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Beyond The Frontier Page 13


  If the ORA ships proved anything, it’s that the USS was ahead technologically.

  He kept the suit’s sensors focused on the structure, giving the computer time to probe for any weaknesses.

  Sure enough, within fifteen minutes the suit’s sensor suite penetrated the structure’s shielding, and the thermal laser optics processed the interior, highlighting the occupants within. He’d located the crew. The inferences he drew from the thermal displays and data about their condition made him sick.

  A query to the computer told him it was ninety percent certain it could scramble the targeting sensors on the turrets. Good odds for any soldier—or marine.

  Around him the others waited in silence. Each of them likely absorbing the same information.

  Dawes was the marine—an expert on land and ship based combat operations—so he was in charge. He would defer to the sergeant so long as Lee didn’t believe it compromised the rescue.

  “Lieutenant,” Dawes said. “We’ll draw away the small base garrison. We’ll make enough noise to bring them out. First, we’ll plant charges on those bigger guns. Don’t want those things ruining us if they penetrate our jamming. We’ll be outnumbered. We’ll have to watch for attempts to flank us.”

  Dawes unhooked his turret. “You wait for as long as you need, until you think you’ve got the best opening. See how many we lure out, and you grab our people and lead them out. Take as much stimulants and emergency packs as possible. We don’t know their condition. And they may have a good running fight ahead of them.”

  Dawes handed him the stims and e-packs.

  “We’ll do our best to withdraw to the extraction point. If that seems impossible, depending on the likely success, we’ll call that ballsy pilot down on top of us and improvise.”

  Lee nodded. The time for words was past. He pounded a good-natured friendly fist on the sergeant’s chest and moved off.

  Chapter 24 – Light ‘Em Up

  “I’m looking for a friend of mine” - Malcolm Lee

  Indri-3

  Sergeant Dawes had finished planting the charges. He, Ubu and Chen poised from their chosen positions to begin the loud assault.

  They’d set up several of their own deployable turrets around the base and each marine took position next to one.

  Time to bring the pain.

  “Let’s light ‘em up boys!”

  Immediately the rapid-firing rocket launchers fired the first six of three six-round magazines. They didn’t do much damage to the structure, but the noise was deafening.

  Dawes keyed the sequence to detonate the explosives planted on the base’s turrets. Hot shards of flaming ceramic soared hundreds of meters in all directions.

  Another round of rockets took flight, this time skyward and came down on the structure. Sure to make anyone believe they were under heavy attack. The occupants were sure to be rattled by the fact they couldn’t detect anything outside.

  The anti-personnel turrets opened up and fired randomly. It seemed they had an endless supply of ammunition. The turrets spewed death in all directions.

  Dawes dove behind his barricade. The rounds from those guns went through meters of dirt.

  It didn’t take long for operators inside to visualize from the outside optics where the attacks originated and the incoming return fire increased in precision.

  One of the base’s walled sections opened and four mechanized giants of death emerged. Equipped with shoulder mounted barreled weapons and arm-mounted turrets, they wrecked the landscape.

  If there was ever an “oh shit” moment.

  This was one.

  ***

  Lee was certain he could hear Sergeant Dawes yelling over the chaos.

  The voice didn’t come from Lee’s earpiece. But the marine sergeant’s actual voice. Sounded strangely like—“get some!”

  Lee had no idea what it meant. Maybe it was a marine thing.

  Within minutes of unleashing hell on the enclosed base, a sidewall retracted and out stomped four mechanized creatures.

  Oh dear, he was going to have to ruin those nice shiny mechs.

  Too bad for the ORA—Lee had power scramblers. There was good reason mechanized warfare wasn’t so popular in full on military versus military engagements. You could get away with using those things somewhere else—against someone else.

  Here they were just a big target.

  Lee loaded kinetic rounds with scrambler tips and took aim with his KR. He fired several shots at each in succession.

  A haze radiated around each mechs’ exoskeleton. The mechanized soldiers tumbled one by one. The ones in mid-step hit face first.

  One had just taken a grand leap for Sergeant Dawes’ position—it crashed with a loud bang and remained motionless. The other two just froze when the scramblers connected. Then a barrage of rockets from friendly turrets ended their little mechanized hurrah.

  The smaller anti-personnel turrets were the only remaining worry. They were enough of them to be spattering crap in all directions. The turrets might make a lucky shot. And turn his new shiny armor and him into Swiss cheese.

  Lee couldn’t go through and he couldn’t go around. So he’d go above.

  He sized up the mangled wall platform where one of the larger sentry turrets once rested before it took a trip to oblivion. The HUD told him it was sixty feet. Just about right.

  He folded his rifle and slung it in its recess. He steeled himself. Vee, I know you can hear us . . . we’re coming.

  He adjusted the jump-pack for a longer jump to compensate for the high winds. He dug his armored boots into the mushy surface and pushed off. The jump point loomed.

  Last stride.

  He activated his pack and leapt at the same time arcing through the air. He was going to overshoot. Damn it.

  He deployed flaps from the sides of the suit, the winds slammed into him, and he dropped in a narrow arc onto the corner tower.

  Within the walls, a small platoon of ORA goons assembled. One was shouting orders to the rest.

  On the far side, more walls had recessed and troops poured out. These were the only ones left inside the inner compound. How fortunate to be so close. Just twenty feet below it was time to smash some goons.

  He stepped off.

  Lee slammed a short-range energy scrambling grenade into the ground as he hit and rolled with the momentum, still kneeling, he swung his bionic arm into the first armored trooper’s midsection with full force.

  The trooper soared away and up as though a bird of prey had snatched him. Armor or no armor, he was on his way to the next life.

  The others nearby appeared transfixed by the flying trooper, following him with their helmeted heads as he soared past. They all turned in Lee’s direction at once. He wanted them to see the face of their doom—the last thing they’d ever see. His helmet recessed into his armor. He grinned and stood straight.

  “I’m looking for a friend of mine,” he said as he flipped side-ways and kicked the one who’d been barking orders at the end of the group. The man’s neck snapped. Lee landed and held his position. “His name is Vee.”

  They all aimed their rifles at once. When nothing happened, they looked at their weapons and back at Lee.

  He drew his projectile sidearm—version two-point-zero. He shot the four on the left through their helmet. Their heads exploded in a red mist carried away instantly by the high winds.

  Sweeping the sidearm around to the opposite side he shot the others. Only one shot left in his sidearm. He might need it later. He holstered the weapon and readied himself. The remaining troopers closed and swung wildly with their useless rifles.

  Lee ducked under the first three swings, the weapons clanged together above his head. Still crouching he swept his left foot around and the three on the right fell.

  He pivoted and swept the legs out from under the others to his left. He balled his bionic fist and smashed each through the faceplate. Bones crunched with each blow.

  Lee grabbed one of them by
the ankle and swung the body into three more charging him head on. He leapt in the air and came crashing down on a goon to the left with his knee in the trooper’s chest.

  That wouldn’t hurt the little goon through his armor.

  The goon reached up and grabbed Lee by the neck. Lee grabbed his arm with his bionic hand and twisted it in a way arms shouldn’t twist. The armored shell protecting the man’s arm crumpled at the shoulder joint and took his shoulder with it. Lee’s fingers crushed the trooper’s neck.

  A weight rammed him from behind and something else hard hammered the base of his neck.

  He reached behind with his arm, gripped the offender and tossed him over and away. The discarded trooper regained his feet.

  The goon looked around, realized he was alone and scrambled off. Lee chuckled inwardly—that was probably the smartest of the lot. Any direction away from Lee was safer at this point.

  He’d cleared the immediate area. Only the troopers’ mangled bodies remained.

  He entered the base.

  Chapter 25 – All You Have Left

  The man had continued his staring game for days. Saying nothing. All the while Avery never had control of his eyes. He’d lost all sensation of time. How long the man played this game he’d never know. The only physical thing he did was inject nutrients into Avery.

  Avery unwillingly admitted this was some unique torture. Another hiss of air signaled another visitor.

  This time the staring man dragged in someone from the box.

  “Commander, they said if we give them what they want, they’ll let us go. We’re so thirsty, sir, the box is driving us crazy.”

  “Don’t listen to them, crewman.” Even as he said it, he knew he wasn’t convincing. These young men and women hadn’t in their wildest imaginations expected to meet this kind of fate out in the black.

  The crewman continued. “I’ve told them no one but a starship captain would know these things, please, sir, tell them so we can go home. We can’t take this anymore.”

  The staring man held a weapon to the crewman’s head. Still silent, he looked towards Avery.

  The crewman pleaded one last time. “Sir, please . . .”

  Avery opened his mouth, then shut it. The weapon discharged, and the crewman slumped to the deck.

  Avery didn’t react. He wanted to rip the killer’s head off. Just like the crewman, he wanted to be rid of this place. He’d do anything just to be able to stand or move his head, or wiggle his toes. They’d made him a prisoner inside his own mind.

  They’d broken him down without inflicting an ounce of physical pain. He wanted to tell them everything. He couldn’t remember what it was like to move. The isolation, the immobility—it was a descent into madness.

  If he held long enough, maybe he would go insane and then he could no longer have cognitive thoughts, and they wouldn’t get what they wanted anyway, because whatever they did or didn’t do to him wouldn’t matter.

  What would an insane person care? He’d just imagine himself on a beach all day with—

  Who was staring man? The water glistened in the distance. Palm trees blew in the wind. The sand got in his eyes. He could go swimming forever. He bit the inside of his lip and gums so hard the blood dripped out the corners of his mouth.

  Staring man left. Tears streamed down his checks.

  It was all he had left.

  The man returned with another crewmember. It was the same thing. He held the weapon to a young woman’s head. What was her name? She’s a technician. Chief . . . Niri.

  Then the surface shook. Thunderous booms reached his ears.

  He could hear the noise, the door to his room was unsealed. The man yanked Niri out and shut the door. His friends had come. He almost felt sorry for these ORA bastards now.

  Almost.

  Chapter 26 – No Giant Too Large

  “Now let’s use those fancy maneuvers you and I have been itching to practice” – Aaron Rayne

  Phoenix

  A searing pain passed through Aaron. He felt a wave of emotion flow through him. His head felt light for a moment. He couldn’t remember what he’d been thinking.

  Hang on, Vee, we’re coming. He shook the feeling away. Time to deal with this behemoth.

  The sensors tracked the dreadnought as it took position.

  When Lee first told Aaron about a large blip of gravity waves and the possibility of a three-kilometer long behemoth lurking nearby, Aaron hoped it was an inaccurate sensor return.

  Now here it was in all its grandeur between him and the planet. Between him and his crew.

  Flaps was back at the helm. Ayres took the secondary tactical station where she could assist with analyzing the enemy ship’s movements, spot weaknesses well ahead, and increase Phoenix’s overall effectiveness.

  “Commander?” Flaps queried.

  Aaron repeated it. “The damn thing is three-point-four kilometers in length. It’s got thirty missile batteries, dozens of point defense towers, endless plasma turrets and . . . who knows what else…”

  “We did our best. It’s got to count for something.”

  “Indeed, Yuri. But I’ve been dead before and I didn’t like it. I would consider it a personal insult if these ORA people were the ones who do us in. Let’s get to it shall we?”

  “Aye, Commander.”

  “My hands are full here, Ensign. Evasion and initiative at your discretion, if you see something we’ve not yet noticed, which is very likely, point it out I’ll give you a yay or nay. We’ll be trying to stay alive and keep that thing distracted as long as possible. If we’re forced to disengage or destroyed, they’ll deploy whatever reinforcements they’ve got to the planet.”

  Flaps looked around. “Understood, Commander.”

  Aaron nodded. “Now let’s use those fancy maneuvers you and I have been itching to practice.” Flaps worked better if he didn’t feel pressured. Aaron had to show the ensign, show them all—that nothing phased him. It would inspire their confidence. But in reality, the dreadnought’s sudden appearance brought with it Trident’s final moments. It seemed the memory would forever plague him like a bad virus for which there was no cure. His dead crew called out to him.

  He pushed the darkness away, his demons would have to haunt him another day. The dreadnought was six million klicks away—twenty light-seconds.

  Phoenix carried him to his destiny.

  ***

  “Firing solutions coming up now, Commander,” Ayres said.

  Her calculations flicked across to his board. Together, they operated the tactical station in perfect harmony. Lee would be proud.

  “Firing,” Aaron said.

  The forward railguns spat a trail of tungsten slugs. The ORA vessel was a big bully and it couldn’t evade worth a damn. But it would be like pricking someone with a pin.

  Unless they hit something really critical, it would only sting a bit. And that thing must have armor thicker in some places than a quarter the length of Phoenix.

  “Now, Ensign . . . jump.”

  After emptying her forward magazines, Phoenix micro-jumped behind the dreadnought and vectored hard to port lining up the dreadnought for a barrage from the starboard guns.

  Aaron extended the missile batteries from the hull, and launched a volley of havocs, just as Flaps veered hard to starboard and kicked in an emergency acceleration. The return fire from the dreadnought drifted harmlessly past as Aaron unleashed fury from the port guns.

  The slugs from their first barrage, prior to the jump, now reached the dreadnought just as the port guns fired. The first set pounded the frontal sections and the second volley tore into the rear sections. Good hits, but not enough to slow the beast.

  “We’re doing good,” Aaron said. “Back us off a bit while the magazines reload. The computer is analyzing their turret’s tracking capabilities. The results so far are promising for us.”

  Phoenix burned away from the dreadnought. A brief respite.

  “It feels like fighting a gia
nt,” Flaps said. “We’re not hurting it much. It reminds me of the story Lee told me about Gunther.”

  “Gunther?” Aaron asked.

  “The black market guy. You know the one they fought on Luyten? Lee said he kicked him in the gonads, but it didn’t really have the intended effect. I bet if this thing had gonads, and we kicked it, it’d have an effect.”

  Flaps probably thought he was being funny. The boy was brilliant!

  The oversized belligerent must have an inordinate amount of ammunition. Maybe the entire vessel was full of ammunition in one part of the ship. A giant had sensitive parts too. The only weapon which really threatened Phoenix with the kinetic barrier down, was the dreadnought’s excessive amounts of missiles. The other weapons were short-range only.

  An old story of a boy and a slingshot flashed in Aaron’s mind, but he couldn’t quite recall its significance now. If he could get a good scan to penetrate the hull and lock on to the signature . . . a mass of weapons in one location must have a huge signature.

  “Zane, you heard the ensign, this giant has a weak spot. Feed the data from the scans of their missiles into the computer. Draw what power you need and get us a deep scan. Find the largest concentrated sensor returns matching those scans. We’ll target those areas. The missiles have to be stored there.”

  The scientist turned ops officer dropped his head and worked his station. They had to find those missiles. A couple well-placed hits could destroy most of the dreadnought’s missile ordnance and defang it. It would have to be soon. Hundreds of missiles closed on Phoenix.

  The more missiles in the black, the more their targeting computers could synchronize and worked to defeat Phoenix’s counter measures and evasive patterns. That could possibly mean missiles intercepting Phoenix from every direction.

  Missile defense 101 called for scurrying away like a frightened animal at best speed, increasing the hostile ordnances’ time to intercept, while giving point defense and counter measures more time to take them down.