Blackbeard Superbox, page 106
And then a giant fist slammed her into her seat. Where moments earlier she’d been thrown against the restraints as the ship turned to position its weapons, now she was shoved down. Her limbs were lead, and it felt as though a man was sitting on her shoulders, another man on her legs, and two more on her chest. Every breath was labored, as if a giant vise had caught her lungs and were relentlessly tightening.
Men and women across the bridge slumped in their chairs and across their consoles. Nyb Pim gave a high moan and struggled to hold up his head, which seemed too heavy for his neck to support.
It was the eliminon battery. Tolvern had been skeptical when Commander Li explained how it worked. Capturing gravitational waves emitted by the gas giant, it channeled them into a sphere surrounding the battle station. Anything within that sphere would be caught in the crushing grip of six Gs. If you already had your ship calibrated to match Albion’s .98 G surface, you could make it seven.
There was no skepticism now. Tolvern felt every pound of additional pressure on her body. Her pulse thudded in her temples, which felt like they would split and let her brains ooze out. When she turned, it felt like her head would snap off and fall to the floor.
She looked at the viewscreen. Sentinel 3’s ultimate weapon had caught the Apex ships in a crushing embrace. Those farther out were still maneuvering, but the ones closer in were either held in place or hurtling on whatever trajectory they’d been following before the battle station fired up its weapon.
“Cap’n,” Capp said. Blood trickled from one nostril and her mouth hung open. “Order fire?”
“Yes.” Somehow, Tolvern activated the com. “Barker. Give ’em hell.”
The phrase “ultimate weapon” wasn’t just hyperbole. Bringing the eliminon battery online brought down the station’s ability to fire other weapons. The battle station was within a protective shell that shielded its inhabitants, but anything outside was affected by the gravitational waves, which spread equally across the affected region. Until it turned off the weapon, it fell on Blackbeard to do any fighting.
Eight Hunter-II torpedoes squirted out of the tubes. Rockets firing, they struggled to overcome the gravitational waves, and accelerated slowly. Each torpedo targeted a single ship. Three were unable to overtake the ships they were chasing, and Tolvern saw at once that the lances would slip out of the gravity cone and escape. A fourth torpedo slammed into the side of a lance, but the explosive was a dud and only partially detonated. The lance was wounded, but not destroyed.
The other four torpedoes, however, found their mark. One exploded inside the engines of a lance and left nothing but microscopic wreckage. Two more struck disabling blows that sent lances spinning, crippled, from the battlefield.
The final torpedo struck a lance along the stern and broke it in two like a banana cut down the middle. These larger pieces flew apart an instant later. The alien ship had been flying directly at Blackbeard when the torpedo struck it, and bits of debris struck them. Tolvern kept the presence of mind to take a quick look, hoping to snare an engine or undamaged weapon. No engine, but she caught a glimpse of shattered bodies and torn off wings. Apex would have approved of the carnage.
Tolvern had destroyed four enemy ships in an instant, but she was upset and cursed her luck. They could have wiped out a third of the attack wave with a single volley. Instead, fully half of her torpedoes had failed to damage easy targets.
It took a moment for her sluggish mind to recognize that an opportunity still presented itself. More than a dozen enemy ships remained within the sphere cast by the eliminon battery. All were dead still, having jumped into place and never regained momentum. One of these was a command ship, a so-called spear, which lay straight ahead.
Not one of them had recovered. Why weren’t they moving? Yes, they had to cope with their own artificial gravity on top of the bone-crushing amounts radiating out from the sentinel battle station, but surely someone would have the presence of mind to put the foot, or rather, talon on the gas and accelerate in a straight line to get them out of the way. A thought came unbidden.
They’re birds.
The wheels were still turning, creaking from one thought to the next, and Tolvern slowly worked it out. Feathers, claws—as tall as an ostrich, but with beaks that her science officer said could manipulate objects much like a parrot’s. And wings.
Those wings were capable of flight. Not racing around like a pigeon or a hawk, but short, turkey-like bursts.
The Apex home world must be lower gravity than Earth or Albion or the typical Hroom world if such a large animal could fly. What did they have their artificial gravity set to? Maybe it was only .5 G. What felt like a crushing weight to humans, crippling to a Hroom, might even kill the buzzards.
All these ships might be filled with dead enemies. She could capture one intact. Learn all their secrets.
Tolvern’s head was pounding, and she couldn’t get excited about the idea while she was trying to remain conscious, though she recognized what a critical breakthrough that would present. But before she could work out a strategy for seizing one of the ships, the spear ahead of them began to move slowly. Someone was still alive on board.
“Take it out,” she ordered.
Capp passed the orders to the gunnery while Tolvern tried to get Nyb Pim alert enough to interface with the nav computer. He moved sluggishly, but complied.
Blackbeard eased into motion. The inertia engine was off, and movement that was too aggressive would kill them. Even the modest acceleration Nyb Pim ordered was enough additional strain that spots flashed in Tolvern’s vision. Lomelí threw up over the defense grid computer, and Smythe had to go help her.
They came up behind the spear and let loose with the deck gun. The larger enemy ship had stronger shields to go along with more powerful weaponry, and didn’t immediately yield to the kinetic fire pouring out of Blackbeard. Tolvern waited until the rear shield lay battered and fractured into pieces, then hit it with the laser. The shield absorbed some of the energy, but was soon melting off like hot cheese. One more hit with the deck gun and the spear blew apart.
Blackbeard swung toward another enemy ship, a lance. It didn’t move, and Tolvern let loose with the main cannons. A single broadside tore gaping holes all along the ship, and it broke into numerous pieces.
The next opportunity came seconds later, as a lance flashed by off port. It had just entered the gravitational sphere when the battle station activated the eliminon battery, and hadn’t altered its course since then. Blackbeard hit it with cannon fire. When it emerged from the far side of the sphere, it was still racing toward the Kettle. Its engines sputtered, trying to move, but Blackbeard had raked it over. It was unable to alter its trajectory and soon plummeted into the crushing gas atmosphere of the planet.
The gunnery loaded fresh missiles and sent a pair toward each of the last two remaining ships. They died without a fight. By now, the others had either drifted outside the gravity sphere around the battle station or managed to limp away. In both cases, they fled for their lives.
Throughout this entire struggle, the bulk of the Apex forces had remained at a distance, seemingly content to observe. A Hroom fleet would have charged in to the rescue, making an all-or-nothing bid to overwhelm the enemy with firepower. A human fleet might have approached cautiously or aggressively, depending on the commanding officer, but most certainly would have attempted to fight in support of its allies.
Apex seemed unconcerned about the heavy losses. In fact, Tolvern was getting the sense that they simply didn’t care about death or destruction suffered even by their own side, willing to sacrifice any number of ships for unknown reasons.
The crushing gravity vanished. It didn’t dissipate, it simply was no longer there. With the artificial gravity off, it was especially disconcerting as Tolvern felt weightless again. Someone vomited loudly—probably Lomelí again. Tolvern’s stomach flopped twice, and then was still.
The sentinel battle station started firing again the moment the eliminon battery turned off. It chased down a fleeing lance with green globules from its plasma ejector, destroying it, and wounded two others with missiles.
“Give me gravity!” Tolvern ordered.
The ship’s systems kicked back on. She meant to chase the fleeing enemies, but they were already safely away. To go after them now would take her far from the battle station’s protective firepower.
Instead, she looked warily at the scans, wondering what the enemy would try next. The tattered remnants of the attack wave flew back toward the harvester ship and the rest of the fleet, badly mauled in the struggle. Thirteen lances destroyed, plus a spear. Several other ships wounded. The enemy force remained formidable, but it no longer looked invincible. It certainly didn’t appear to be spoiling for another skirmish.
From the cheering on the bridge, you’d have thought the entire war had been won. The defense grid and tech console crews came together to slap hands and clap each other on the back. Capp kissed the solemn Hroom pilot right on the mouth, then grinned at his startled look before coming to try the same with the captain.
“Please,” Tolvern said as Capp came in puckered up. “Let’s maintain some dignity, shall we?”
“Ah, you ain’t gonna be all stiff like that now that you’re in charge, are you?”
Stiff, no. Somewhat formal, yes. Nobody would have planted a sloppy kiss on Captain Drake’s mouth, after all. But she couldn’t keep the grin off her face, and she certainly didn’t feel like a victorious naval captain. She was too giddy with relief.
“Smythe, give me a fresh scan. What is that harvester ship doing?”
“Come on, Cap’n,” Capp pressed as Smythe moved to comply. “I thought we was going to die, and I’ll wager you did, too. Ain’t we allowed a little bit of fun after all that?”
“We are allowed, and we did have some fun. Now let’s figure out how to stay alive.”
“They can’t touch us in here,” Smythe said, far too confidently. “That eliminon battery will drive them off. So we stay here and neutralize any long-range attacks. From this distance, our countermeasures can handle anything they throw at us.”
“That’s right,” Capp said. “They got to come in here.” She ground a fist into her palm. “And then we’ll pulverize ’em.”
“Our captain does not look so confident,” Nyb Pim said, studying Tolvern’s face.
“That’s because the eliminon battery can’t protect us anymore,” she said.
Capp thrust her chin out defiantly. “What are you talking about?”
Tolvern held the first mate’s gaze. “It is a single-use weapon.”
Chapter Five
Once it became clear that the enemy wouldn’t force an immediate resumption of hostilities, Tolvern had left a skeleton crew on the bridge and brought Capp, Smythe, and Nyb Pim into the war room. Moments earlier, they’d been cheering, slapping each other on the back, and carrying on like the battle had settled the entire war. Now they stared glumly from around the table as she laid out the facts.
The eliminon battery warped gravitational waves coming off the gas giant, in effect capturing them within a containment field. Releasing them destroyed the containment field, and it had to be rebuilt. When Tolvern first heard of the eliminon battery, she’d assumed that “battery” was being used in the ancient naval sense to mean a collection of guns or cannons, but that was wrong. Battery, in this case, meant the device’s storage capacity.
“So let me get this straight,” Smythe said. “The thing literally needs to recharge.”
“I haven’t got a clue how the physics works,” Tolvern said, “but it appears to have that limitation, yes.”
“How long are we talking about?”
“A day or two—it’s not always consistent. But a long time, given the present circumstances.”
“That is obviously a problem,” Nyb Pim said.
“Yes, Pilot. It is.”
“I do not think we have that long.”
“No, Pilot, I wouldn’t say that we do.”
“Let me grab Brockett and Lomelí and take a look at this thing,” Smythe said. “I’ll bet we could figure out a couple of tweaks. Barker, too. He’s got a good mind for the engineering stuff. Get it up and running faster and the battery would be a lot more useful.”
“Maybe so,” Tolvern said, “but do you think you could do all of that before, oh, I don’t know, forty-eight hours from now? Figure out the science and engineering, and then implement changes to one of the most sophisticated weapons systems ever devised? And do it before the buzzards come flying in for another go of it?”
“Well, no. I guess that would be too much to hope for.”
Tolvern avoided the exasperated sigh that wanted to come out. Instead, she spoke more practically. “The good thing is that Apex has no clue, either. Hopefully. They were certainly caught with their pants down when the device activated.”
“Do birds wear pants?” Capp asked. “Seems hard to put them on over those skinny legs. And then there are the claws.”
“Dammit, Capp.”
“Sorry, Cap’n. I was just wondering.” She brightened. “There’s one good thing. We hold off that long and that’s about the time Drake and his mates will be showing up, right?”
“More or less.”
Capp rubbed her head. “So all we need to do is stay alive for two days and we’re saved.”
“Yes, merely that.”
And yet Capp had a point, didn’t she? They’d lost the element of surprise, but if Drake’s fleet arrived in time, it would be more than an even match. Apex must see the same thing; they’d be eager to renew the attack just as soon as they regrouped.
The key was to keep that attack from happening. An idea began to form, a possible solution to her problem. To implement it she’d need Commander Li’s help. But the two of them could not communicate from a distance for fear of losing their secrets to the aliens.
Tolvern rose to her feet. “Lieutenant Capp, you have the helm. I need to pay our friends on the battle station a visit.”
#
Soon, Tolvern was alone in the away pod. The diamond-like sheen of the ice ring swept across her field of vision, with the gas giant a vast kettle of copper and clay eating up the background. The battle station was only a few dozen miles from the ship, but it had vanished once again against the ring.
A yellow light flashed above the airlock door, and Jane began her countdown. “Thirty seconds to launch. Prepare for rapid acceleration.”
Tolvern’s thoughts turned to the two men who’d attacked Carvalho and stolen an away pod. Megat, the escaped Singaporean mutineer, and Djikstra, the New Dutch pilot who’d led them to this system in the first place. What had they been thinking? How had they even known each other?
Carvalho said that Djikstra was sick when he came down here, sweating and barely able to hold himself up. Was that a coincidence, or did it have something to do with all of this?
Tolvern might never find out. Apex had sent a lance to pick up the pod, and the two men were probably dead by now. If not, they wished they were dead.
Capp spoke over the com. “You remember to pack your toothbrush, Cap’n?”
“Hah. I won’t be long.”
“Better not. Them buzzards are moving again, and I ain’t fighting ’em alone.”
“Twenty seconds,” Jane said.
“An hour, tops,” Tolvern said. “Don’t leave without me.”
“On the other hand, it is a nice ship what you left me. Wonder what it would fetch on San Pablo. Ten thousand quid, I figure.”
“Ten thousand and a bounty on your head.”
“I see your point.”
“Ten seconds to launch.”
“Tell you what, Cap’n. Bring me back a handsome bloke from the station, and I’ll let you keep your ship.”
Tolvern didn’t respond to this. She had closed her eyes and was finishing the countdown in her head. And then the launch. It slammed her back in her seat as she went hurtling from the ship.
She opened her eyes. Ahead, nothing but ice. Above and behind, the vast field of stars, the endless universe. Where was the station? Shouldn’t it be visible by now? Had they miscalculated?
Or worse, what if the battle station hadn’t received her message? She’d sent the signal: two timed bursts from the plasma engine, as if testing it after battle. It meant she would send a pod from Blackbeard.
Tolvern didn’t see the hook or net until it had snared her and she was pushed against her restraints. The hook brought her in, and suddenly she could see the black smear of the station against the surrounding stars. She had to get her hands on that cloaking technology.
Commander Jon Li was in the docking bay to personally help her out of the pod. Like everything else on the battle station, the bay was orderly and neat, but the air was warmer than on Blackbeard, more humid. It also carried a faint floral scent.
Li seemed more relaxed than when she’d last seen him roughly ten hours earlier, and as she studied his face, she was surprised to see that he seemed rested.
“You look like a man who has got a good night’s sleep,” she said. “Don’t tell me you were curled up in bed during the battle.”
“In a manner of speaking. It was artificial sleep, but good enough.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We have a pill that simulates eight hours of rest. Very useful in combat situations.”
“What? That’s medically impossible.”
Li laughed. “Except that it’s not. Look at me.”
“If that’s true, I’ve got to get my hands on it.”
“You pay for it later, of course. The pills let you skip up to two days of sleep, but you crash hard. You need to make up every hour eventually.”
“Oh,” Tolvern said, disappointed. “So it’s just an upper. That sort of thing has been around forever. Since they discovered tea and coffee, if not before.”
