Torian Reclamation 3: Test of Fortitude (29 page)

“What? What do you see?”

“Isn’t this one of those big alien footprints?”

“Looks like it, yes.”

Alan thought for a moment. That meant the horned aliens had been inside this cave, and knew it didn’t lead into the mountain. Something didn’t feel right. Alan absentmindedly held the quarner stone on his necklace through his shirt as he considered the situation.

“It’s a trap,” he blurted.

Several minutes later, he and Kayla emerged from the cave.

“Jumper, Shaldan, come here,” Kayla said.

They both ran over.

“I can hear them coming now,” Jumper said. “From both directions. The ones following us have cleared the peaks, and there’s two or three more coming directly from the east on this side.”

“Listen!” Kayla pointed at Alan. “Listen to what Alan says now, everyone.”

One of the unique features of the new Torian
Interstellar Transport Fighter 2
was the placement of a third seat in the cockpit. It wasn’t meant to be something of permanent use, as it folded into the wall of the corridor to stay out of the way of the two regular pilots. As one might suspect, the third pilot seat wasn’t tremendously comfortable. Brandon was reminded of the fold-down bulkhead seats stewardesses sat on during landings and take-off on the passenger jets of Earth. But comfort was the last thing on Brandon’s mind at the moment.

“I’m open for suggestions on the best way to get close enough,” Brandon said. “As long as we actually
get
close enough. We need to be within 50 kilometers.”

“That’s …pretty close,” said the Amulite in the pilot-2 seat. His name was Borsk7. He was supposedly a good gunner, and had seen some action in the enemy attack on Tora five years ago. Borsk7 was small for a Torian native, thin and on the short side with bright silver skin. This was in stark contrast to his partner sitting next to him in the pilot-1 seat, a large bronze Banorian by the name of Lut5.

“I know,” Brandon said. “Well within effective laser range. That’s why we need to get this done before any shooting starts.”

Lut5 spoke. “They don’t yet know we possess a vessel with a virtual dag, so that should buy us some time when we pop in amongst them. They’ll probably mistake us for one of their own, at least for a few precious seconds. How long do we need?”

“It depends on the radiogenic emissions from their craft.” Brandon shook his head as he spoke. “Maybe seconds, maybe minutes. We’ve never had a chance to study one of their ships.”

“Let’s hope it’s not minutes.” Lut5 engaged the hover engines and lifted the ITF2 just as the hangar doors began to open. They moved across the deck and fired the main thruster. The transition from hovering to thrust was as smooth as Brandon had ever felt. He realized he was in the company of skilled pilots. That didn’t stop him from having a sudden severe desire to be the one flying. But he had no cause to relieve Lut5. That would be foolish. And he had an important job to oversee.

They came out and swung around to the front of their transport ship, where they slowed to a near drift. Brandon knew the flight crew on his bridge would appreciate seeing them there.

Brandon pointed to his left. “Ease us out into the no man’s land between us and the Azaarian fleet. Not too far. That’ll be a good place to plot our maneuvers.”

“We’ll be coming in from the wrong direction,” Lut5 said as he positioned the ITF2 accordingly. “And we’ll have to use manual dag plotting from this short distance.”

“That’s no good.” Brandon studied the dark enemy’s formation. “So we’ll dag out to the far side of Dirg first, and then come back in from a more conforming angle.”

Lut5 nodded. “Should we try to sneak up behind them then, and stay in their rear?”

“No,” Brandon said. “They’ll be watching that. Let’s see. Where should we infiltrate them? How about that sparse area near the top of their far right? It’s a decent hole. They have only two or three squadrons beyond it, nearest to the Dirg front. Those must be the cowboys with itchy trigger fingers. See where I mean?”

Lut5 pinpointed a spot on his targeting screen. “There, Commander?”

“No. Let me show you.” Brandon leaned forward and adjusted the local destination target. The red blip blinked in a new place. “There.”

“That’s a good spot,” Borsk7 said. “The lower turret gunner will have the bulk of the enemy position below him within easy firing range. We can get those directly in front of us with the cockpit lasers. And the squadrons to the right will make nice targets for our missiles with only a slight turn. The REEP gunner can protect our rear reasonably well there, too.”

Brandon had to smile listening to the enthusiastic young gunner. Borsk7’s tactical assessment was good, but the success of their foray depended more on staying out of a skirmish than on engaging the enemy with optimal weapons allocation. Still, Brandon didn’t want to discourage Borsk7. His calculations might end up being what brings them back alive.

“Only if we have trouble,” Brandon said as he patted Borsk7 on the shoulder.

“Of course. That’s what I meant, Commander. Should we find ourselves in need of …defensive actions.”

Brandon pointed back to the local dag plotting screen.

“Set it, Lut5. There’s our arrival point, from a two-leg approach. Pick a random place on the far side of Dirg for the first stop. Alert the rest of the crew. Borsk7, get the mine targeting program active.”

“It’s active, waiting for a mark objective. The small screen above my left knee. Commander, I’m getting a communications request from the command ship now.”

“Ignore it. Are we ready?”

“The crew’s been briefed,” Lut5 said. “We’re ready.”

“Go.”

The planet Dirg distorted and stretched out before them as a square shape, and then condensed to a globe again behind them. Yellow lights in the cockpit came on. Lut5 turned the ship. They were now on the other side of Dirg, just outside orbital range. An opening in the cloud cover below revealed a circular land mass. No, wait. The continent became fuzzy and was replaced by ocean. Brandon found himself blinking at it. That was strange.

“Are the distortion drive indicators working properly?” Brandon asked.

Lut5 checked several instruments as he continued to adjust the angle of the ship. “Yes, Commander. All systems functioning properly. Final destination now aligned.”

“Take us in.”

A few seconds later, the yellow lights came on again. Dirg was now smaller and off to their right, behind a massive formation of spaceships. Brandon looked outside the cockpit window. The fiery virtual dag around them was beginning to fade.

There they were: enemy ships, everywhere. Brandon and his ITF2 crew were in the midst of them. The closest were below and to their left.

Borsk7 spoke. “The mine targeting screen has multiple fixes, Commander.”

“Take the first three,” Brandon said. “Lock and analyze.”

“Done,” Borsk7 replied. “Most threatening targets identified by the ship’s computer and being fed to all weapons stations.”

Brandon took another look at Borsk7. This kid was good.

Brandon then turned to the mine targeting screen. It was laid out as a regional map, showing the ship’s immediate surroundings. The blips on the screen all around them were enemy vessels. They were close. Should the enemy notice them and decide to engage, they were within easy laser and missile range of at least a dozen fighters. This was a bit insane.

Three of the blips on the targeting screen were now highlighted in red with circles around them. The circles were a faint overlay that displayed the progress of the target identification process. The progress was indicated by the circle filling in with a slightly darker shade of red in a clockwise direction, like a pie chart with the piece of pie continually growing. When the whole pie filled, they will have captured the data they needed. One of them was already 25% full.

Brandon realized they were on the verge of success. The radiogenic emissions of the enemy were being properly gathered. It was happening quickly, too—but extat, it still seemed too damn slow.

A third of the fastest-filling circle was now complete. Brandon couldn’t take his eyes off it.

“Commander!” Lut5 said in a panic. “A bogey on our left is turning towards us.”

“I can get them,” Borsk7 said. “Shall we turn and defend?”

The circle Brandon was fixated on wasn’t quite half full yet. If they began an engagement now, they might not complete the data gathering process.

“Negative,” Brandon said. “Fire our dag back up.”

“Destination?” Lut5 asked.

“No destination. We’re not dagging out. Just fire the ring. Do it now!”

Borsk7 spoke again, rapidly. “Two of them now, Commander. Both turned towards us and are slowly approaching.”

“The dag is fired,” Lut5 said.

Brandon strained his neck to see behind him as much as he could. It was difficult, because the cockpit window was made to see forward. But he could make out the reflections of a ring of fire around the hull of their ship now. The dag was re-lit. To the enemy, it would appear they were about to dag out. Would any of the dark fighters take a pot shot? Brandon was hoping beyond hope they would not be able to positively identify them as an enemy target and stay temporarily confused. Temporarily should be all they need.

“They turned back,” Borsk7 said. “No weapons fired. But the dag ring seems to be interfering with data collection.”

Brandon looked back to the mine targeting screen. The three circles were all blinking and making much slower progress. The most complete reading was still only a little more than half complete.

“Cool the dag again, Lut5.”

“You got it.”

Lut5 turned off the virtual dag ring and the circles on the mine targeting screen stopped blinking. Progress resumed.

“We only need another thirty seconds or so by the looks of this,” Brandon said.

“Enemy ships coming at us again,” Borsk7 said. “Five this time.”

“Wait,” Brandon said. “Just wait a few seconds.”

“I’m detecting weapons systems locking on us!” Borsk7 shouted. The fullest circle was now about 75% done.

“Fire the dag ring again! No destination! But plot a point out of here!”

“Yes, Commander.”

Brandon turned to Borsk7. “Stay ready. If they fire, roll away and tell the REEP gunner to blast them as we go.”

“Good enough,” Borsk7 replied.

“Dag lit again,” Lut5 said. “They’re turning again! No weapons fired! Erob, this is some kind of crazy game we’re playing.”

“We’re confusing them,” Brandon said. “But that will probably be the last time. They don’t recognize us, and aren’t aware that any other race possesses a virtual dag. But our ship doesn’t look Azaarian. I imagine it will only take them another minute to decide we’re an enemy vessel.”

Brandon saw that the mine targeting systems were stuck again.

“Cool the dag. Next time we light it, we’ll be dagging out to your destination, Lut5.”

“Yes, Commander.”

But when the dag cooled this time, a laser fired in front of their ship.

“Shot across our bow, Commander.”

“We’ve almost got it,” Brandon said. He intensely focused his energy on the screen above Bork7’s knee, attempting to help bring the task to completion by employing every last whit of his will. One of the mine marks was nearly finished. Only a sliver left to fill in the pie.

“Another shot across our bow, closer! Too close, Commander!”

“Local thrust! Go, Borsk7!”

Brandon’s command hadn’t left his lips before the ship turned and dove from their position. The cockpit suddenly became hot.

“Direct laser hit on our hull,” Borsk7 said.

But then it stopped. A subdued sonic boom came through the ship’s cabin. Brandon glanced at the rear view screen. Several enemy ships exploded.

“The REEP gunner got them, Commander. What now?”

Brandon looked at the mine targeting screen. The fullest circle was 97% complete but blinking yellow. That meant it lost its connection. One of the original three was still connected, but it was only 50% full. Extat!

“Fly and fight!” Brandon said. “Stay local! Make your way toward Dirg—I’ll try to cross-reference the data on another vessel.”

“You got it. Staying local, Commander.”

The ship dove again sharply. Brandon fell forward. As he did, he noticed an enemy laser firing just above the cockpit window. The ship then rolled. Brandon wrapped his arms around Borsk7’s legs to hold himself.

The two pilots were now firing weapons and reporting their hits.

“There’s one. Got one. There’s another. Good shot!”

Brandon’s face was still in front of the mine targeting screen. He straightened himself out so he could get at the controls, keeping one arm around Borsk7’s left leg. He only played with the cross-reference feature once in the simulator and hoped he could remember it. They were now out of range of the last locked enemy vessel. That circle blinked out at two-thirds full, but the system was showing a plethora of available new marks. Brandon canceled the two least complete processes and chose three new nearby enemy fighters to analyze.

The process began again and three new circles started filling. But Brandon didn’t plan on trying to wait them out this time. There was a way to cross-reference the data with the 97% complete one. How did that work? He fooled with the buttons, did the wrong thing twice, and then remembered the function.