Defiant (Lightship Chronicles) Read online

  Five minutes later a group of Carinthian marines, led by Captain Dobrina Kierkopf, came scrambling down the galleria from the bridge side.

  “Sorry we’re late to the party,” she said. “Once you knocked that field down, it shattered on our side as well. We were able to get down the lifter shaft and take out our unwanted guests.”

  “How many do you think are in there?” I asked, nodding toward the concrete material.

  “No telling,” she replied. “We kind of lost count of how many we destroyed.”

  “How long have you been fighting here?” I asked.

  “Most of three days. Mostly hand-to-hand. That mining colony has advanced gravity weapons. Those automatons broke through to our landing deck the first day and set up a beachhead, all while a gravity beam was hauling us down to the surface. They wanted the Historian’s quarters, the yacht, and we couldn’t hold them off. I ordered everyone we had left up to the forward decks, behind the bulkhead protecting officer country and the conning tower. We were able to stabilize the Hoagland Field inside the ship and cut off their advance, but we’ve been just holding our own while they set up shop here. Hard to tell what they’re up to, but they certainly want the yacht intact at a minimum, maybe all of Impulse II,” she said.

  “That won’t happen,” I said confidently. She smiled just slightly at my bravado.

  “I’ve got my engineers working on extending our Hoagland Field around the whole ship again. They told me twenty minutes, but that was twenty minutes ago,” Dobrina said, checking her watch. At that I got a chime on my com.

  “Hold on,” I said, then switched on the longwave channel to Layton on Defiant. “What’s your status, Mr. Layton?”

  “Situation is worsening, sir. We’re unable to pick off all of the robots coming out of that mine shaft. If I were guessing, I’d say it was a fricking factory,” he said. Dobrina took a separate call from her engineers. I listened in as they reported that the full Hoagland Field was going up now.

  “Can you scan Impulse II and confirm her field is operating fully and protecting the ship and our shuttles?” I asked Layton. It was Karina’s voice that came on the line and answered.

  “I can confirm, sir. According to longscope readings, Impulse II has a fully functioning Hoagland Field,” she said.

  “Layton,” I said into the com, “how many robots advancing on our position?”

  “Hundreds, sir,” he said, disconsolate. “Too many to take out individually. And there’s another complication. They’re hitting us with a gravity beam as well, trying to bring us down to the surface. And it’s all coming right out of that mine shaft.”

  “Status of that situation?” I said, concerned about Defiant.

  “We’re holding our own but losing ground a bit at a time, sir,” Layton said.

  “That’s just like us,” said Dobrina. “They wear you down.”

  I had to make a decision. I looked back to Dobrina. “Did you try using atomic weapons on the mining colony?” She shook her head.

  “We never got the chance. The goddamned Historian cut off our weapons and tactical systems,” she said, fury in her eyes. I turned back to my conversation with Layton.

  “What’s our lowest-yield atomic?” I asked Layton.

  “Twenty kilotons, sir.”

  “Effective range?”

  “For full destruction? About 1.6 kilometers, sir.”

  “How far from us to the mine entrance?”

  “Just over two clicks. Pretty damn close,” he said.

  “Twenty-kiloton warhead delivered dead-center in that mine shaft. You have two minutes, Commander Layton,” I said.

  “Aye, sir,” Layton said, then cut me off to get to his duties. Since our weapons systems were operative, I could at least assume that Gracel was still loyal to the Union. For the moment.

  “That’s too close,” said Dobrina.

  “I know,” I said. We had too few choices. The field would protect us from the blast, but the land area around Impulse II could be devastated, making it impossible for us to get her off the ground again. What was certain was that as long as those gravity weapons were working, neither of our ships were going anywhere.

  “Get your crew locked down,” I said to her. She nodded acknowledgment and started to move. I stopped her with a hand on the arm.

  “We lost John Marker,” I said. She looked sad at that.

  “I’ve lost a lot of good men and women in the last three days,” she replied. Then I let her go. I turned back to my marines.

  “Prep for atomic detonation. Follow all safety protocols,” I ordered. We scrambled back down the galleria, hunkered down near the rear bulkhead, and waited.

  I watched the warhead come down from Defiant on my watch’s tiny display screen. We called them watches, but really they were multifunctional coms, environmental trackers, and remote devices. I could even set a grenade charge with mine. Command-level clearance, of course. Babayan huddled close to me, watching the warhead descend on her own watch display. We were set in place behind the bulkhead wall, where we had originally come into the galleria.

  “Ten seconds,” I called to the marines. “Detonation protocol.” At that they all tucked their heads in close to their chests as best they could. Babayan and I kept watching the displays.

  The detonation was too bright for the small display to track. It tried to break down the flash by using darkening shades of contrast. Eventually it just gave up, and the display went blank.

  Even through the active Hoagland Field, the ground beneath Impulse II shook and rattled. We were rocked for several seconds—so severely, in fact, that I thought we might end up sinking into the ground, which would make getting spaceborne again a nearly impossible task. Lightships were meant to function in space, not on planets.

  Eventually the shaking stopped. I ordered five squads out to clean up any surviving robots. The rest of us made a break for the Historian’s yacht again.

  “Report, Layton,” I demanded over the longwave as we ran.

  “We got ’em, sir. Direct hit. All gravity-suppressing fields are deactivated. Defiant is free.”

  “Good work, George. Keep scanning the rubble for any signs of activity. Alert me immediately if you see anything not human moving down there. We’re going to get Impulse off this rock, then we’ll all be going home,” I said.

  “Aye, sir,” he acknowledged.

  When we got to the Historian’s quarters, which contained the yacht, nothing had changed. The impenetrable wall of carbon nanotubes was still intact. Captain Kierkopf arrived presently.

  “They’re still in there,” I said.

  “Yes,” she replied, “along with that goddamned Historian.” Her hands went to her hips in a familiar gesture I’d seen many times.

  “Do you think they captured him, or was he disloyal?” I asked.

  “A traitor,” she snapped. “They never would’ve gotten through our defenses if he hadn’t shut down the Hoagland Field. Luckily, I had my own safety protocols installed last year, after Carinthia. I’ll never trust a Historian again, and that goes for your friend Serosian.”

  I shook my head. “He’s not my friend anymore. At any rate, you won’t find me defending the Order. They clearly have their own agenda,” I said. She sighed.

  “Yes, as you warned me almost two years ago. I should have listened to you then.” She stood there, looking at me. I wanted to allow her to vent her anger, but there were pressing items on the agenda.

  “Can you get Impulse off the ground?” I asked. She nodded.

  “My engineers say so, even with that hole you blew in my hull,” she replied, sounding annoyed.

  “I was trying to help.”

  “That you did. I think we can be ready in thirty minutes. But what do we do about them in the meantime?” she asked, gesturing to the wall of nanotube goo.
/>   “Once we’re in space, you’ll have to eject the yacht,” I said.

  “That will require us to drop our Hoagland Field. It will also eliminate our redundant drive backups.”

  “Defiant will cover you,” I insisted. She pursed her lips at that, thinking.

  “I guess I have no other choice.” I cocked my head at her.

  “I guess you don’t.”

  “One other request. I lost a lot of people in the battle. Can I borrow some of your marines as backfill?” she asked.

  “I can spare five squads,” I replied. Twenty-five of my original crew of ninety-six. And I realized I didn’t even know how many we’d lost in battle yet.

  “Thank you, Captain.” She nodded an acknowledgment to me and then to Babayan, and then she was gone back to her bridge. I turned my attention to my XO.

  “Five squads, as I promised. Get the rest to scramble back to the shuttles and then up to Defiant, posthaste,” I said.

  “Sir, we’re down a pilot,” Babayan said. I stopped for a moment, thinking about that and the shot I saw Verhunce take to the chest while protecting me.

  “Is Corporal Verhunce dead?” I asked. Babayan looked at me with more than a bit of concern in her eyes.

  “If she’s going to live, we have to get her to intensive care on Defiant as fast as we can,” she stated.

  “Go,” I said. “I’ll fly my own shuttle back.”

  “Aye, sir.” And like that she was gone, yelling at squad teams to assemble and report to Dobrina’s marine captain for temporary reassignment. As I watched her go, I realized how lucky I was. I’d had so many good people in my crews the last few years, but now one of them was gone. I walked back to the spot where John Marker had broken the robots’ energy barrier. There was no trace of him, not even a spot on the floor.

  Good people indeed. But now one fewer than before.

  True to her word, Captain Kierkopf had Impulse II spaceborne again in thirty minutes. We shadowed her from above, five clicks over her all the way up to a safe orbit. Once she seemingly had her space legs again, I went to Babayan.

  “Sitrep, XO,” I demanded. She snapped around to me quickly to answer.

  “Impulse II is operational, sir. Not sure if she’s battle-ready, but all her systems that were under control of the Historian have been bypassed, and she now has weapons, propulsion, and full com available again. She reports that the automatons and the Historian believed to be inside the yacht have been isolated by an internal Hoagland security field,” she said.

  “So she’s ready to eject the yacht with the command override?”

  “Captain Kierkopf reports ready, sir.”

  “Good.” I’d deployed my shuttles and gunships with ample missiles and torpedoes to deal with any threat from the yacht. The yacht itself was a powerful ship-within-a-ship, but it was not impregnable. Dobrina’s insistence on built-in safeguards around the Historians and their activities were about to pay off big time.

  “Order our gunships into close proximity range of Impulse II. Remember that when she initially drops the yacht, it will still be protected under Impulse’s Hoagland Field. Once they cut the field, all bets are off, and I want a clean kill,” I said.

  “Aye, sir,” said Babayan. I looked to the weapons console, where John Marker should be. It was empty.

  “Commander Layton,” I said. He popped to his feet at the helm.

  “Here, sir.”

  “Take the weapons station. I’ll have a job for you,” I said. He looked across the bridge rather sadly, then took the empty station and brought her online.

  Lena Babayan came up behind me. “Covering your bases, sir?” she asked. I turned to her.

  “I trust the gunships to do the job, but I don’t trust those fucking robots or Historians,” I said. Babayan looked to the empty Historian’s station.

  “And Gracel?” she asked. I turned my attention to the main view display.

  “Caution is advised, XO.”

  “Understood, sir.” That meant our resident Historian would be under constant surveillance and given a discreet escort. I’d already determined my answer if she complained: her continued presence on my ship was a privilege, not a right.

  Dobrina signaled her readiness to eject the yacht fifteen minutes later. I ordered my shuttles and gunships into close proximity range to blast the Historian’s ship, then went up to Layton at the weapons console.

  “George, the coil cannon arrays have an enhanced frequency disruptor capability. This will allow us to punch holes in any defensive field the yacht might put up so that our missile warheads can penetrate and destroy the ship. Once the yacht is ejected, she’ll be protected under Impulse’s Hoagland Field for about five seconds. To disconnect the field from the yacht, Impulse will have to shut the field down and then refire. It will take about five to ten seconds before the contracted field is back up to protect Impulse. During that time I want Defiant’s coil cannons on that yacht. Then we let the gunships launch their missiles. I want this thing completely destroyed, and I want Impulse kept safe for those ten seconds. You get me, Commander?” I said.

  “I do, sir,” said Layton.

  “You have my full confidence, George.” Which was my way of saying “I think you’re as good as the man who used to occupy that station.” A man who was our friend and was now dead.

  “Thank you, sir,” said Layton. I started back to my chair, switching over to Babayan’s com channel as I went.

  “Tell the good captain of Impulse we’re ready when she gives us the go sign,” I said.

  “Aye, sir.”

  I sat back in my couch, watching the main view display, a tactical grid overlaying the main visual. We were about five clicks from Impulse II, close enough to get there in seconds and assist if something went wrong. I watched as our gunships positioned themselves, then waited.

  It only took a few more seconds for the yacht to be ejected. It reminded me of a whale birth I had seen once as a child at the New Briz Aquarium.

  The yacht floated free, completely covered with the white nano-goo the automatons had used. Impulse began to back away on chemical impellers, and then she shut down her Hoagland Field and left the yacht—and herself—exposed.

  “Now, Mr. Layton!” I ordered. Orange coil cannon fire leapt out from Defiant, but as I suspected, the yacht immediately activated her own defensive field. It had probably been on the whole time the yacht had been attached to Impulse. The coil fire hit the field, and a blaze of swirling energy danced around the ship, as if the two energy sources were fighting each other tooth and nail across the hull of the yacht. Our gunships were triangulated on the yacht’s position, and they fired their missiles, which contained enough power to flatten a city, right on the ten-second mark. As the coil cannon arrays rotated and fired their second volley, the missiles began to impact the yacht’s Hoagland Field. The frequency disruptor waves in the coil cannon fire did its job, punching holes in the yacht’s protective field. The warheads began to explode against the field, at first to no effect, but slowly the atomic plasma broke through in places and caused secondary explosions against the vessel’s hull. Soon the yacht began to drift into Drava’s atmosphere, burning as she went and leaving a vapor trail.

  “Got her, sir!” said Layton. “She’s going down!” I checked the tactical. The yacht’s Hoagland Field was gone, but the display showed her hull was still 75 percent intact. That nano-goo was something else.

  I got on my tactical com quickly.

  “Gunship commanders, pursue and destroy. I say again, pursue the target and destroy it,” I ordered. Babayan touched her ear, close to her private com implant.

  “Gunship pilots are reporting strong resistance to their weaponry,” she said. “Hull still—”

  “Understood, XO.” I turned to Layton. “Another blast from the coil cannons, if you please, Mr. Layton,” I sa
id.

  “Aye, sir,” Layton said. He fired three full volleys.

  “Still 60 percent hull integrity, sir,” reported Babayan. I stood, angry.

  “Begin pursuit,” I ordered. “Prep the high-yield torpedoes. And get those gunship pilots off their asses, but continue to fire missiles at the yacht.”

  “Sir!” said Babayan. I watched as we pursued our prey. It took every missile the gunships carried to get the yacht’s hull integrity down to 35 percent. I finally ordered them out of the way as we loaded a set of eight torpedoes with a combined yield of eight megatons. I watched as the torpedoes lanced out, waiting as they streaked inward on the slowly descending yacht. She had maintained her structural integrity despite contact with Drava’s weak atmosphere. Oh, she was burning all right, just not fast enough. Then the torpedoes hit.

  “Nothing bigger than two percent mass of the yacht left, sir,” said Babayan. “Tactical AI is reporting it as destroyed.” I slowly sat back down, and she took her station next to me. “That was much harder than it should have been,” she concluded.

  “You can break anything if you have a big enough hammer,” I said, and she smiled just slightly at that.

  “Sir!” came the overeager and stressed voice of my com officer, Ensign Lynn Layton. “Distress signal from Impulse II, sir. She’s reporting that the gravity weapon from the mining colony has reactivated!”

  “That’s impossible!” said Babayan. In our rush to judgment on the yacht, we had left our damaged sister ship all alone. I jumped up again and turned to Karina at the longscope.

  “Can you confirm that, Lieutenant?” I asked her. She stepped out from under the hood.

  “Confirmed, sir. The gravity weapon from the surface of Drava has got Impulse again, and she’s pulling her in,” she said.