Ephialtes (Ephialtes Trilogy Book 1) (48 page)

Lund barked
into her comdev, “Steiner, Meades,
Hayes
.  I need
you back in your dropships now, ASAP!  This is an emergency,” as she ran
back to her office.

The
commanders had been following the attack on a large screen in the day
room.  Steiner, Meades and Hayes were still suited up from the test
earlier.  They ran to the hangar deck, half jumping down the stairs and
cursing the artificial gravity as they stumbled to the bottom.

Lund was
already loading the bay door opening routines as the three commanders clambered
up into their dropships.

“Initiating
checks,” said a slightly breathless Meades.

“No checks,”
said Lund.  “Follow emergency launch procedure, this is not a drill.”

“Emergency
launch procedure initiated.  Hey Lund, can you decompress?”

“Decompression
is happening right now, prepare to launch.”

Hayes cut in,
“I have a warning for reserve power on drone five here, please advise.”

“Ignore it,
initiate emergency launch procedure,” said Lund, her mind now purely focused on
launching the dropships as quickly as possible.  Everything else had
fallen away from her.

“Initiating
launch sequence,” said Meades.

“Initiating
launch sequence,” said Hayes.

“We’re about
to launch here,” said Steiner, “any chance you could open the doors for us?”

Lund keyed a
button on her terminal, “Initiating dropship bay door opening sequence,” she
said as she flipped to another terminal showing the video feed from Steiner’s
cockpit.  The drop bay door was directly in front of the ship.  Lund
stared at the door with absolute focus.

On the bridge
Lucero was staring intensely at her terminal.  She could see her missiles
moving towards the blip approaching them and she was waiting for something to
happen.  She wasn’t sure what it might be but she felt it might happen at
any moment.

Suddenly, the
approaching blip forked.  There were now two blips, with nine of her own
racing out to meet them.

“What just
happened?” said Lucero

“I think we
have a minimum of two missiles, taking different tracks to us,” said the
signals officer.

“Send three
of ours after the group taking the longest course.  Keep six on the one
still heading straight for us,” said Lucero.

“Aye, aye,
sir,” said the weapons officer.

Lucero saw
three of her missiles peel away, adjusting their course to meet the blip that
appeared to be veering away from them.  “What are they doing?” she
said.  “How long until we have them?”

“Twenty
seconds,” said the weapons officer.

As Lucero
looked at the screen she could see the blip headed at them elongate and then
split in two.  There were now three groups heading toward them; two in
line, growing further apart, and one that had split off at a tangent and was
now being chased down by three of her defensive missiles.

“Hold three
back for that second wave,” said Lucero.

“I can’t do
that, sir,” said the weapons officer, “they’re all at full speed.  We have
no brakes.”

Lucero saw
the tactic moments before it happened.  The forward batch of the in-line
group detonated as it met her own missiles.  They were gone.  The
rear group of the pair adjusted course, taking it out of the blast radius of
the three forward nukes, then adjusted again back on course for
Ephialtes
. 
There was now nothing standing between them and the approaching EMPs.

Lucero looked
at the three missiles that were chasing the decoys.  “Can we turn our
remaining three missiles back on this pack?” she said.

“Negative,
sir, our remaining missiles won’t make it back,” said the weapons officer.

“Prepare nine
more missiles for launch,” said Lucero.

“Preparing
missiles, Commodore.”

Everyone on
the bridge understood that the missiles would take a minimum of thirty seconds
to prepare.  The oncoming enemy missiles would arrive at
Ephialtes
in less than twenty seconds.

Lucero knew
she had been outmanoeuvred.  “Get on the cannon,” she said to no one.

“I have the
cannon, sir,” said another weapons officer.  He had brought up the control
program for the two plasma cannon mounted on the front of
Ephialtes
. 
They had been placed there for largely cosmetic reasons.  Having limited
functionality their purpose was to look suitably military and to fire the odd
salute on special occasions.  Now they were
Ephialtes’
last thin
hope of surviving a missile attack.

Lucero
thought about saying something poignant and understated to the weapons officer
manning the cannon but she decided against it.  ‘Now we’re screwed,’ would
have summed up their position nicely but, she thought, wouldn’t reflect well on
her in the history books.  She decided to stick with the prosaic.

“Fire at
will,” she said.

“Aye, aye,
sir,” said the weapons officer.

Lund nearly
crumpled as she saw the first drop-bay door start to open.  The
relief was physical.  Until it happened she had no awareness of how tensed
up she had been.  She quickly flipped up the feeds from the other two
bays; they were opening too.

“Bay doors
are opening, prepare to launch,” she said.

“Ready to go
here,” said Steiner, Meades and Hayes concurring.

Lund had the
radar screen up on one of her terminals.  From the corner of her eye she
saw
Ephialtes’
missiles disappear and the final wave of attack missiles
swerve gracefully as they continued on towards
Ephialtes
itself.

“Launch NOW!”
she said.

“Dr Lund, the
bay door -”

“NOW! 
Launch Now!  Shoot the doors out if you have to!”

Steiner’s
ship dropped from its mount and sped out of the bay.  “I’m clear,” he
said.

Meades too
dropped and launched, scraping the not quite fully open bay door on the way
out.  “Clear,” he said.

Hayes’ door
had been the last to open.  It was still only halfway down when she
dropped from her mount.  As instructed she fired a blast of cannon at the
bay door as she accelerated towards it.  The door broke into fragments and
her dropship half flew, half scraped its way through.  “I’m clear,
multiple debris strikes, will advise,” she said.

The junior
weapons officer manning the cannon had little hope against the three missiles
streaking towards him.  Even with aiming assists, the speed of the
missiles meant the window during which he would be able to fire would be less
than a second.  If he hadn’t been so scared and focused on his task he may
have reflected on his small part in history.  It would have something of
the flavour of the Alamo, or
Rorke’s
Drift, or maybe
Custer’s Last Stand.  Perhaps it was for the best that he didn’t have time
to give it any thought.

History buffs
and lovers of useless titbits of information would, in future years, revel in
the fact that against all odds, and with a greater reliance on luck than skill,
he did manage to successfully shoot down two of the approaching EMP missiles, a
fact that, while interesting and extraordinary, meant little to him or his
crewmates at the time.  They were forced by immediate circumstances to
look at the incident from another perspective; that one EMP got past him and
detonated less than three hundred metres above
Ephialtes
’ starboard bow.

Lund was in
darkness.  There were no windows in her office.  She had been aboard
Ephialtes
and
Otus
before when there had been power-outs. 
The lights would dim and flicker, and the auxiliary power would kick in,
powering only essential lights and thereby changing the ambience of the
ship.  Lund quite liked the mood of the emergency lighting; it made the
familiar seem new and intriguing.

This was
nothing like that.  It was total blackness and near total silence. 
Distantly she could hear voices, beyond that nothing.  She was
floating
.

She had
briefly frozen with fear.  She didn’t let the fear take control.  She
let it flow through her and allowed herself a moment of panic.  Then she
pushed it to one side and thought about what she needed to do next.

She craved
light.  She had never liked the darkness but until this moment she had
never really feared it.  Now she did, for she knew what it represented. 
She was determined to fight against it.  Feeling her way, she pulled
herself to her office door.  Touching the frame she knew she had achieved
something; she had taken her first step towards the bridge.

Steiner had
accelerated away from
Ephialtes
at maximum speed.  It was a drill
he had practiced over and over; the emergency launch.  He guessed Meades
would have done the same, too.  He tried to check in with Hayes.

“Hayes, how’s
that damage?”

-

“Hayes,
report on your damage, over?”

-

“I think she’s
off-coms,” said Meades.

“Do you have
a visual?” said Steiner.

“Negative,”
said Meades.  “Her transponder has stopped.  I wouldn’t even know
where to look.”

“Okay,” said
Steiner.  “What’s your
sitrep
?”

“I have three
bogies, inbound.”

“Roger that,”
said Steiner, “I have them on my screen.  Those three chasing are ours.”

“I know
that,” said Meades, “I’m taking evasive action and deploying countermeasures
anyways.”

“Roger,” said
Steiner.  He had taken a different course to Meades and was now hundreds
of kilometres away.  Meades had turned starboard to follow
Ephialtes’
course.  He was now in range of the decoy missiles, which were rapidly
closing on him.

“Change your
vector,” said Steiner.  “Those things must be nearly out of juice. 
You can out run them.”

“Can’t do
it,” said Meades.  “The speed I’d lose in the turn would be enough for
them to catch me.  Countermeasures and Hail Marys only.”

“How long to
impact?” said
Steiner.

“Twenty
seconds,” said Meades.  “I’m releasing chaff and flares right now,
preparing anti-missile missiles.”

“Do that,”
said Steiner.  “I’m coming in.”

“Is that
wise?” said Meades.

“No,” said
Steiner as he put his dropship into a tight turn.  He prepped his anti-missile
missiles and sped towards Meades.

“Missiles
away,” said Meades.

“Roger,” said
Steiner, “I’m coming straight at you, make sure your transponder isn’t
damaged.  I’m going to fire missiles, too.  Mine won’t have to turn
like yours and I have a better shot.”

“Roger that,
transponder is on,” said Meades.  “Don’t miss.”

Steiner could
see Meades’ position on his HUD.  As he hurtled towards it he could just
pick it out visually through his cockpit window.  Meades was racing
towards him with three missiles gaining pace behind.  Behind those Steiner
could just make out three more missiles, trying and failing to catch the three
ahead of them.  He could see from his HUD that these were friendly. 
His transponder would alert them that he was friendly too, and they should pose
no threat to him.  At that moment they posed no threat to the enemy
missiles either.

The closing
speed of the two dropships was very high.  When Steiner pressed the
missile release button he felt maybe he was too far out.  By the time his
missiles were away he worried he had left it too late.  “Missiles away,”
he said, and as he saw Meades’ dropship grow large in its approach he broke
right.

Immediately
he felt the impact of the explosions, and alarms sounded in his cockpit. 
Before his HUD flickered and died he saw that the enemy missiles had
gone.  The three useless friendly missiles continued on their harmless
way.

“Are you
there, Meades?”

-

“Meades, do
you copy?”

“I copy,”
said Meades, weakly.  “Nice try, but I don’t think we made it this time.”

“Meades, what
is your situation, over?”

Meades’
unbloodied eye roved around his cockpit.  The only console that was
working was lit up like Christmas with warning lights.  He could see he
was venting gas out into space.  With all the effort he could muster he
lifted an arm and pushed the main control stick.  There was no
response.  Briefly, he lost consciousness but quickly came round and
focused all his energies on replying to Steiner.

“Situation
is .
 . .”  He stopped to cough, but the
coughing hurt and he winced.  “Situation is I’m screwed,” he said.

Steiner pulled
on his stick and managed to bring his ship around enough that he could get a
visual on Meades.  It was easy enough to do.  He just followed the
stream of debris and particles from where the missiles had detonated. 
That area was a huge ball of flame that was easy to pick out in the blackness
of space.

“Listen,
Meades, I’m going to come by there, okay.  Try to stay conscious.” 
He pointed his dropship in Meades’ direction.

Meades
pressed the button on his com, but was too weak to make a reply.

The tiny portion
of the vast universe to which Steiner was headed briefly lit up, then blossomed
into another bright orange ball.

“Shit,” said
Steiner.  He looked at his control consoles.  The warning lights were
still flashing.  Guidance systems were compromised and life support, too.

He swung the
ship up and to the right.  In front of him was a large planet, the colour
of light rust.  He accelerated towards it.

“What
happened?” said Kostovich.

“
Ephialtes
remains on course,” said Baldwin.  “All communications have stopped. 
No further missiles have been released.”

“All our
nukes detonated successfully,” said Walton.  “Two EMPs stopped
transmitting telemetry data before detonation.  One EMP detonated
successfully.”

“Where was the
detonation?” said Kostovich.

“The
detonation, according to the data the missile was sending back to us, was
approximately three hundred metres off
Ephialtes
.”

“Other
missiles?” said Kostovich.

“The three
decoy explosive missiles finished up chasing down three dropships which
Ephialtes
deployed immediately before the EMP blast.  They all stopped transmitting
before detonation.  We have to assume they were destroyed by enemy
countermeasures, probably from the dropships themselves.”

“And where
are the dropships now?”

“One appears
to be electronically dead and drifting towards Martian orbit.  One seems
to have lost structural integrity shortly after we lost contact with our
missiles.  Friendly fire, maybe?  The other is intact and heading
towards us.”

“Give me the
range on that one and keep monitoring
Ephialtes
,” said Kostovich.

“The
remaining dropship is approximately fourteen thousand kilometres from
Parry 5
and turning away.”

“That’s still
in range.  Prepare three more explosive missiles and fire them at it,”
said Kostovich.

“Preparing
missiles,” said Walton.

“Fire as soon
as you’re ready,” said Kostovich.

“Fire when
ready, acknowledged,” said Walton, absentmindedly.

“What’s
Ephialtes
doing?”

“It’s not
doing anything,” said Baldwin.  “Apart from drifting along its
trajectory.  I think we killed it.”

“I think we
killed it too,” said Kostovich.

“Missiles
away,” said Walton.

A Helios
dropship was more than capable of taking itself through the thin Martian
atmosphere and landing at a designated point on the surface.  Despite
that, and for fun rather than from a sense of diligence, Steiner had spent many
hours manually piloting dropships from orbit to the planet’s surface in
IVRs.  As he glanced at the dead autopilot console he was glad he had. 
He still had some good orientation data available to him and enough fuel to
make the trip.  There was no contact from
Ephialtes
, and nothing
from its transponder.  He had to assume the worst; that the blast that had
taken out Hayes and damaged Meades was nuclear.  All indications were that
Ephialtes
was lost.  That made Steiner the last survivor.

It was as he
was concentrating on setting his flight plan that he noticed the incoming
missiles.  He was a thousand kilometres from the surface.  He decided
to abandon his route, pulling on his control stick to turn the ship around to
face the oncoming missiles.  His plan was to use the same technique as he
had used with Meades; to face the missiles head on.  The closing speed of
his ship and the missiles would be far higher than if the missiles were chasing
him, and that gave him an advantage: the guidance systems for the missiles
would be working at the very upper limits of their tolerances.  He planned
to head directly at the missiles and then, as late as possible, deploy chaff
and flares as he dodged out of the way.

He noticed
that the ship was not as responsive as it should be.  Although the stick
still had a full range of movement one quadrant had limited effect.  It
was still there, but limited.  He guessed there was damage to the aft left
ion thrusters.

Pulling out
of the turn he lined up with the incoming missiles.  They were closing
rapidly.  His HUD was not working but he could glance down at a console
and see the missiles represented there.  It would be around ten seconds to
contact.  He flipped some switches, manually preparing the
countermeasures.  For a split-second he wondered if they had been
damaged, too, before immediately discarding that thought.  It didn’t help
him, and he had no other options.  This was the plan, and he was going to
execute it.  If any element failed - the equipment or his
timing or judgement - so be it.  He had no time to waste
ruminating on the endless possibilities for failure.  All his
concentration was needed now for one thing only - executing the
plan.

He set his
remaining engines to full throttle, offsetting the pull with micro navigational
ion drives.  He programmed the launch of all counter measures to route
through to a button on his flight stick.  He stared forward through the
cockpit window and looked for any sign that the three enemy missiles were about
to be upon him.

Steiner knew
that with the combined speed of his dropship and the missiles the point at
which a visual could be established was likely to be a second or less before
contact.  He held his thumb over the fire button and stared intently at
the point where the missiles should appear.

When it came
it was like a new star growing out of the darkness and moving slightly, unlike
the others which remained fixed in the heavens.  The moment he saw it
Steiner fired the countermeasures and thrust his stick forward.  Before
he’d even finished his twitch response the missiles streaked massively over the
cockpit window and detonated.

Though the
explosions were behind him Steiner was briefly blinded by the flash.  He
felt the torsion as the blast passed the ship and the flight stick wrenched
itself out of his hand.  As his vision returned he noticed a new array of
alarms going off.  All of his consoles were now dead except for one. 
He noted that the one live console was one that had been dead before.  The
second blast had somehow knocked it back to life.  Ordinarily he would
have dwelt on the weirdness, but with a planet looming above him and limited
controls he forgot about it almost as he was noticing it.

Shaking the
muzziness
out of his head he grabbed the flight
stick.  Now there was even less response from it.  He could drop the
nose of the ship a little, and he could pull her to the right, but that was
it.  No up, no left.  He tried adjusting power to the engines.
 Nothing happened.  They were on half power, knocked back from the
full they had been on.  That was something he could work with.  If he
had been stuck with the engines on full his prospects might have been very
different.  As it were, they were not good.