Assault on Ambrose Station: A Seth Donovan Novel (17 page)

25.

Max was first to arrive, naturally, her cabin being only fifteen metres aft of the command module’s access hatch. Fel’negr was next, practically diving into his seat, his hands a flurry across his console. Zoe stayed on the pilots station until Crege managed to limp into the compartment, huffing and wincing in pain. Zoe gave him a concerned look as she climbed out of the seat, but left in a hurry without any questions. I’d trained her well.

“What have we got?” asked Max, “Talk to me guys!”

“Thirty-seven contacts,” came Fel’s reply, “Closest one will intercept in three minutes.”

Ice formed in my belly.
Thirty-seven?
I thought.

“What are they? Give me specs!”

“Unknown. Seth, can you make anything from these?”

Fel flicked the data to my console, and I quickly brought up the readings. Sure enough, I recognised their shape and performance characteristics.

“They’re definitely Ghantri. These are
Cal-toth
drones. They’re usually loaded with a payload and used primarily as smart mines.”

“Mines?” asked Max.

“Our interceptors should be able to take them out, but I’d be more worried about who deployed these.”

“Launch them, I want these taken care of
fast
.”

“Drone bays opened. Interceptors online. Link is good. Launching.”

“Time to contact, two minutes fourteen seconds.” reported Fel.

“Crege, evasive manoeuvres. I want as much time as possible for our interceptors to deal with those mines.” commanded Max.

“Aye, aye,
kitrak!
”

Crege put the ship into a tight barrel roll as he kicked the ship onto our combat thrusters. We felt the gee forces immediately as Crege turned us about and tried to open the distance between the mines and us.

“Fel, I want you on as many sensors as you can. Find me where these Ghantri bastards are hiding, give me options!”

I could tell by his lack of reply that Fel was struggling with the forces against him. He was usually the first to pass out when we hit the really high stuff, something to do with his Orlii physiology, or just a naturally low threshold for gravity, I never asked.

“Captain! Interceptors engaging targets!” I reported. My drone controls were fed through a my interface overlay, augmenting my console’s read outs. I had multiple windows open on my overlay, showing me the sensors of all six of our interceptors. I remembered my briefings on these
Cal-toth
drones. They were usually devoid of any weaponry beyond their payloads, so I was hopeful we would not lose any of our own drones in this defence.

The Ghantri use them to take out transports and supply vessels, being more agile and accurate than missiles. They could be used to target the propulsion of larger ships, crippling them. The Protectorate capital ships of the Push found out the hard way that even a Battlecruiser could not ignore Ghantri drone attacks.

We had lucked out, though. Zoe spotting these before they got too close may have just saved the ship. My only concern now, was that this meant the Ghantri were close. They had set their trap and would lurk nearby to see what they had caught.

I put these thoughts out of my mind and focused on the drones. The enemy contacts were spread about across several hundred kilometres and, while this would allow them to target ships that passed within a larger area, it would allow us to focus our attacks on individual targets. The first drone was easily destroyed as my six interceptors performed an attack run, then they continued towards the next.

In moments three more were destroyed.

“Tac, I need your help.” called Fel, “Filter this scan for composition data. I’ve pulsed a low frequency EM burst, but need the math extracted from the background radiation. “

Running scan through filter algorithms. Processing image.

“Fel, what range are you scanning to?” asked Max.

“Five thousand kilometres.”

“Can you get any further out?”

“Not without using our high power emitters.”

“We don’t want to broadcast our position.” I turned to Max.

“We also don’t want this bastard getting the jump on us.”

“He’ll be stationary, or nearly so. We should have time to react, or at the very least manoeuvre, from five kays away. Even with the best combat thrusters or military grade propulsion.”

“And we’ll see him if he ignites those.” agreed Max, “Flash up the beamer in case. I want to be ready for it when they come.”

“Beamer online. Charging.”

I’d fed a status feed to Max’s console, showing her the condition of my drones, and she was watching the interceptors herself on her own display, so I didn’t need to inform her of how they were doing. They’d destroyed nearly a third of the mines already, but the main body had passed by the interceptors. As the defence drones turned about for another pass, the drones managed to gain on us. It would be close, but the lack of innate defences on these mines was making them easy prey for our interceptors.

“
Kitrak!
” called Crege, “Debris field at green two-four, south three-six!”

“What about it?”

“Most likely play for hunter to wait.”

“Fel, get your eyes on that field.”

“Already on it, Captain!”

“Max, I concur,” I said, “that’s an excellent place for the Ghantri to lie in wait. They force us to turn about and scurry back towards them – they just need to wait until we’re within their weapons range.”

“When will that occur?”

There was silence in the command module.

“Anyone?”

“Sorry, Captain. I’m not familiar with Ghantri weaponry.” apologised Fel.

“Seth?”

“I’m not sure. Depends.”

“Talk to me!”

“If the ship is a pirated vessel, or salvaged, it should have Protectorate weaponry. But if it’s one of their own design it should be close range, but very nasty. Our shields will be useless against them.”

She got on the internal comms. “Cuts, draw power from the shields and give it to the beamer.”

“Is that wise?” I asked.

“Soon as you see him, lance a beam through his hull.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

“Max, Tac’s image from the scan in that region is picking up two possible signatures. One pretty much near where Crege indicated, the other a little further out, but not nearly as clear.”

“A second ship?” she turned to me.

“Unlikely, the Ghantri don’t tend to work in pairs. It’s either solo or war bands.”

“Ignore the second possible, focus on the one in the field.”

“Focusing arrays on contact designated alpha.” reported Fel.

“Crege, get us within weapons range, but don’t make it look like we’ve seen him.”

“Updating beamer ranges now,” I offered, “you should have it on your console, Crege.”

“Do you want me to get close to
calak
or not,
kitrak?
”

“Just get us within weapons range, if he spooks and moves we’ll know we’ve got him.”

“Interceptors beginning second pass!” I called.

“How much lead do we have on those mines?”

48.3 seconds, Captain,
came Tac’s reply.

“Screw it. Crege! Give us all you got, get us in fast on contact alpha.”

Suddenly the ship lurched as Crege put the ship’s thrusters on overdrive. We must have been pushing twelve gee’s easily, because we were definitely feeling it through the inertial stabilisers. I heard a whimper from Fel behind me and I turned my head to see if he was alright. I regretted the motion instantly.

I turned back to my console, slower this time, and brought up my beamer controls.
Tac,
I texted,
can you give me a feed of Fel’s sensor data? If he blacks out I want the beamer to have something to target.

Certainly, Seth.

Information started to populate my console. I quickly closed down information panes that I didn’t need, focusing only on targeting data.

“Beamer within range in seven seconds!” I managed, through clenched teeth. I could hear Fel starting to hyperventilate. I had to take fast, deep breaths as well.

“Cut it, Crege!” called Max, “Coast!”

Instantly the gee forces on us abated, right at the exact moment the beamer got within range.

“Target acquired! Tracking! Solution valid.” I reported.

“Fire!” called Max.

The thrum of the ship’s engines was drowned out by the high pitched whine of the beamer as it cut a deadly swath through space.

“Enemy propulsion detected! Weapons release detected!” called Fel, barely audible above the beamer’s scream.

“Status report!” ordered Max.

“We definitely hit it!” I called, “Fel?”

“Energy burst detected. Unknown damage. Propulsion signature gone.”

“What did they fire at us?”

“Missile! Bringing up data now!”

“Fast!”

“Contact is thirty-four seconds away, on current aspect.”

“Crege! Turn us away, let’s see how the acceleration profile goes. Any indication on missile type?”

“It’s definitely Class 2. Would have been a swarm if it was Class 3.”

I disagreed, “There’s lots of Protectorate ordinance to salvage in these parts, could be a capital ship buster still.”

“Can you target it with the beamer?”

“Maybe. It’s on charge, though. We still have to wait a few minutes.”

“Can we feed power to the beamer again? Speed up the charge?”

“Maybe if we shut down power from Deck 3?”

Max grabbed the internal comms mic again. “Hergo, Denno! Close the airtight hatch to Deck 3, we’re shutting it down! Cuts, when Denno gives the all clear take life support and gravity offline down there and feed it into the beamer.”

“A low power shot should be ready soon.” I said.

“Crege, Fel. Where are the mines?”

“The
kak
are far behind us,
kitrak!
”

“We gained some distance, the interceptors should be able to finish their run now.”

“Tac, can you take over drone controls from Seth? I want him wholly on the beamer this time.”

Feeding drone controls directly through the sensor nexus, Captain.

“Can you hit it, Donny?” asked Max. She hardly ever went informal during action. I turned to look at her, and she had a concerned look on her face. I guess she wanted an honest answer.

“I’m not sure. Its cross section profile is tiny. If it doesn’t move about too much I might have a chance, but the bugger is dipping and juking all over the place.”

“Can you link with the beamer?”

“You mean with my nanites?” I gave her another glance. “Sure, that hasn’t worked out for me so well in the past, though.”

“What’s our distance from the missile?”

Fel answered, “Twenty-one seconds, Crege gave us a few more seconds but it’s entered a boost phase and is now gaining on us.”

“What’s the status of the beamer?”

“Still charging!” I called.

“Thirteen seconds!” called Fel, “Twelve! Eleven! Ten!”

“I’m linking!” I yelled. I gripped my console with my hands and focused inwards. With a rushing sensation, my perception was expanded to encompass the weapon’s sensor data provided by Fel. I felt each circuit and conduit that feeds the beamer. I felt the mechanical mount, the mechanism for aiming it, the feedback of its position to the system. I
became
the beamer. I saw what it saw. I felt the build-up of power as its capacitor banks filled with energy. I needed no gauge to tell me when it was ready to fire, I
knew
.
I
was ready to fire.

With a defiant yell, I unleashed my energy into the reaches of space, directing my fury with a scream towards the approaching missile.

And I missed.

26.

With a gasp, I jerked back, tearing free of the black roots that pulsed from my arms to the console. I was delirious, shell-shocked. Confusion quickly gave way to clarity and my perception refocused on my physical body. In a near panic, I turned to Max to warn her.

They were cheering.

“Wha? What happened?”

“Nice shot!” called Fel, slapping me on the back. Max reached over and hugged me, laughing. Even Crege was chuffing and trilling in delight.

I glanced at my console, wiping a thin sheen of dead nanites from the display. Sure enough, the sensors were reporting the destruction of the missile. I blinked.

Interceptors returning to bays, Captain. All drones destroyed.

“Great work, Tac! Great work, all of you!” said Max, “Let’s get in close to the wreckage and see if there’s anything worth salvaging. Bring us about, Crege.”

“Aye, aye,
Kitrak!”
said Crege with glee.

“That second ghost signal is gone,” reported Fel, “Must have been an echo. Or nothing.”

“Do a more thorough scan to be sure. Tac, give him a hand.” ordered Max.

I sat back and pondered what just happened. Had I been mistaken? Perhaps my beam had glanced it, or gotten close enough to overheat it. I’d been sure I’d stuffed the shot up, though. I saw it juke out of the way at the last millisecond.

“What’s the matter?” asked Max, who was staring at me.

“It’s nothing. Just shaken up by the link up, I guess.”

“Are you okay? How’s the charge levels?”

“Not too bad, actually. Only drained about ten percent that time. The shift in perception just fucks with my head is all.”

“You did well, Donny. Why don’t you go stand down, get a coffee in the Mess? We’ll call if we spot anything.”

“Yeah, alright.” I stood to leave, taking an offered handshake from Fel as I did so. His hands were still clammy and cold, the last vestiges of combat anxiety. “How are you doing, Fel?”

“Good. Relieved.”

“I bet. That was good spotting, you two.” I indicated Crege as well.

“Warrior accepts
Kitrak’s
praise.”

“If you start calling everyone that, you’re going to have to add a number to it.
Kitrak
one
, Kitrak
two etcetera.”

“
Ertak, et ka kurdo,
Kitrak
two
!”
Everyone laughed at that.

As the stress of combat eased and the adrenaline left us, laughter was often the best remedy for fragile nerves. I left the command module and headed down to the mess deck, where Hergo and Denno were opening the hatch down to the forward cargo hold.

“No damage, this time?” asked Denno.

“Yeah, we caught them with their pants down.” I replied, “When you guys are finished there, want to check on the suits? Max will probably send someone EV to check the salvage.”

“There’s salvage?”

“The enemy was almost stationary, should be wreckage for us to pillage.”

“Oh, nice.”

The pair began to converse excitedly in their native tongue. They were right; usually a space combat is over and the victor can only continue on its journey, the wreckage of their adversary simply moving too fast in multiple directions to attempt a salvage op safely. This time was different, as the velocity of the enemy was almost nil, we were sure to find
something
that we could inspect. At the very least, Cut’s would be able to stock up on spare armour plating for future hull repairs. Nanites could only repair so much, before they needed intact plates to weld on, or metallic mass to rebuild.

I hit the auto-chef and dialled up a mug of strong coffee. It was late in the ship day, Zoe and my combined watch shift always was. We usually found it relaxing, quality time together. She was an excellent student and was quickly becoming proficient in handling herself on the bridge. I had no doubt that she would certify for her watch keeping ticket in no time.

I unstrapped a chair from its combat readiness housing and plonked my arse down at a table. It wasn’t long before I was joined by Zoe and Fel.

“Are we going to finish our shift tonight?” she asked.

“You probably will, I’m betting Max will put me on the salvage team.” I said.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” said Fel.

“Why not?”

“The Captain has indicated her reluctance to put you into the team.”

“What? Why for? I’m good to go!”

“I argued for you, I knew you’d react this way.”

“Too bloody right. What did she say?”

“She seemed to take it on board when I mentioned you were the only one among us that has any experience with the Ghantri, that we’d be missing out on critical information if you weren’t the first set of eyes on the wreckage.”

“Okay, and she said?”

“She’d think about it.”

Zoe put her mug down. “Does her reluctance to use you here make you angry?”

I knew she was probing my mental state. I took a moment to answer, thinking about how I felt. “A little. I know she’s only looking out for me, but I really am okay. And Fel is right.”

“So is Max.” he said.

“What did Crege say?”

“He just laughed. Said you’d think it was an affront to your honour.”

“Well, he’s almost right. I know what Max is thinking, as I said. I’m sure that if I went up there and talked to her about it, I should be good.”

“Do you need to go?” asked Zoe.

“Of course.”

“Why? Hergo or Denno have just as much salvage experience as you, Cuts can unbolt just about anything not welded down and he can cut anything that is. Tac can probably function just as well, maybe even better since he doesn’t need life support.”

“It’s like Fel said. I’ve seen these aliens before. I’ve dealt with their tech before.”

“You can still be linked in to their helmet feeds, see what they see on your overlay. There’s no real need for you to be physically present.”

I stared at her, not liking where this was going.

“I’m going.”

“Why?”

Through all this, Fel sat back and observed. He now looked at me. I turned to him for support, but he just shrugged. “Her points are all valid. I see no fault in her logic. I therefore must concede that you do not, indeed, need to be on the team.”

I looked down at my mug of coffee. I could feel my frustration eating away at my emotions. I opened my mouth a few times to speak, but wasn’t sure what I could say to prove my point. I gave up after a couple of aborted attempts.

“Let the others have their day.” Zoe said, and she reached out across the table and clasped my hands in hers as I gripped the mug. I sighed.

“Alright, I’ll sit this one out.” I said eventually. Zoe smiled at me.

“I’ll inform the Captain of your agreeance.” said Fel as he stood up and left.

“Was this some kind of conspiracy against me?” I said, half grinning at Zoe.

“Hey, just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean we’re not out to get you. Especially me.”

“What gives?”

“I think you’ll find from now on, the crew will be more willing to step in where normally you would. We all had a group discussion about it while you were in the brig, back on Eridani Station.”

“Did you now?”

“As your doctor, it was my duty to recommend it. Max was only too happy to oblige.”

“I bet she was.”

“Hey, don’t think badly of her. She cares for you. Deeply. As do I. This is a necessary step in your recovery.”

“Is that my doctor talking or my girlfriend?”

“Should it matter? In my opinion both, are equally important.”

“You’re biased.” That earned me a playful slap on the wrist.

Max ended up sending me to bed. I wasn’t sure how to take this new treatment, part of me didn’t like it, the other part of me recognised why they were doing it.

After the Blade of Xerxes, I’d had nightmares for several nights. I’d woken up many times each night, and Zoe had had to give me medication to help me sleep. I wasn’t sure if I’d slipped backwards in my recovery from post-traumatic stress, as I hadn’t had any more panic attacks, but I was finding it difficult to sleep for a while.

I still had nightmares, they were just slightly more mild now. Mostly I dreamed of the dark, warm seas of data that were so prevalent since taking on the NP implant. This night was no different.

It started as usual, drifting calmly on the dark waters. I found that I was content, where normally I’d imagine fantastic shapes and forms rising out of the ocean. This was the first time that I simply gazed outwards in this dream. The sky, if you could call it that, was the blackness of space, punctuated by billions of specks of light. It took me some time to realise they were the some motes that populated the water. Where I’d thought they were stars, instead they were tiny points of data, aglow in the abyss above me.

My perception changed. The sky was no longer ‘up’ and I lost all sense of direction. It wasn’t that I was confused, but that direction no long held any meaning. The waters and the abyss were the same, I was merely a frame of reference for my wandering perceptions.

Some time passed, before I realised that part of the ‘sky’ was obscured. I could no longer see the millions of specks of light in a third of everything I could see. It was as if a great cloud had materialised. A great, dark cloud, darker than the blackness around me. I began to feel a sense of dread and knew instinctively that this darkness was bad. Slowly, it turned a deep purple towards its centre and I could make out a shape.

It was an eye, gazing down upon me.