beast’s teeth. The dragor clawed him again opening a wide gash on his chest and increasing the flow of his blood falling onto the jungle floor.

Without hesitation, Alaina bent down, feeling for Gallant’s gun. Finding it, she fired at the beast, hitting it in the neck. It growled in pain and ran away into the undergrowth.

Several other dragors remained nearby—growling ever more fiercely—hurling their animal threats at the creatures that had thwarted them.

Gallant looked terrible, stooped over, with dark blood stains from his temples down to his waist. He could smell and taste his own blood as he struggled to sit up on the dank ground.

Alaina’s eyes darkened as she looked with horror at his injuries. She took off his shirt and used it to bandage his torso well enough to stop most of the bleeding. She helped him get to his feet and they began hobbling away.

Leaving Wolfe’s body behind, they found their flyer a scant ten meters away. As they approached the flyer, their desperate night of terrors switched gears, yet again.

Thang! Thang! Thang!

They heard Rur coming before they saw the robot thrashing through the jungle undergrowth toward them. Its huge bulk crushed back small trees and broke vines as it floated over the terrain, a single light beam projected from its head. The metallic hulk’s threatening advance, reinforced Gallant and Alaina’s determination to get to the flyer.

When Gallant managed to climb on behind Alaina, they started to ascend. Alaina gave the tiny machine full throttle and maximum lift. The cool night air streamed over their perspiring bodies and they were about to heave a sigh of relief, when their flight was cut short. A laser blast erupted near them, giving them a glancing blast.

Alaina dove down with a suddenness that evoked a yell from her rider. She swooped back down to ground level to hide in the jungle. When her flyer reached the ground, however, Rur appeared right in front of them.

Rur came charging at them. Its arm projected a laser rifle from its fingers. It fired the shots over their heads to keep them from flying away. Its semi-liquid body morphed, becoming as hard and transparent as a diamond while acting as the extension of Aristotle’s will.

They were trapped with the metal monster bearing down on them.

There’s only one chance,
thought Gallant.

He pulled the dark matter containment bottle from his flyer’s satchel. Fumbling for a second, he reached for the control panel and switched off the containment field. The superconducting containment field released all the dark matter particles he had collected over the last weeks. The dark matter radiated out in all directions, spherically dispersing, instantly. Their interaction rate was extremely limited, however, effecting only weak force interactions.

The dark matter didn’t interact with itself, or electromagnetism, or the strong force. It only felt gravity and the weak force. As a result, it passed harmlessly through Gallant and Alaina, but acted like a bomb to the AI machine. As the dark matter passed harmlessly through humans and most other objects, only the hypersensitive memory and processing chip of Aristotle’s core machine were rich in interacting materials. The dark matter particles fried the silicone and germanium memory-wafers in Rur’s and Aristotle’s brain-cells. The chips were destroyed instantaneously, delivering the
coup d'état
to the malevolent machine.

Aristotle, ten cubic kilometers of ancient AI berserker machine, was dead—once again—and forevermore.

Aliana flew to Hallo with Gallant clinging to her waist. After they landed near the Hepburn house, Alaina gathered medical supplies and began cleaning his wounds. She injected a local analgesic and bandaged the injury as well as she could, shaking her head as her emotions boiled over.

“I’m okay,” Gallant consoled her. “It’s over. We’ve won. Aristotle won’t get to exterminate this planet a second time, thanks to you. You’ve been incredibly brave. Don’t give in now.”

“I’m...I’m...everything is so...” She was unable to express the emotional deluge that had finally caught up with her after all she’d faced—all the pain and death she had witnessed.

What more Gallant could have said was interrupted when the house AI communication channel relayed a call from the
Intrepid
for Gallant.

Neumann’s distress message ordered Gallant to return to the
Intrepid
immediately.

“You should have this wound sewn up and bandaged properly before you go,” said Aliana.

“There’s no time. I have to go now,” he said as tenderly as he could, not wishing to leave her alone. She hesitated to let him leave. Despite his worry for her, he recognized her concern was for him.

“I have to go,” he said quietly and kissed her cheek.

It took only a few minutes for him to get back to his Hummingbird and then he was off to the
Intrepid.
The laser-damaged ship was a dismaying sight on his approach.

Walking onto the bridge, Gallant was an odd sight—his civilian clothes were covered in blood, his shirt was torn away from his body, and the large makeshift bandage across his chest was oddly placed. Nevertheless, the bridge team seemed glad to see him.

He focused his attention on LCDR Neumann, who lay on a stretcher beside the captain’s chair. His uniform was cut away from his neck all the way down to his hip, exposing deep raw burns in his flesh. Puss and blood were oozing from distressed tissues and organs. A dozen tubes and wires were attached to his body. His normally handsome features formed a contoured grimace. Mendel was beside him ready to carry him down to the medical center for immediate surgery. When he saw Gallant his faced flashed a look of relief, followed quickly by a look of dreadful resignation.

“The AI machine is dead. I killed it with our supply of dark matter,” reported Gallant.

Neumann didn’t seem to comprehend the full import of Gallant’s report, leaving it a matter to be evaluated at a later date.

“I don’t like this situation, Gallant,” said Neumann.

“I understand, sir, but you’re in no condition to handle this battle,” said Gallant.

“I know. I know. There’s so much to do. I should deal with it, but I’m not up to it right now,” said Neumann with a scowl. He tried to stifle a wave of pain as he collected all his strength to say, “I’m appointing you, acting Captain.”

“I won’t let you down,” said Gallant, looking squarely into Neumann’s eyes.

“See that you don’t,” said Neumann. Despite the pain, he managed to mouth the official words, “Mr. Gallant, is acting captain. Mr. Gallant has command.”

The bridge team heard the command and repeated, “Mr. Gallant is acting captain. Mr. Gallant has command.”

“Okay, Doc, I’m ready now,” said Neumann.

After the irregular change of command, Neumann was carried off the bridge. Mendel immediately prepared his patient for surgery.

With Neumann’s departure, the mantle of responsibility was passed to Gallant.

I’m in command now. I need to get this right.

“Welcome back, Mr. Gallant,” said Chief Howard at his operations station next to the helmsman.

Gallant nodded. He needed to get up to speed immediately on the status of the vital ship operations. Instead of conducting a pre-watch walk-through, he decided to query each of the key watch-standers and gather the critical information.

He looked around the bridge with its fresh laser damage and tried to gauge if any critical stations were inoperable.

“Weps,” said Gallant, referring to Lieutenant Palmer, “range and bearing to the target?”

“Tango-one is a Titan destroyer, ten light-seconds away, bearing one hundred and seventy degrees, azimuth plus five. We’ll be within weapons range in twenty minutes, sir,” reported Lieutenant Palmer.

“Helm, report course and speed,” ordered Gallant.

“Course 110, azimuth up 10 degrees, speed to 0.002c, at time 2203, sir,” said Paul Gregory, the newly qualified helmsman. Though he was young and had learned his station mostly through simulations rather than practical experience, he was eager to do his job.

“Very well, helm,” said Gallant. “Engineering, report.”

The Engineering Officer of the Watch, Lieutenant JG Smith reported, “All sublight engines operating nominally, sir. FTL is off-line due to lack of fuel.”

“Very well, Engineering,” said Gallant, “Weapons report.”

“Lasers and plasma cannon functioning nominally and ready to fire. External racks are armed with four anti-ship nuclear tipped missiles. All sensors report nominal and able to launch, sir,” reported Palmer.

The Titan destroyer was approaching Elysium at full speed, only minutes away from reaching its missile firing envelope, which now also included the ability to target Hallo since the planetary force field was gone.

One of Chief Howard’s men came on the bridge carrying a fresh uniform for Gallant.

“Thanks,” Gallant said, as he quickly stripped off his tattered civvies and pulled on his uniform. He could not suppress a surge of pride standing on the bridge in command of the
Intrepid.

Every face on the bridge was looking at him—eagerly waiting his orders. He surveyed the view screen showing Elysium and its moon on the sunward side of the
Intrepid.
The Titan destroyer was approaching from the outer reaches of the star system traveling at its maximum speed, 0.0022c.

I only have four anti-ship missiles. I’ll have to move fast, avoiding or knocking out his missiles while looking for an optimal shot.

Taking his seat in the captain’s chair in the center of the
Intrepid’s
bridge, Gallant took a deep breath.

The Titan’s most vulnerable point is its bow. I’ve got to hit it head-on.

He ordered, “Come to course 180, azimuth up 15 degrees, increase speed to 0.002c, at time 2226.” This changed course to directly away from the sun and toward the enemy.

“Aye, aye, sir,” responded the helmsman. The crew responded, as always, quick and accurate.

The ship turned toward the enemy, closing the range.

Gallant’s heart raced as the
Intrepid
flew at maximum speed directly into the face of the Titan destroyer.

For ships traveling at a velocity of 0.002c small relativistic effects were produced that the
Intrepid’s
GridScape automatically adjusted for. However, missiles traveled at more troublesome speeds. Missiles traveling at 0.01c produced a 0.00005 spatial contraction and associated time dilation, making maintaining a tracking and firing solution more problematic.

“Weapons, do you have a firing solution on the target?” asked Gallant.

“Firing solution is tracking. Solution is set. Anti-ship missiles one and two locked on target. Four minutes to maximum launch range,” reported Palmer.

Gallant fixed his eyes on the speaker. “I’m going to wait until we’ve reduced distance to fifty percent of maximum, to optimize chances for a hit. Keep me updated as we approach.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” said Palmer.

Gallant hoped the design and manufacture of the anti-missiles would prove successful. The ad hoc anti-ship missiles he and his crew had constructed on Elysium were about thirty meters long with a four-meter diameter. Fully loaded and armed, each weighed forty tons. Each had a multinuclear warhead with an individual warhead capable of tens of megatons TNT equivalent yield. They traveled to target and released decoys and chaff to confuse enemy counter measures. The missiles also traveled an erratic path and conducted broad maneuvers to avoid anti-missile missiles.

“We are one minute from the Titans’ firing envelop, sir,” reported Palmer.

“Very well,” responded Gallant.

He watched as the destroyer grew in the forward view screen covering more stars from view. He glanced at the rate the display icon moved, showing the enemy’s course.

A second later, bursts of powerful engines ignited from the destroyer’s missile pods.

The weapons officer reported "Missile launch. Multiple missiles launched."

“Titan missiles designated Tango-two and three. Seven minutes to impact,” reported the radar-tech.

The alien fired two anti-ship missiles at the
Intrepid.
The Titan anti-ship missiles advanced, seeking to destroy the target with a multiple warhead nuclear burst. Their design was somewhat similar in to the United Planets’ anti-ship missile, about thirty-five feet long with a five-foot diameter. Fully loaded and armed, it might weigh thirty tons. It appeared to have a multinuclear warhead; each individual warhead could have tens of megatons TNT equivalent yield.

The alien missiles began taking countermeasures, releasing decoys and chaff and maneuvering erratically.

Gallant ordered, “Weapons, continuous laser and plasma fire on the anti-ship missiles.”

“Aye, aye, sir. Concentrating port batteries on Tango-two and starboard batteries on Tango-three.”

“Very well.”

The lasers and plasma fire repeatedly struck and damaged the Titan missiles.

One missile made a final radical move to escape the fire, but the
Intrepid’s
weapon team was particularly good at out-foxing the Titan countermeasures and continued scoring hits.

Then, before the destroyer could reload its forward missile launchers, Gallant sat staring at the withdrawing Titan for several minutes, letting his adrenaline level return to a semblance of normal.

The first tremendous shock of the explosions accentuated the grave danger as the nuclear warheads of the first missile went off. Fortunately, the blast passed harmlessly a considerable distance from the
Intrepid.

The second missile exploded closer and sent a shockwave passing right through Gallant’s body. He felt a flood of misgivings. All the manifestations of the violence were clear.

"Damage?" yelled Gallant.

"We've lost 70% of our shields and we've got shock damage," reported Palmer.

The radar-tech reported, “Active systems down, sir, only passive remaining.”