Rebel Fleet (15 page)

“Ra-tikh wants to know why we’re sitting on our butts, Chief,” Gwen said.

I glanced at her. She was afraid, I could tell that. We’d fought an enemy ship at insanely close range, and we’d lived somehow. But that was no reason to think we could pull off that kind of stunt again.

“Launch every wasp we have,” I told Mia. “Aim at that breach in their hull. Blow it open.”

“Missiles away!”

“Now, we’re going to have to swing under her, to get to that belly she’s hiding. We’re going to have to put our gun to that hole in her gut, and you’re not going to miss, Mia.”

“Get me closer!” she shouted, all excitement and killer-instinct again.

I had to wonder if this was why most Rebel fighters were flown by carnivores. Maybe only they had the right reactions—even before formal training.

Ra-tikh’s fighter, piloted by Dalton with smoothness that belied how green he was to this sort of thing, followed me precisely.

Hammerhead
was much easier to fly than any Earth-based fighter I’d ever flown, of course. That was part of the story. In this ship, we had many technological advantages over the comparatively primitive aircraft of my home world.

But skill couldn’t be ignored. Dalton had that skill, and he’d displayed it effortlessly. Sure, the control systems were so simple a child could spin one of these fighters around a goalpost, but you still had to have the guts and the steady nerve required to do it.

We swooped over the bigger ship, then dived low.

The crew aboard the phase-ship knew what we were up to. There was never any doubt. The ship spun, trying to keep her wounded side away from us.

But we spun faster. The wasps bobbed and weaved until they found their target and bloodied her further.

But the kill-shot didn’t come until Ra-tikh’s gunner and Mia unloaded their cannons simultaneously into the exposed guts of the enemy.

The fan-tail seemed to fall off the bigger ship. That was the first clue that we’d done catastrophic damage to her.

I was already retreating, catching splashes of defensive fire on the shielding Samson had diverted to face the enemy. Fortunately, phase-ships didn’t seem to have much in the way of supporting weaponry. They had a big gun that could nail a carrier, and a phasing system that could hide them from their enemies. That was about it.

She blew up shortly thereafter, sending plumes of gas and colorful fire into space. These existed only briefly before fading into a haze of dust and background radiation.

My crew yelled out in victorious cheers that rang inside
Hammerhead
, and I joined them. They clapped my back, and they grinned, and they shouted things I couldn’t even hear.

That’s when I knew we’d gelled all the way through. We’d become a functional unit. Come what may, this tiny crew was going to fight together as a single, coherent force from now on.

=25=

We returned to the limping carrier in a good mood. Our laughter and boasting soon died as we got close enough to
Killer
to take a good look at her.

The carrier was damaged internally. Cracks in the external hull leaked a constant frosty breath of valuable gases.

“Are the bulkheads all blown?” Mia asked in concern. “They should have had the venting under control by now.”

“Maybe they’re all dead—the crew, I mean,” Dr. Chang suggested.

No one spoke as we closed in and swung around to see the open hangar bay. Inside, the lights were still on. A mix of debris and stiff bodies floated everywhere.

Some of the spacers wriggled toward us in their suit jets. We were glad to see that a few had survived.

“Blake,” Shaw’s voice spoke in my headset, startling me. “You’re approaching
Killer
without orders or authorization.”

“We knocked out the phase-ship, Lieutenant. We tried to report, but couldn’t get through. We thought we’d come back here and help out with the clean-up.”

“You knocked out the phase-ship?” he demanded. “You were supposed to wait for the rest of the squadron.”

“I know, sir, but we thought she might phase out again after we stumbled upon her.”

“Send me your automated logs,” he ordered.

“Just a second.”

I nodded to Samson, who uploaded the requested electronic documents. Vid files, readings and computer assessment reports. Fortunately, most after-action reports were done by machine in this service.

Shaw didn’t trust me, naturally enough. Only a month or two ago my crew had hit an officer over the head and attempted to flee back to Earth. Now, we were essentially claiming to be heroes that had just saved everyone’s hide. That sort of thing had to be checked out in order to be believed.

There was a delay as Shaw was no doubt perusing our documentation. At last, he came back onto the channel.

“Unbelievable. You went above and beyond, Blake. I knew you had potential, but I didn’t think it would show up like this.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Come aboard.
Killer
is stable enough for now, but she’s badly damaged. You’ll have to use your own suits for life-support.”

“That seems clear, sir.”

He disconnected, and I went back to the task of piloting my tiny ship into a maelstrom of wreckage. The floating debris we had to dodge and brush aside wasn’t dangerous as long as we kept our pace to a crawl. Eventually, I found my way to our berth.

Guiding my ship the last few dozen yards with spurts from her maneuvering jets, I managed to ease
Hammerhead
into her cradle again.

We climbed out of our fighter with our personal life-support gear sealed. There was no one to greet us, other than junk and corpses. The surviving yard people and crews were all busy cleaning up their own messes.

The hangar was dark for the most part. Shuffling and using my boot magnetics, we had to work to keep from kicking up a cloud of obscuring dust and filings. My crew followed me at a safe distance.

“Looks like this battle is over, Chief,” Samson said. “I’m not sure if we won or not, though.”

“Me neither,” I said, looking at the devastation.

We’d driven off the Imperials, but the cost had been high. According to the data Gwen had gathered, we’d lost half of
Killer’s
fighters and plenty of regular crew as well.

Worse, the ship itself was in shambles. She could be repaired, I supposed, but it would take time.

Shaw summoned me to the command deck about an hour later. I welcomed the opportunity to take a break. We’d all been working to sort out the mess on the hangar deck, which still didn’t have artificial gravity or life support. The big bay doors were hanging open to space, and fighters straggled in now and then to land.

Those doors made me nervous. I wasn’t used to working out in the open with the yawning expanse of space looking over my shoulder. It was dark out there, and I felt like another phase-ship could pop up and nail us at any moment.

Crossing the hangar deck in clanking magnetic boots, I reached the elevators and rode them up to the command level. I’d only been up here once or twice, and each time it had been to receive a reprimand.

This time was different. Shaw beckoned me to enter his office and sit down.

“Wasn’t this Commander Tand’s office a few hours ago?” I asked him.

“That’s right. As his second, I moved up a notch. Your action today helped cinch that gain.”

I looked at him thoughtfully. I wasn’t sure if he was grateful or viewing me as a possible threat. With these Kher officers it could go either way.

After eyeing me coldly for a time, he smiled. “You helped me out, so I’m going to offer you a temporary alliance.”

Blinking, I didn’t respond. I didn’t know where this was going.

“No answer, eh?” he asked, leaning back. He nodded. “I knew you were a cagey man. A primate, through and through. You worry me, Blake. Your kind tends to make it to the top all too often. But I’m warning you, if you think you can plant a blade—”

“Stop worrying,” I told him. “I’m new here. All I did was fight to keep
Killer
in one piece. How else were any of us going to survive?”

He nodded slowly. “That’s true. But you have to understand that in the Rebel Fleet most Kher would rather not be the first ones to take a huge risk. They tend to hang back in battle.”

“Not Ra-tikh,” I said.

“No, his kind are different. Cats have their own sense of honor. It’s more important to them than survival, I think. They’d rather die than be shown up by a rival. It’s unfortunate, but they tend to get themselves killed frequently by dueling for petty glory.”

“You mentioned an alliance?” I asked.

“Yes. Here’s the deal: I’ll put you on the fast-track to becoming an ensign. All I need is for you to keep delivering me victories in space.”

I almost laughed, but I managed to control myself. This guy really thought I was a chump. But then again, maybe such a ham-handed offer would work on most Kher. Maybe he really expected it to work on me.

“I don’t know,” I said, as if I was seriously considering his offer. “You’re telling me to take action now for a promise of action on your part later. But I’ve already helped you. What are you going to do for me right now?”

A low growl rumbled out of his throat. “Are you refusing to accept my generous offer?”

“I’m asking for details, that’s all.”

He looked annoyed, and I pretended I couldn’t care less what he said next. That was easy to do, since I wasn’t really seeking a promotion.

“All right,” he growled. “I’m making you an ensign, right now. You’re getting a silver line. But you owe me. You haven’t accumulated enough status points to earn this on your own. I’ll have to put all my weight behind it because you’re so junior.”

“Did any other fighter pilots knock out an enemy vessel?”

“No,” he admitted.

I shrugged. “Well then, you’ve got no one else to reward, and plenty of dead crews to replace. I accept your offer, Lieutenant.”

“Excellent. Now, let me show you something of the bigger picture, Ensign.”

He caused the walls of his office to light up. They all could function as one big screen if you wanted them to. A blackness closed over us, broken up by pinpoints of bright light. Near at hand were the local planets.

“Red dwarfs like this local star are the most common type in this region,” he said. “We were coming here to pick up another fighter crew made up of fresh recruits, like yours.”

He zoomed in as he spoke, choosing a small patch of the back wall. His fingers spread, and the image magnified sickeningly. I could tell this was a perception system, working like the way my sym-link operated aboard
Hammerhead
, only better. The image was more precise, and the range seemed to be greater.

He zoomed in toward the second planet from the central sun, a cool lump of gray rock that circled the glowing ember. I watched as he penetrated the clouds, then sailed over the landscape beneath.

All around us, the walls of the office lit up with a rusty orange light. The terrain of the planet wrapped completely around the room. It was like standing inside of a globe with squared-off corners.

We saw the world from the perspective of the clouds. There were pockmarks in the terrain below us. I stared at them, knowing instantly what I was seeing.

“Cities?” I said. “The Imperials wiped out this world?”

“They did. There were few survivors, mostly from the rural regions. The enemy must have done this recently, because we didn’t get a warning from our probes. Instead, when we arrived to gather recruits, we were ambushed.”

I stared at the land. It looked cratered. I could see lines connecting the craters.

“Are those roads?”

“Yes. Broad highways and waterways.”

“Why are the cities sunken in, rather than burnt?”

“That’s a signature effect of gravity bombs,” he said soberly. “They momentarily increase the localized gravitational pull of a region. That crushes a city into itself, destroying everything. All of a sudden, you find yourself weighing ten times more than you weighed a moment before. Then the buildings collapse and crush what’s left of you.”

It sounded like a grim way to die, but then, I couldn’t think of a pleasant path to death right then.

“How many people?” I asked.

“We don’t take a regular census,” he said, “but estimates put the total at three billion Kher lost. We’re picking up a few crews now, hopefully they’ll be eager to fight when they finish their training.”

He looked up and caught my horrified expression as I studied the walls of his office.

“They weren’t primates,” he said, “if that’s any consolation.”

It wasn’t. All I could think of was potentially seeing Earth’s cities pulverized in this fashion. Rome, Tokyo, New York—all turned into instant graveyards sprinkled over the planet.

We talked quietly for a time about the battle and the aftermath. He gave me a short lecture on phase-ships that was mostly full of information I already knew.

Then, at last, Shaw grunted and tapped in my new rank. The insignia on my shoulder transformed in shape and color. I now wore silver lines, rather than gold points, on my epaulets.

Just like that, I was an ensign, second class.

When I got back to my crew, they were astonished to see my new rank insignia.

“I thought for sure they were going to lock you up for risking valuable hardware,” Samson said. “That’s how things tend to go around here.”

I shook my head. “Not today. They lost a lot of people. Nearly half the carrier’s complement died.”

“One phase-ship did so much damage?” Dr. Chang asked. “It’s a wonder the enemy builds anything else.”

“I don’t know how difficult those ships are to produce,” I said, “but this one had a hard time escaping. I suspect they are weak and slow. Only their stealth makes them effective.”

“It’s enough,” Gwen said. “One punch almost took out
Killer
.”

“Shaw told me that this was an unusual battle,” I continued. “Our carriers weren’t protected by screening ships because our brass didn’t think we’d run into the enemy yet. Normally, the phase-ships wouldn’t be able to ambush us like that.”

“They must have had inside information,” Gwen said suspiciously. “How else would they know exactly where and when we would jump into this system and be lying in wait for us?”

Her idea wasn’t too far-fetched, but I simply didn’t know enough about this war and the technology on both sides to guess if she was right or not.

“Let the commanders figure it out,” I said. “Shaw said we were to shove all the fragments that could be recycled into the refabrication vents. The rest of it goes out the bay doors. Then they’ll shut the hangar up again.”

“Next time it opens,” Samson said, looking at deep space warily, “I hope we’ll be receiving a complete squadron.”

I reflected how quickly we were taking on the Rebel cause for our own. It only made sense now that we had a more complete picture of the situation around our home star.

Earth was only one tiny planet among millions. We’d built a relatively advanced civilization, but there were plenty more in the cosmos where that came from. What mattered was the level of threat Earth faced.

All my life, I’d wondered about the stars and who might live out there among them. But I’d never thought it likely I’d learn the truth.

I’d always envisioned a visitation to Earth as hopeful and positive. I’d imagined aliens that were benevolent and friendly, perhaps arriving with solutions for humanity’s ills. I’d never thought they’d come as the engine of our destruction.

But the truth was a harsh surprise. We’d met up with a vast empire facing another, even bigger, empire with both locked in mortal combat. They’d pressed a few of us into service, but no one actually expected us to do much.