Until the Dawn, page 25
"Yes, launch both shuttles!" Norris was saying. "Load pilots and gun crews only. Have both ships use their rail guns to provide covering fire for the F-175 squadron."
"Captain, this is Greg," Fredericks interrupted, grinning for the first time since the crisis began. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but Trey is here and has suggested that we use the retractable CAS arm to break the grappling cables on the shuttle next to us. It's designed to extend a lot farther from the ship than we normally deploy it to keep unpredictable radiation away from the hull during emergency situations." He shook his head at the complete simplicity of the plan as they continued to watch the enemy drift closer. "I'm certain this will work."
"Then do it," the Captain ordered.
"It's not going to go well for them," Greg warned. "Our hull is insulated, but the arm itself is hot. Just to let you know, there could be a lot of casualties on their end…"
"Take whatever action is necessary to keep the enemy from boarding the Waywardsman," commanded Norris decisively. "That is an order."
Greg glanced over at Trey who was already tapping commands into one of the work stations. "I'll handle the CAS arm," he said as he watched the kid type. "I would imagine you're already working on the instability problem with our PTP window."
"It's the dark matter that's causing the problem," Trey said absently as he continued furiously typing commands into his computer. "For some reason there's a lot more of it in this area than we've found in previous locations. We've been trying to figure out how to more quickly identify and chart it down in the Observatory without any luck so far. Trust me; the extra mass from the dark matter in this region of space is what's messing up our computer model, not some sort of jamming field from the enemy ships."
"Dark matter," Greg growled. "I really hate that stuff, you know!"
Trey momentarily stopped typing and took the time to glance at his colleague, smiling widely. "You listened to me! The CAS system is still on-line! An E-Note actually beat me down here for once, didn't it?"
"There's a first time for everything," commented Greg as he began fully unfolding the thin metal arm beneath the Waywardsman's hangar bay. Normally they kept the arm at minimum safe distance but it quickly extended as soon as Fredericks activated its remote control mechanism. The long arm swiveled out to starboard and suddenly he could see brilliant white flashes on the enemy shuttle's hull. The white-hot singularity at the tip of the arm continued to burn furiously. "It's a piece of cake from here," Greg said, noticing idly that he was talking to himself. He folded the outer length of the arm upward and then raised it between the Waywardsman and the approaching enemy. With that done he swept the arm from ship's stern toward the bow, all the way along the length of its fuselage. The flickering light from the still active singularity bathed the alien shuttle in a sinister glow, making it appear even more intimidating.
"Surprise, suckers!" he heard Trey shout.
They both watched the images of the grappling cables on the monitors in front of them snap instantly as the arm continued to move gradually toward the front of the starship and touched them each, one by one. Off the top of his head, Greg could think of at least ten substances that would hold up against the hot jolt of current that currently radiated along the CAS arm. Fortunately for them, the cables were composed of normal metallic ores and thus also functioned as a near-perfect conductor. The entire enemy shuttle briefly lit up with white flashes of electricity as each cable split.
"We're separated, Captain. You can have Aaron begin moving us away!"
"Acknowledged," the Captain replied. At almost the same instant they heard a pair of familiar sounding thuds against the hull.
"Scratch that," Aaron said. "There's still somebody alive and kicking over there, and they're not giving up. They've just fired two more grapplers at us."
"Our hull is insulated, you should expect that at least some of theirs would be," growled Norris. "Get that enemy piece of junk off my ship, Greg!"
"Working on it," he said, adjusting the targeting mechanism on the arm. He swung it back down below the enemy ship and raised it slowly up until it was within inches of touching their hull. The powerful flickering singularity immediately melted through metal while Greg used the control system on his work station to drag the tip of the CAS arm backwards along the bottom of the enemy ship. They watched on their monitors as section after section of the ship depressurized. Several internal explosions rocked the shuttle and he noticed bodies and pieces of glowing debris flying into space. He finished up by repeating the initial maneuver, cutting them loose from the two newly-fired grappling cables. They watched with satisfaction as the enemy ship dipped helplessly forward and began to drift slowly away, completely powerless.
"There's a very good reason we keep that singularity extended away from our own ship," grinned Trey with a nod.
"We're free again Captain," he said. "Unless they transit more shuttles next to us, that is. And the next time they'll try and take the CAS arm out first… that will strand us here."
"You let me worry about that," the Captain replied firmly. "Just get our transit capability back and be ready for action as soon as we recover all support craft."
"We're already on it," Trey promised.
* * *
On the command deck, William continued to issue orders. "Hangar deck, this is Norris. Place six more fighters on active standby and have them ready to launch through the starboard tubes on my order." He heard the acknowledgement and quickly reviewed the motion sensor screen in front of him. The first shuttle was no longer a threat, but the other two transports had moved in closer to try their own luck. One flanked them to port this time, the other flashed out of PTP directly beneath. Obviously the enemy to port was hoping to link up with them as the first vessel had while its counterpart moved close enough for a shot at the CAS wand.
Aaron didn't have to be told – he continued to maneuver the Waywardsman away from the initial attack point, rolling the large starship on its side as he did so. As they moved away with their vulnerable point temporarily protected one of the shuttles ignored the chaotic, ill-aimed fire from its attackers and trained its rail guns on the enemy beneath them. They quickly shot the unprepared ship full of holes… the few lights it had went instantly dark. The other enemy troop transport quickly began backing off as the shuttle immediately turned its attention, and blazing guns, in their direction.
"All support ships, this is Captain Norris. Take all necessary action to prevent the enemy ships from moving within firing range of the Waywardsman." He kept his eye trained on the largest contact representing the attacking mother ship. "Especially that big sucker launching shuttles at us!" he snapped more than a little heatedly.
"Aye, aye Captain," a familiar voice echoed in his ears.
"Liane?" he gasped in disbelief. "Nell Andrews… what the hell are you doing out there? You're supposed to be…"
"Sitting on my ass while our ship is under attack? Not me," she replied. "Besides, these guys aren't half as spicy as their appearance would have you believe. Their weapons have no independent guidance – they're point and shoot desperados… just ducks in our pond."
"But you're… pregnant," said Norris simply, completely ignoring the expression on Melissa's face as she pretended not to notice his. "The G-forces generated by a fighter in flight…"
"…Are not all that bad when you're the go-to gal. The boys are setting me up and I'm knockin' 'em down. There's really been no G-forces for young junior to experience so far," she replied. "Except for that launch tube thing, I guess. Trust me, a mother can tell… Junior didn't mind."
"There are only two enemy fighters left, Captain, and I'm on babysitting duty right next to her," Walter said reassuringly. "The larger vessel is shooting at us, but it's still trying to move into optimum range and they're firing simple projectiles. With our advanced maneuverability their lack of electronic guidance is definitely showing." He sounded a bit disappointed. "You said these guys have been fighting each other for how long?" he asked. "Their R & D must be nearly non-existent… they're no match for rail guns."
Norris said nothing, just glanced inquisitively across his work station toward Aaron. The elder Rem thought for a moment before sharing his thoughts. "They may have been fighting each other for thousands of years, but consider their situation," Aaron suggested. "They are rogues, constantly on the move while trying to locate new planets and asteroids. In all probability they barely have time to set up shop and satisfy their resource needs before an enemy suddenly shows up to attack the sun and thereby deprive them of everything. Just keeping their equipment functioning and feeding the troops is probably their biggest challenge. Not exactly the type of environment you'd expect to find sophisticated electronic computer systems developed in."
"Command, this is Shuttle Corona. The last troop transport is on the run. They know we've got them out-gunned and they're running for their lives."
"At the very least disable their Point-to-Point capabilities," Norris ordered. "If they get desperate enough they may try and transit into the Waywardsman. We need to buy more time for Greg and Trey to plot us an escape route." He glanced at his Delta screen and noted the mother ship continuing its brazen approach. "That goes for you fighter hotshots also. Two of you take out the remaining fighters and the rest of you disable that big SOB. He may decide to transit right into us, too!"
"Would they really use that tactic?" Melissa asked. "It's unthinkably sinister…"
"We used it!" Norris snapped, a little too sharply. He turned and glanced apologetically at her. "Sorry LT… my nerves are completely frayed. Granted there weren't any living people on that wreck of a ship we used against the Brotherhood but you never know what these guys will decide." He shook his head. "They located us and attacked with their closest ship. I would be very pleasantly surprised if they don't already have reinforcements on the way. I'm trying to think like them – my strategy in that role would be to disable us any way possible. That way their friends can find us and capture our new weapons and technology, which they'll use to raise the stakes in their private little war."
"You pilots watch yourselves," Greg cautioned from his seat in the Lab wing. "The mother ship contains a very large power source. They may have weapons they haven't shown us yet."
"You think?" Liane replied sarcastically.
* * *
Out in the middle of the primary action, Walter 'Lightning' Douglas piloted his F-175 at top speed toward Liane's distant signal. He was closely followed by the remaining two enemy fighters, both shooting wildly at him in an attempt to disable his engines. Despite the temptation to laugh at their lack of maneuverability he had not so far. It had been his experience that underestimating an opponent was the quickest way to die in battle. If they were shooting at you they could hit you, and in the end that was all that mattered, really.
He continued to spot occasional fluorescent traces of discharged bullets flying past his cockpit, so he knew that both fighters were in hot pursuit. Liane's fighter was facing away from them and she was traveling a lot slower, allowing the three ships to catch up with her almost immediately. At the last second before he passed her he saw her maneuvering thrusters activate. The fighter instantly spun around to face the approaching enemy targets, its rail guns firing. Walt watched one of the enemy targets on his motion sensor console fragment and vanish. Five seconds later he spun his own ship around and shot down the remaining fighter.
"Waywardsman, this is Siren. All enemy fighters are down," he heard Liane report with undisguised satisfaction.
"Commander of the Corona breaking in," stated a new voice calmly. "The remaining transport cruiser has transited back to the mother vessel. I think they're planning a new strategy."
The 'new strategy' became immediately obvious as the monstrous mother ship fired up its engines and began moving forward. With its shuttle leading the way, both ships began shooting in unison as they continued their pursuit of the Waywardsman. The mother vessel had taken a series of missile hits from the other four attacking F-175s, but it had quickly shrugged them off and continued ominously forward, fires still burning from several of the targeted impact points. Rail gun fire from the Ranger, the second shuttle, slowed its progress some but not nearly enough to please Liane.
"They're preparing to RAM," Liane reported warily. "I don't think they have PTP capability any longer but they're faster than you are, Captain. It looks like they're going to try and run you down."
"Acknowledged," Norris replied. "We've got six more fighters standing by for launch but I'm leaving them on hold status. Greg and Trey have just sent a Canary Probe through a small PTP window to our emergency escape destination and they are reporting that everything is working fine. Your six fighters are cleared for immediate landing in our forward hangar bay. We're getting the hell out of here as soon as you're all aboard."
"Captain, Lighting and I are in perfect position to intercept and we've both got a missile left. Request permission to confront the enemy…"
"Permission denied, Captain Andrews," snapped Norris. "The Corona and the Ranger will provide covering fire until you land. Then they'll use the hangar bay's rear entrance to dock with us. We need all support ships aboard and secure before we can PTP so get your butts in gear." There was a pause as Walter listened, and he used the opportunity to bring his fighter back alongside Liane's. Ahead of them the other four F-175s had already passed in front of the Waywardsman and were turning to land. "Trust me, Liane," the Captain said reassuringly. "I'm watching Trey' clock very closely." Walter knew she was tempted to continue the attack but he also knew her, and thus the decision that she would inevitably make.
"Waywardsman hangar control, this is Siren. You've got two more F-175s ready to land, so get those other boys out of our way the instant they're down."
"Copy that... and welcome home, Captain."
"Now that part has always bothered me," Walt decided as both he and Liane also circled around in front of the Waywardsman and prepared to land. "If your rank is a Captain and his rank is also a Captain…"
"…How come I'm not a head honcho the same as him?" she guessed before frowning slightly. "Since you like reading, Walt, may I suggest that your next choice be the 'Project Waywardsman Charter' that was written several years ago," she suggested. "I think you'll find it quite complex and extremely boring. It specifically outlines the authority that each role we fill is entitled to while assigned to this project, regardless of previous rank." She laughed uproariously. "I'm a Captain out here, with you. But inside that ship I'm just another average James."
* * *
"Trey, you've got exactly ninety-two seconds left," Norris stated informatively, watching the enemy ships grow closer. "Then we have no choice but to transit whether the Canary Probe is back on our side of the window or not. Most of the larger ship's forward guns are down, but they'll still be able to damage us easily enough once our own shuttles cease fire."
"Hold on tight," the young scientist requested from his station down below. "The Canary Probe is scheduled to return in seventy-six seconds. That should beat your deadline."
The remaining enemy troop transport had dropped back and was now trailing its mother ship, having taken heavy fire from the two combat shuttles. Both the Ranger and the Corona were easing slowly into the Waywardsman's rear hangar bay, their rail guns continuing to shoot until the very last second at the pair of approaching targets. Hating every second of the seemingly endless wait, Norris tapped the pen he was holding repeatedly on his Delta laptop – the dark mass of the monstrous enemy ship was so very large now on their overhead monitors and growing closer with each passing second. Melissa reached over and calmly took the pen away from him. The attempt to cheer him up failed as he continued to watch the seconds tick by.
"That's it, Trey," he said into the Comm-link. "I can't wait any longer…"
"As promised!" he heard the younger Rem shout from somewhere down in the Lab wing. "Here it comes!"
The Canary Probe roared out of the open PTP window beneath the Waywardsman at nearly 100 kilometers per second. It adjusted its course only slightly, since the enemy ship was now so close there was virtually no way to miss it. Trey kept his work station's remote control crosshairs firmly planted on the bottom of the mother ship's hull – and the vehicle-sized device impacted firmly into it dead center. Although it contained no explosives, the mass of the Canary Probe was extremely sizable and – combined with its high velocity – it proved to be a very effective, unexpected weapon against the hostile enemy.
"They wanted to ram us… we just beat them to the punch," Norris said darkly as the enemy vessel veered awkwardly away from them, now critically damaged. The remains of the Canary probe emerged from the top of the ship in a glowing comet-like tail of fire. The hulking mother ship flashed harmlessly by above them as Aaron fired their dorsal thrusters and sent the Waywardsman plunging down and away from it. They had no chance to witness anything further as Greg quickly expanded the PTP window beneath them so that it surrounded their own starship. In a flash of victory, they vanished, leaving behind four ships – one large and three small – burning brightly in space.
