Starbound (7 page)

“I sent out an automated distress to
Starb
ound
when we launched,” said Lena Babayan. “But I don't know if they heard it through the interference those weapons put out or not.”

The cluster of dots, the automatons, was closing on us. I estimated we had maybe three minutes left before they could target us.

“How much fuel do each of you have left in your cone jets?” I asked. They all replied with a different answer. Babayan had forty-six seconds, Marker twelve, Verhunce had sixteen and I had nine. Nine seconds of fuel left.

There wasn't much else to it. If we weren't going to be rescued, then we had to find a way to survive.

“Everyone rotate and face the robots,” I ordered, “but keep your fuel use to the absolute minimum.” I managed to turn toward the approaching automatons with minimal effort and expending only a tiny fraction of fuel. Once we were positioned, I gave my tactical orders. We were all spread out a bit and I wasn't sure everyone was in range of the low-F radio. Once we completed our maneuvers, it was a certainty we wouldn't be.

“Each one of you relay these instructions to the next man. I won't be repeating them. By my estimate we have barely a minute or two at best before those things can fire on us. The only way to maximize our survivability is to use our remaining cone jet fuel to propel ourselves into a stagger formation, each of us a bit further distance from the last man. Keep your rifles drawn and focused on the robots. As they come into range I will open fire first and take out as many as
I can. Then Marker will do the same, then Verhunce, and then you, Lena,” I said.

“No,” Babayan said. To my surprise she was still in radio range. “We can form a cluster and go as far as our total fuel will carry our mass.”

“And then we'll be a big pile, a single target. In short, we'd be sitting ducks. No, we'll follow my plan. It gives each of us the optimal time to hope for a rescue from
Starbound
,” I said.

“But you have the least fuel. You'll be killed first,” said Babayan.

“I'm well aware of that, Colonel,” I said. “Believe me, it's not my desired outcome, but it's what we have to do to maximize our survivability. And the more time we spend here talking about it the closer those robots get. You will carry out my orders. Sergeant Marker will begin the countdown from five.”

Marker did as he was ordered, and we all fired. I watched as the distance between me and the robot cluster lengthened just a bit, but I soon expelled the last of my fuel and began drifting. The automatons compensated, then began gaining on us again. I calculated that my nine-second burst saved me about thirty seconds before they could fire on me. But that meant forty-five seconds for Marker, a bit more than a minute for Verhunce, and maybe three minutes for Babayan. It wasn't much, but I'd take it in this situation.

I aimed and charged my rifle. It looked like I had enough power for three to four ten-second bursts of coil fire. Probably not enough, and their guns had already proven they had a better range than mine, but I was going to give it all I had.

The cluster was close enough now for me to see them in individual detail. They were still ten seconds out of my range when they started firing. I attempted to dodge and dip, anything to keep their green fire off of me, and for a few seconds it actually seemed to be working. Their aim was not as good in space, it seemed.

Then a strange thing happened. They started firing past me, over
my shoulder toward something, or someone, else. My guess was that it was Marker, disobeying me and coming to my aid with some kind of jet fuel reserve.

I was wrong.

“Whoo-hoo!” I heard the Maori warrior yelling through my radio. I looked up just as I fell into the shadow of
Starbound
's Downship, a light shuttle usually used for diplomatic missions. I watched as it came between me and the robot cluster, firing away with its wing-mounted coil pulse-cannons. It wasn't close to the firepower that one of our military shuttles carried, but it was probably equivalent to two dozen marines firing in a single connected burst.

The first shot broke up the robot cluster, with amber body parts flying every which way. The rest came so fast that I had to turn away from the laser flashes. When they subsided I could see the Downship slowly floating through the wreckage of the robots. Then it fired thrusters and turned back toward me.

“Thank you,
Starbound
!” yelled Marker. “I guess they got Babayan's call. You okay, Commander?”

“I am now,” I said. “And whoever's flying that plane is going to get a promotion if I have anything to say about
it!”

T
he man f
lying the Downship t
urned out to be Geor
ge Layton. I called
in by com to
Starbou
nd
and immediately p
ut him in for his li
eutenant commander's
clusters, but Macli
ntock said we alread
y had our full compl
ement, so in lieu of
that, or until one
of us got killed, he
was promoted to Lie
utenant Grade III, o
r Super-Lieutenant.
He would be the only
one on the ship wea
ring three bars on h
is collar and everyo
ne below him would h
ave to salute him. T
hat plus the pay rai
se wasn't enough in
my book, but it woul
d have to do.

The more difficult part would be the debriefing. Maclintock would want answers as to what had happened to his marines. But before I could tell him, Dobrina got to me first. She buzzed into my stateroom com as I was changing out of my EVA suit and back into my uniform just prior to the debriefing. “Come in, XO,” I said over the com. She opened the door and came through the threshold, then shut it behind her and stood across the room, staring at me. “Yes?” I prompted her as I continued dressing.

“You could have been killed out there,” she said.

“I'm well aware of that. More than you know.” I thought about Private Jensen, cut clean in half.

“You've got to stop taking so many chances, Peter,” she said, then put her hands behind her back in a very formal gesture.

“Is that my XO speaking, or my lover?” I responded as I bent down to slide on my shoes. I wasn't in the mood for a lecture. I'd lost thirty-three men and women under my command.

Now she looked cross at me. “I'm speaking for us both,” she replied. “You don't understand how much risk you take sometimes. You can be brilliant, like with that damnable hybrid drive. But other times your intuition has a price. This time it was too high a price.”

I stopped. “I'm well aware of that, Commander,” I said. “We left enough dead bodies on that station to remind me every day for the rest of my life.” I sat there on the edge of my bed, hunched over. I put my hands to my head and rubbed my face, holding back tears. I couldn't get visions of Rosler being beheaded, of Horlock taking a deadly blow to the chest, or of Aydra Jensen out of my head. I took in a deep breath. The next thing I knew Dobrina was standing over me, her hands rubbing my shoulders and neck, trying to comfort me.

“Your intuition told you that the mystery power source was above you. You wanted answers, so you convinced Maclintock and you went. But your intuition can't tell you if that decision is good or bad, only that you're correct in your assumption. This time it cost us many lives. Most of all, it almost cost us
you
,” she said quietly.

I rubbed the tears out of my eyes. She pulled me close to her, my head resting against her body while I sobbed quietly.

“My heart aches at how many we've lost, here and on
Impulse
,” she said quietly. “But it would break if I ever lost you.”

We stayed like that for a few minutes more. Then I stood and started buttoning up my uniform jacket. “The captain is waiting for me. He'll want answers,” I said.

“He will,” she replied, looking up at me.

“Then let's go give them to him,” I said.

“So you were completely overwhelmed by a superior force of automated . . . robots?” Maclintock said, incredulous. He, Dobrina, Serosian, and myself were the only ones in on the debriefing, held in the command deck staff room. Marker, Babayan, and Verhunce had been sent down to console the remaining marine PFCs on the loss of so many of their comrades, more than half our full complement of sixty. I thought about that.

Thirty-three marines.

“Yes, sir,” I replied, stating it as a matter of fact. “In my opinion, that base should be destroyed as our first course of action.”

“That's to be determined,” snapped Maclintock. “Describe these . . . robots.” It was almost as if he couldn't bring himself to say the word.

“Gold in color, bipedal, similar to humans in shape, but large, two and a half meters tall I'd say. And they carried a type of coil rifle that emitted a green energy beam that was incredibly destructive. I saw marines dismembered, cut in half right through their armor and shielding, and a combined volley from just three of them destroyed both of our shuttles as we exited the landing deck. It was devastating,” I finished. In addition to our regular armor, the new marine EVA suits also had a static energy field that pulsed at variable frequencies as a protection against energy weapons fire. It hadn't made a bit of difference in the firefight.

Maclintock looked to Serosian. “Are these robots an Imperial design?” The Historian shook his head.

“Unlikely,” he said.

“And of course there's the fact that we discovered hundreds of
dead Imperial Marine bodies, enough to nearly fill a massive lifter shaft,” I interjected.

“So if not Imperial,” said Dobrina, looking at Serosian. “Then what is this station?”

The Earth Historian clasped his hands in front of him, looking pensive. He clearly didn't
wan
t
to answer the question, but his duty to us demanded that he did. We all watched him, waiting for an answer.

“There are stories, myths really, that at the end of their cycle of time, the Founders created an advanced group of machines to conduct much of their menial labor, deep-space exploration, even military missions. It is also said of these myths that these machines had much to do with the Founders' downfall. We have never encountered functioning machines of this kind before, and what we do have is just bits and pieces of technology. It's almost as if when the machines turned on their creators, the Founders had some sort of self-destruct they activated as a fail-safe. This has left very little trace of the technology of these machines,” he said.

“And you think these robots could be an active remnant of those machines?” asked Maclintock.

“The description fits. It seems likely,” admitted the Historian.

“You know, I don't care about any of this. I just care that I lost thirty-three marines, and I want that station destroyed to keep that from ever happening again,” I said, rather pointedly.

“You need to keep your emotions in check here, mister,” said Maclintock. “Those marines were under your command. I'm not blaming you directly for their deaths, but their lives were your responsibility. You'd do well to set your emotions aside for the time being and try to think and behave rationally, like a senior officer should.”

That stung. I took a deep breath. “Aye, sir.”

“This station could become a very valuable artifact for our research into the Founders and what destroyed them,” said Serosian.
“Clearly at some point in the past the First Empire tried to take over the station.”

“And failed,” said Dobrina. She tilted her head toward me just slightly, a show of support in her body language, then looked past me to the captain. “I'm inclined to agree with Commander Cochrane, sir. We should destroy this station,” she said to Maclintock.

“But it could be invaluable,” said Serosian in an argumentative tone. It was as emotional as I'd ever seen him. “We could learn how to avoid the mistakes the Founders made, critical mistakes.” Dobrina was about to respond when Maclintock raised his hand to interrupt the debate.

“I appreciate your position, Mr. Serosian. But the fact is that we have thirty-three dead here. That station is a menace, and I'm ordering its destruction. The only question is how,” said Maclintock.

“It's quite a massive thing,” said Dobrina.

“And likely hardened against atomic attack or energy weapons,” added Serosian. I could see he was upset about losing the station, but that he also understood that this was Maclintock's decision.

The captain looked at me. “Suggestions, Commander?” he said, giving me another chance. I appreciated the act. He didn't have to consult me, as I was the lowest ranking officer present.

“We could tow it into the jump space tunnel and let its mass suck it into the Jenarus star,” I said. Serosian shook his head.

“We would have a power curve issue with that maneuver,” he said.

Maclintock eyed the Historian. “I understand we went through several weapons upgrades during our stay at Candle. Care to share any of the new technology we've added?”

Serosian looked reluctant to answer. Then: “There is one possibility,” he said. We all waited for him to continue, but his silence said volumes. I knew this meant he didn't want to share a new weapons technology unless he absolutely had to.

Maclintock leaned back deep in his chair. “I'm waiting, Historian,” he said quietly. Serosian looked at me.

“I'll need the commander's help to deploy this technology, Captain. And I would prefer to wait on discussing its function until it's ready for use,” he said.

Maclintock nodded, then looked at me. “Work with him, Commander. Then report back to me when you're ready to move.”

“Aye, sir,” I said. Maclintock stood abruptly and strode out of the room. Dobrina followed him without a word to me.

“I appreciate your help on this, Peter,” said Serosian. I looked at him. Thirty-three marines. This was grim business.

“Let's just get this done,” I said.

Twenty minutes later we were ensconced in Serosian's quarters, which was in actuality part of an entirely separate ship from
Starbound
, the Historian's yacht. That fact, however, was not known to the vast majority of the crew, and Serosian much preferred to keep it that way. The yacht had served us well during the
Impulse
incident at Levant, functioning as both a rescue vehicle and a diplomatic vessel, and in the end a warship in the fight to save our doomed sister ship. We were a full deck below the public spaces of his quarters, inside the command deck nerve center of the powerful vessel.

Serosian motioned to a chair at the main console and I joined him as he activated the main viewing display, a full three-dimensional holographic projection that took up the entire forward wall of the yacht's command deck. On the screen there appeared a set of what looked like 2-D schematics to me, though what technology was being represented I couldn't be sure. There were some electrical symbols I recognized but others I had never seen before. I wasn't unfamiliar
with technical drawings, especially of electrical interfaces, but this one baffled me.

“What am I looking at?” I blurted out as Serosian swept his hands across the smooth display console, his fingers sinking under the surface as if it were liquid, though he had never pulled back a wet finger from the console that I had ever seen.