In Search of the Uldans, page 25
part #2 of Galactogon Series
“What? Why? Did you find a bug in our hardware?” I began to fret about the money I had just spent.
“Yes, but not in ours,” said the snake and began explain the problem to me.
“Brainiac, head for Belket. Request permission for landing at the Hansa HQ.”
By the time we held our meeting with the Precians, Brainiac and the engineer had rendered a model of the 5bn GC torpedo launcher and isolated the flaw in the prototype. It turned out that having their own shields, the torpedoes became like nimble fighters, which could be easily neutralized with EM cannons—otherwise useless in a fight against conventional torpedoes. If you fried the high-tech torpedoes’ electronics, they would become nothing more than tubes of explosives tumbling in space. Instead of testing our theory in practice and risking the orbship we hurried back to Belket to get Hansa’s confirmation.
“Indeed, such a problem exists,” admitted the engineers. “But it will be solved in the immediate future. We have obtained a Zatrathi scout, which can resist electromagnetic pulses. We will present the solution and upgrade the system. We take pride in the quality of our products and want them to be the best the market.”
“I see. I will wait a bit to purchase this system then. One more question. What will happen to a torpedo that is hit by an EM pulse?”
“It will explode. We do not want our designs to find their ways to third parties. If the torpedo loses control, it self-destructs.”
“And your customers know about this?” I asked the most important question.
“If the buyer asks a question before purchase, he receives a complete answer,” the Precian pursed his lips, unwilling to answer openly.
“And do many buyers ask questions?”
The Precian considered for a long time whether he should continue this conversation or not.
“No. But those who have encountered this problem after purchase receive good compensation and continue to use the launcher system with no complaints!” He admitted the obvious. Hansa had buttered up those who could ruin its reputation. But who will start carving the goose that laid the golden eggs?
“Last question, and it concerns a customer. Does Captain Aalor know about this malfunction?”
“Captain Aalor is not one of our customers,” the Precian frowned. “If he has one of our weapons systems, it means that he purchased it through an intermediary on the secondary market. This is not forbidden, but such equipment has no warranty and is not updated. May we assist you in some other way?”
I was still thinking about the odd mining planet that Sebastian had mentioned and decided to try and pump the inventors for some info.
“Maybe—but strictly in the capacity of analysts. Imagine the following hypothetical: A system that consists of two stars. Between them there is a planet that balances the stars’ gravitational wells and keeps the system in a state of equilibrium—a ‘keystone planet’ in other words. Two questions. How would one calculate the approach trajectory so as to avoid the gravity wells of either star? And what would happen to the system if you blew up the planet?”
“This is an interesting hypothetical…We can understand what is being asked but there is not enough data in the input… Are the diameters of the stars known?”
“Nope. The sizes of the stars, as well as the planets are unknown variables. But couldn’t one find a relationship in which the system will be balanced and stable? Imagine that you are the creator and are going to build such a model.”
“You are not considering a hypothetical system?”
“Of course not. If you solve the problem, I will show you this system. It really exists.”
“We accept your challenge,” the Precian rubbed his hands, anticipating a good mental workout. “I will have an answer for you tomorrow.”
It was a bit of silliness, of course, but logic suggested that Hansa needed to be constantly stimulated. Items, problems, riddles. Anything at all to force them to strain their minds, making you a useful and interesting customer in the process.
“One more thing. Is the current speed of my ship the maximum, or is there a way to increase it by twenty percent?”
“Everything can be increased, given time, resources and money,” answered the Precian, not bothering to hide his smile.
“How much would such a service cost?”
“Solving your problem will require a turnkey approach, for which, unfortunately, we lack the resources at the moment. So far all that we can offer you is in the list of devices known to you. All the best,” the Hansa employee bowed and quickly ran away.
For my next step I decided to play it safe and taking Sebastian with me, went to the NPC equipment vendor, or the local huckster as I liked to call him. The armor suits and the mech that I had plundered from Smasher took up too much space in my cargo holds and were much too valuable to lose them at respawn. It wasn’t the right time to look for buyers, so Sebastian haggled with the NPC huckster until both were foaming at the mouth and a deal was reached. The huckster got a ten percent discount on the market value of the armor suits and the mech. He refused to even entertain a smaller discount. Once the lump sum of 157 million GC settled into my gaming account, I sighed with relief. The die, as they say, has been cast and there is no turning back. Fighting Breed would not recover their property, no matter whom they contracted. If you want to be respected, you need to be able to defend your own interests. Since I am stuck in Galactogon for the next six months, I will invest in my good, pirate’s name.
“Brainiac, we’re taking off. Let’s get out of Belket, shall we?”
“Surgeon, is this your decision? There will be no further negotiations,” Aalor made his last warning when he saw me crossing the system boundary. Both of the Breed’s cruisers remained in-system, waiting for Big Brother to do all the work for them.
“Yes,” I replied, and repeated: “There will be no new negotiations. Over and up!”
Under Brainiac’s control the orbship zoomed forward. We rushed headlong into the vast unknown and hoped only that death did not lie in wait ahead. And if it did, we would fight to our last.
Chapter Seven
Space combat, like any other form of duel, is no different than a game of chess. The most important factor is having a plan. Naturally the captains’ reactions play a significant role—as do the ships involved and the weapons and defenses they have available—but all other things being equal, space combat is a contest of minds in which success depends on one’s ability to calculate accurately. The main difference from chess is that a player can make a move or make a hundred moves, but he can also make no move at all and still retain initiative in the battle.
Every Galactogon warship has at least three types of weapons in its arsenal: torpedoes, beam cannons and EM cannons. Cruisers were also outfitted with main cannons, but these were basically just larger versions of the beam cannons that everyone had. And then there was the case of Kiddo who had managed to somehow attach a mysterious prototype supercannon that remained unproven and that was capable of blasting right through a cruiser’s hull. But such cases were rare.
Beam cannons were used in close combat against other small ships. They did a good job of knocking down fighters or scouts by blowing up their reactors or engines. Beam cannons weren’t good for handling destroyers, carracks or frigates because these ships were already too big. This is where torpedoes came in—missiles with their own guidance systems and engines. Passing calmly through the shields which only blocked plasma, the torpedoes detonated near or inside the targets’ hulls, filling the area around them with raq shrapnel. Torpedoes could be diverted by hacking their navigation systems or shot down midflight with beam cannons. In that case, the self-destruction mechanism would trigger and the torpedo would explode. Hansa’s new torpedo models eliminated this defect by carrying shields which protected the missile’s vulnerable components. And yet, despite this unique solution, there was one big flaw in this approach: The torpedoes now depended on their advanced defensive systems. EM cannons were rarely used in serious PvP combat. It was simply too expensive to expend all that energy to knock down the enemy’s defenses for a short space of time. Besides, larger ships had redundant systems which would kick in the moment the primary ones failed. Meanwhile the shields of fighters and scouts were much easier to take down using beam cannons. As a result, some players deliberately refused to install EM cannons at all, replacing them with further beam cannons or other useful ship systems. Any way you approached the problems, all vessels were limited by their equipment slots. And any gun took up one such slot. My orbship, for instance, had four and they fired very rapidly.
My adrenaline rush suppressed any thought of self-preservation, while leaving my mind lucid. It takes a good deal of experience in virtual battles to develop this condition and any professional gamer worth his salt knows the value of this state of mind. The feeling was pleasant—I was filled with anticipation, a clarity of perception and a precise order to my thoughts. This was all exactly what we progamers play for!
My strategy was as follows: Take advantage of the fact that the Inevitable had its bow pointed at the Belket system and fly straight at it. The cruiser would not fire at me from its main guns, wary of a stray shot crossing the system and entering the area guarded by a Grand Arbiter. This would be fraught with a hefty penalty to Liberium’s rapport with the Precians. Aalor would therefore have to resort to his advanced torpedoes, smaller beam cannons and swarms of fighters that had so far remained inside the Inevitable’s hangars. At the very least he would have to wait until I changed course to go around him. This was the first part of my multi-stage plan.
“I am detecting a hyperdrive disruptor beam. Warning! Ten torpedo launches detected. ETA twenty seconds. These are advanced torpedoes.”
“Maintain course straight at the cruiser. Gunner, fire at will. Engineer, shields full front. Don’t let them knock us down.”
“Target hit! One more! Another one! Torpedoes destroyed!”
“Full speed ahead. Gunner destroy anything that gets close. Snake, start working on the hull as soon as we get within range.”
We rushed at the still-motionless cruiser. A moment of confusion cost Aalor his strategic initiative. Before he could react, we entered the perimeter of the cruiser’s shields, snuggling up as close as possible to her hull, right next to her immense engines. The snake fired three torpedoes. Two were immediately destroyed by the point defense guns, but the last one hit its targets—the cruiser lost one beam cannon on its stern. Neither the hull nor the engines were damaged—Aalor had stayed on top of his upgrades. A few broadsides from my beam cannons later, a single tail turret remained on the cruiser’s stern—the one I had plans for.
“Torpedoes inbound!”
The new wave consisted of thirty missiles. The gunner tried his utmost, squeezing the most out of the guns, but Brainiac summarized sternly:
“Two torpedoes cannot be destroyed.”
It was a shame of course, but at least we were about to find out whether Hansa was worth the money it charged.
“Brace for impact! Brainiac—keep the orbship next to the cruiser’s hull! Impact!”
The blow sent the ship tumbling along two axes a once. Inside, it was like being on a space themed roller coaster.
“Brainiac, report!”
“Hull integrity is 100%. All systems nominal. We lost two sensor antennae. I am picking up multiple bogeys. The enemy cruiser has scrambled her fighters.”
Aalor understood that torpedoes wouldn’t cut it. Or, rather, they would cut it eventually but it would cost him too much. It was much easier to scramble your bored fighter pilots, telling them to go nuts and boosting their morale in the process.
“Phase two! It’s your turn, gunner!”
Despite the absurdity of my attack, I wasn’t acting on instinct but according to common sense. Stan even assessed a thirty percent chance of success once I had explained my plan in detail to him. So what did we have? The cruiser Inevitable was a cutting-edge, fully-modernized ship with the best equipment available. The Liberium guild was too strong for others to stand up to it, so Liberium ships did not take part in active hostilities against players. Typically, their mere presence was enough to mediate any conflict. Accordingly, their crew’s reflexes and readiness wasn’t up to snuff. Aalor mostly focused on his new torpedoes, which were truly formidable weapons. I doubted that Aalor had had the opportunity to test them in battle against other players. So what would happen if a player who was used to always winning, discovers that his favorite weapon is useless? He will be stumped—maybe for no more than a few moments, a single heartbeat. And in doing so, he will lose his initiative. This moment of confusion would be enough for me to implement my idea: Stan had pointed out that the tail section of the cruisers contained one of the cargo holds—large enough to accommodate my orbship several times over. Having cleared the hull of the beam cannons and hoping that the confusion would delay the fighters’ arrival immediately after the second wave of torpedoes, I ordered the gunner to burn through the hull of the cruiser. I needed an opening about seventy meters wide.
In order to scramble out of the cruiser, fly around it, and gain speed and fly up to me, the fighters would need between ten and twenty seconds. The snake fired five torpedoes in the direction of the fighters, more to divert attention than to kill them. The missiles were shot down as soon as they came in range of the other beam cannons. However, this gifted me another five seconds. And this proved enough time for the gunner.
“Ready!” Brainiac reported cheerfully. No matter how well the cruiser was protected from torpedoes, she was helpless against our beam cannons at this range. We were within the area protected by her shields and so it was a cinch to burn a perfect square into her hull. Now came the third phase of our operation.
“Push in!” I ordered, and the orbship crashed into the cruiser. There was a metallic screech and part of the hull collapsed inward. With it came my ship. Bulkheads crumpled all around us and we collapsed into the empty void of the cargo hold. Like any other self-respecting player, Aalor did not bring valuable cargo on his missions. The breach we had made in the hull now shimmered over with a force field—Aalor had a second hull upgrade that reinforced his external hull with a forcefield in case it was breached. A cool trick that I should consider getting as well.
“Get to work, Brainiac! Hack their engine controls! Gunner, blast anything around us.”
Phase four now. Now that we were inside the cruiser, I could not allow Aalor to jump into hyperspace. If he jumps to some Liberium base—I will have to self-destruct. But I still had time—a minute at least. At this point an epic contest broke out between two computer systems: Inevitable’s Advanced Hansa Ship Mainframe (nicknamed ‘Bunny’) vs. Warlock’s Advanced Hansa Ship Mainframe—grafted onto an Uldan matrix—(nicknamed ‘Brainiac’). Personally, I’d bet on the latter. My droids pulled out the cable, hooked the orbship up to the cruiser and the AI battle got under way. The players who came rushing to us were instantly sent to respawn—the gunner was shooting to kill. A pair of fighters passed through the force field but met the fate of their fellow crew. There was no headway to be made in the face of our beam cannons.
“Snake, fire the torpedo.”
“Fuse set to three minutes,” the engineer reported. Since torpedoes in Galactogon flew only in conditions of complete weightlessness, it was impossible to shoot them on a ship with artificial gravity. But it was possible to hand the torpedo to a couple of droids and tell them to kamikaze in the right place.
Two of the robots picked up the missile that fell out of the orbship and marched forward. The gunner swept the way before them and in three minutes the droids managed not only to reach the other edge of the cargo hold but walked straight out of it, heading into the cruiser’s bowels to deliver their pill. I glanced at the timer. Three. Two. One! Ba-da-boom! Smoke flooded the cargo hold as showers of sparks and fragments rained all around.
“Success!” Brainiac said to my delight. “I have taken control of the cruiser’s hyperdrive system. She can no longer enter hyperspace. Now taking control of the tail turret—success! Rerouting turret control to the gunner.”
As Stan predicted, the torpedo exploding inside the cruiser had damaged the central data bus. There were backup contours, of course, but they could not cope with the hacking onslaught emanating from Warlock. The cruiser’s entire stern compartment now belonged to me.
“Fire the second and third torpedoes!”
I launched the other missiles more as a diversion. I understood that, even after separating the tail section, I would not be able to destroy the entire cruiser. I didn’t have enough torpedoes or energy for that. Meanwhile, all the fighters aboard the Inevitable had scrambled. The frigates couldn’t squeeze through the breach and the fighters no longer dared risk it—four kills had made it clear that I had become master of the cargo hold.
“An interesting move, but foolish,” Aalor’s didn’t even sound upset. “You lack the ordnance to destroy me from inside. Once you try to leave, it’ll be respawn time for you. You don’t have the marines on board to seize the ship. You can blow yourself up, but in any case, consider that your ship will be my compensation for all this anxiety you’re causing. Were your principles worth it?”
