The Terran Gambit (Episode #1: The Pax Humana Saga) (2 page)

They were far too proud.

Too devious.

But several of the client worlds in the Corsican empire boasted cultures that favored the tactic. New Kyoto especially—that world was one of the first to join the empire, sitting just a few light-years from Corsica itself. Its original settlers had shunned violence and devoted itself to building an enlightened agrarian world, but a string of devastating pirate raids over the centuries had convinced them of the need for a more aggressive defense, and when the Corsicans came along with the idea of the Pax Humana, the New Kyotans were the first to climb on board.

“Carrier four, evasive maneuvers! Suicide runner coming in! Evasive man—” Jake shouted into the comm, and Kit pelted the ship with everything their fighter had, but in the three seconds it took him to bark his instructions, he knew it was too late. The smoking craft burst into a fireball, and the expanding debris field just missed their port wing, but it smashed right into the bow of the troop carrier.

“Dammit!’ Jake could see the damage from the impact. Twisted metal and glass and bodies flew from the impact zone which spewed wicked-looking flames fanned by what he could only guess were ruptured oxygen tanks and fuel lines. “Status of the carrier?” he barked to Kit.

“Life support holding. Emergency bulkheads moving into place. Ship is intact, but casualties unknown.”

A deeper voice than before crackled over the comm. “Viper squad, this is Corporal Daniels. Lieutenant Gomez is dead. Warner too. Our approach vector got thrown off and our nav system is down. Please advise, over.”

Kit swore, and keyed open the comm. “Daniels, adjust your approach five degrees to port. Be ready to decelerate in ten seconds and revert to maneuvering thrusters only. Copy?”

“Copy.” An explosion sounded over the comm, followed by yells and garbled voices.

“Daniels, you still with us?” Jake shouted into the microphone.

Only a cacophony of yells, klaxons, and screeching metal answered him. He glanced over at Kit, who shook his head. The nearest construction ring of the shipyard loomed ahead of them, holding the floating skeleton of a half-completed capital ship in the center. Eleven other construction rings held other ships just like it, in various stages of completion.

“Roger. Still here, Viper six. Deceleration in three, two, one …”

Jake smiled as he saw the carrier halt as if it suddenly got caught in thick molasses, and began turning to starboard using its maneuvering thrusters.

“Good work, Daniels. Now, bring your belly right up against the central shaft of that ring and have at her.” He surveyed the construction ring, a massive arc of metal surrounding the newly built capital ship. Hundreds of viewports dotted the surface of the ring, each a home to some workman or mechanic that made his or her living in space, building the future of Earth’s contribution to the Corsican Imperial Fleet. Most of them were probably looking out those windows and cheering them on, he surmised. Welders, electricians, technicians—most blue collar workers tended to be pro-Resistance.

“Viper six, we’ve got a problem,” Daniels’ voice said over the comm. “Cutting crew says our hull penetration system is out. Completely destroyed from that impact. We’re stuck in here, sir.”

“No auxiliary units? Who’s in command there, anyway?”

Garbled crackling answered him, followed by Daniels finishing his sentence. “—destroyed in the blast. I’m afraid I’m it, sir. Command staff is all dead or severely wounded.”

“Roger. Stand by.” Jake glanced over at Kit. “What do you think?”

“Head back to the
Fury
. They’re useless out here now.”

“Give up?”

“What else can we do? There’s ten other carriers. They’ll have to do without this one.”

Jake shook his head. “No. We can’t just give up. We have no idea how many carriers are making it through. Dammit, Kit, this is the big op. This is it. If we lose this one we lose the war.”

Daniels’ voice crackled over the comm. “Sir, if you’ve got any ideas, I’m all ears. I’ve got a special mission to complete over here, on Admiral Pritchard’s orders himself.”

Jake’s eyebrows raised a hair. Admiral Pritchard gave a lowly corporal a special mission?

“Hold on. I’ll ask Mission Command back on the
Fury
,” said Kit.

Jake stared at the bulkhead of the central shaft of the construction ring, barely listening to Kit talk to the Ops team back on the
Fury
. He thought of the last few weeks—the uprising had gone well. Extremely well, in fact. They had encountered significant resistance, but all of their targets had fallen in quick succession.

Intel reports said that the main bulk of the Corsican fleet was still occupied putting down the November Clan rebellion in the Titanis sector, and a myriad of other worlds were in other stages of unrest, requiring critical military resources and drawing the Empire’s attention away from potential hotspots.

Hotspots like Earth.

Not to mention the ongoing conquests of the Corsicans. By last count, they had recently conquered their six hundred and twelfth planet out of the thousand or so settled worlds.

And over sixty years ago, Earth was the five hundredth—almost like an anniversary prize for the Corsican Emperor on his golden jubilee.  Jake clenched his fist. No. Giving up was the last resort.

“Ops says two more carriers are lost,” Kit said, grimly. “But they say to guard the carrier until the repair crew on board can fix the hull penetration unit.”

“And if they can’t? Sounds like they’re not doing too hot over there. Repair crew could be dead.”

Kit shook his head. “They didn’t say.”

Still eyeing the construction ring’s bulkhead, a thought struck Jake.

“Rooster, fire a quick burst at that bay door over there.”

Kit snapped his head over to the pilot. “You’re kidding, right? Our orders are to take the shipyards undamaged.”

“Mostly undamaged, Rooster, mostly undamaged. Come on. Just a quick burst. I’ll get on the horn to Daniels.” He thumbed on the comm. “Daniels, Viper six. Are you fellas ready for boarding?”

Daniels’ deep voice sounded over the speakers. “Yes, sir. About two hundred grunts locked and loaded. But sir—”

Two hundred? Out of four hundred? Jake shook his head in quiet disbelief. “Just get your helmets on, soldier. Prepare for vacuum—”

Kit’s voice interrupted. “Contact. Two o’clock and down.”

“Crash, you got them?” Jake said.

“On it, Shotgun,” said the voice over the comm, and Jake saw the other fighter sweep past to meet the intruder.

Kit turned to Jake. “Ok, what the hell do you think you’re going to do?”

“We’re going to blast a hole in that bay door and the marines will disembark in vacuum and secure the entryways into that bay.”

“No, we’re not. That bay isn’t even half as big as the carrier. She’ll never fit in there.”

Jacob waved a hand. “The tail will fit in, at least. That’s all they need.”

“And what if it doesn’t work, Jake? That’s two hundred soldiers out there.”

“If it doesn’t work, the empire wins. Dammit, Kit, they know what they signed up for. So do you. This is their best chance to get on that ring. The sooner this thing is secure, the sooner we can move on to Tranquility base, and then out to the Jupiter and Saturn bases. That’s going to take weeks, and by then the empire will have put down the November rebellion and will turn to focus on us. We’re not a prize the emperor will let slip out of his hands lightly.”

Kit threw up his hands. “It’s crazy, Jake, let’s think this through.”

“I have. Now fire! That’s an order.”

Kit glared at him. His friend resented any mention of their disparate ranks; after all, they joined the Resistance Fleet at the same time. “Yes, sir.” His lips curled.

Red streaks shot out from the fighter and punctured the bay door, and they watched as the interior atmosphere steamed out through the gaping hole left behind.

“Again. Take out the whole door.”

“Jake, these guns aren’t meant for cutting. I’ll have to unload our whole battery at that thing to get it off.”

He was right. Jake supposed his gunner felt a little smug for revealing to him the obvious, but his mind was already moving.

Flipping the ship around one-eighty, he brought the tail right up next to the door, five meters off. Locking onto the orbital vector of the shipyards and engaging the gravitic brake—which would ensure no drift in the ship’s position relative to the construction ring—he punched the conventional thrusters to full power. Past full power.

Ten shafts of white-hot exhaust blazed out from the rear. Within moments, they’d had their effect, and a huge section of the door crumpled inward. Cutting the thruster power, he thumbed open the comm.

“Daniels, you’re clear to go. Navigate the carrier so your ass sticks into that bay, then engage a gravitic brake.”

“Gravitics are out, sir. Thrusters only.”

Damn.

“Told you we should have thought it through,” said Kit.

Jake ignored him. “Daniels, maneuver in anyway, and wedge the ship against what’s left of the bay door, then fire full reverse thrusters for a quarter of a second. That’ll get you stuck in there nice and good. Rooster and I will back up against you and hold you in for a minute till you guys can all disembark. All suited up?”

“Affirmative, sir. Just give the word.”

Jake smiled. “Go! Happy hunting.”

“Aye, sir.”

Kit eyed the sensor screen for contacts, and assured that they were clear, looked out at the raging space battle all around them. “You better hope this works.”

“It will, Kit.” Jake eyed the concern on Kit’s face. “And if it doesn’t, it’s all my responsibility. You’re clear of this.” He wondered what would happen to him if it didn’t work, if somehow the marines got stuck outside the carrier but couldn’t get inside the hallways beyond the landing bay. Demoted, most likely. Sent to prison for a few months or years—the Resistance had no problem recruiting these days and he was certainly replaceable.

They watched as the carrier slowly rotated into position, its rear flank pointing towards the gaping hole in the bay door. Thin white jets streamed out of the front thrusters—less than one percent power, Jacob judged—and the craft gradually drifted backward into the hole, until he could almost swear he heard the creaking and squealing of the protesting metal. In fact, they did hear it, coming over the open comm.

Jake nodded. “That’s right, Daniels, nice and easy. When you stop, punch it for a quarter second.”

“Aye, sir.”

The carrier inched backward, until finally the remains of the metal door had given all they could yield, and the advance stopped. The thrusters roared to life for a fraction of a second and the carrier jolted backward momentarily, wedging itself firmly into place. Jake maneuvered the front of the fighter up to the ruined remains of the carrier, until the nose of his craft nestled firmly in the wreckage. Jake smiled. Like they’re kissing.

Groaning metal reverberated through the cabin as Jake applied nominal power to the aft thrusters. “That’s it, Daniels, we’re nudged up against you good and tight. It’s all you now. Good luck, soldier.”

“Thank you, viper six. Give us two minutes to get out. We’ll leave a medic behind to tend the wounded, so don’t go nowhere. Daniels out.”

Just as the marine signed off, Kit swore. “Multiple contacts. Six o’clock. Three—no four. And that’s not all. Jake,” he looked up to the pilot, “they’re coming from a new capital ship that shifted into orbit just ten klicks away. Corsican. From Bismark, by the looks of it.”

So, a Bismarkian capital ship. Jake gritted his teeth. Bismark was the other world, along with New Kyoto and Corsica, that formed the first triumvirate of worlds in the early Corsican empire, and had the reputation of being the most ruthless of the three. He peered out the viewport.

Sure enough, there it was, just barely visible, barreling towards Liberty Station. Packed with over fifty railguns and a host of laser turrets and ion-beam cannons, the massive Bismarkian capital cruiser had built up a reputation for itself over the years—one of heavy-handed repression and destruction.

“I assume command has seen it. Ask for more cover,” said Jake. He heard Kit talk with central command as he thumbed his comm open. “Crash, you see that?”

“Yeah, I see it. We’re about to have one hell of a ride.”

Kit turned to look at him. “Command says the
Fury
is still occupied with the other two Corsican capital ships. They can spare two squads of fighters and three frigates to help, but that’s it.” He glanced out the side viewport at the rapidly approaching vessel. “They’re nearly here.”

A slow whistle over the comm burst the momentary silence. “Well doesn’t that just suck Rooster’s giant co—”

“Crash, cover us until the last of the marines get off the carrier, then we’re heading out there with you,” Jake said, interrupting the man before Kit blew a gasket.

“What about the medics and wounded still on board?”

“We can defend them better if we’re directly engaging the enemy rather than sitting here with our ass exposed.”

At least, that’s what Jake hoped.

Corporal Daniels sprang out onto the wide ramp of the carrier with four other marines and dashed to the entrance door of the landing bay, the boots of their armored ASA suits pounding against the debris-littered deck. There was no echo to hear since the bay was at vacuum, but their All-Situation-Armor had about an hour’s supply of oxygen so he was not particularly worried about air at the moment. What worried him was that the door from the bay into the rest of the central shaft was closed, and probably locked. A stocky marine bent down to test the handle, and sure enough, it didn’t budge.

“Stand aside,” said the marine next to him, a wiry young woman shouldering a plasma-rpg launcher.

“Take cover!” she yelled, but didn’t even wait for anyone to move or crouch down. Their ASA suits would more than protect them, and besides, they were in a hurry, dammit.

A bright ball of intense, blinding energy shot across the bay, slamming into the door. Extreme induced temperature gradients within the door vaporized pockets of metal, sending twisted fragments blasting out in all directions, peppering the surrounding marines who at least shielded their faces, and when the smoke cleared—smoke looks so odd in a vacuum, Daniels thought—the battalion began the advance through the door into the hallway beyond.