Armageddon's Pall: Spiral War Book 4 Read online

  Tam slammed himself back into his seat as their bomber-sized craft skidded within a few kilometra of the Gorvian juggernaut’s surface. Even with their acceleration compensators and slipstream drive lightening the load on their bodies the G-Forces forced his vision to dim and grey. Tam struggled to breathe, unwilling to look at the G-meter as everything on his displays blurred beyond recognition. Rounding the aft end of the ship, the G-Forces let up and they rocketed away. Tam didn’t dare relax however. “Is our path clear?”

  Tolgen managed to shake his head despite his immersion in the shroud interface. The sensor display lit up with hundreds of contacts between them and the fleet. Most were small, but far too many were larger ships. Worse than that, more than he could count were on vectors that would intercept any course back to the jump point before they could reach the system-wide jamming.

  Tam looked each of his crewmates in the eyes. The decision before him was unenviable. But the data they’d managed to secure was worth more than their lives if it meant stopping whatever plans the Gorvians had for their planet killer. Tam reached into his kit and pulled out a length of braided seaweed longer than his arm. He looked at the dozens of knots along its length then up at Tolgen as he produced his own. “I doubt I’ll get to untie these ones,” he said and began tying new knots into the cord. “Begin transmission. High-powered data bursts. Get the fleet as much as you can.”

  Monstero Nach 03

  Blazer jinked hard to his left before the giant missile streaked over his shoulder and exploded ahead of him. The shrapnel pelted his shields, weakening the ionic barrier as it swatted away the metallic fragments. Blazer slammed his foot down on his rudder pedal and spun about to face his attacker. The bomber-sized fighter was an intimidating sight but Blazer had faced several this cycle already. More heavily armed then he could ever hope to be, their size required mass reductions in their armor to give them serviceable acceleration. He lined up his sights on the left outrigger engine of the trimaran design and squeezed the trigger.

  He hesitated to look at the number of rounds remaining and continued his assault before Marda’s and Gavit’s fighters swooped in and hammered the craft as well. The engine detonated under the onslaught; tossing the craft aside before Blazer spun about and raced towards the relative safety of the Mercy’s guns. Still panting, he checked his status. His missile and torpedoes were long gone, his bio-cannons depleted and he had enough plasma in his plaser cannon reserves for maybe three more bursts. He checked his fuel state next. It wasn’t much better and he didn’t dare siphon away any to recharge his plaser cannons - not if he wanted to make it back to the ship.

  “Four, Six, Three, Status check. We’re about out of everything.”

  “This is Four, not much better here. Have two missiles left and that’s it.”

  “One missile and about sixty rounds for the plasers. We even managed to burn out our Narfics,” Gavit replied.

  “Blazer, Zithe’s group is in trouble and we’re the closest,” Arion announced.

  “Damn! Four, Six, on me. I’m not losing anyone this cycle,” Blazer ordered.

  Blazer wheeled his fighter about towards Zithe’s flight group and gunned his throttle. After canceling out the last of his previous momentum he rocketed off towards the other three ships. What he saw as he approached froze his spine. Both Chris’ and Mikle’s fighter were blackened. Stray sparks erupted from their fuselages with every maneuver; the interference zones where their shields met visible and growing.

  Zithe wasn’t faring much better as he engaged one of the fighter types that they’d had back in the Nimbus System. Intelligence analysts had dubbed them 6DF fighters. The name was appropriate, and this one demonstrated that now; dancing about in all directions to get a clear shot at Zithe. But the Lycan at the controls was quick and evaded each burst, though a few did singe his armor.

  “One Zero, Three, we’re coming straight for you. Lead him to us.”

  Zithe replied with a double click on the link and Blazer tried to guess where the Gorvian would maneuver next. “Four, time to use those last two missiles. Try and force the fighter to go above One Zero. Six, as soon as our friendly is clear, give ‘em all you’ve got left.”

  Both pilots signaled their affirmatives. Marda dropped her fighter several hundred metra ‘down’ to below Zithe’s flight path while Blazer and Gavit moved ‘up.’

  Blazer and his wingmen closed the distance and once they were on the edge of their weapon’s effective range called out. “Now Four!”

  The two missiles raced ahead and just as Blazer predicted, the Gorvian 6DF vaulted up to avoid them, and right into Blazer’s and Gavit’s guns. The pair opened fire, perforating the Gorvian’s shields before their plaser rounds sheared away at the armor and thruster ports. The fighter floundered for a moment and then Marda’s missiles found their mark in its belly. The two warheads detonated, shredding what remained of the fighter’s shields and shattering the fusion bulbs of the right engine. The fighter exploded in a brilliant flash before Blazer and Gavit raced past.

  Blazer breathed a sigh of relief. But it was short-lived. A hail of plaser rounds shot past and through his nose. His alert panel shone with colors he’d only seen in the manual as his sensors and SIS both went dead. Blazer hauled back on his stick and hammered the slide control to the right. The blur of a Gorvian heavy fighter raced past as he fought to maintain control of his craft. “We’re hulled,” he called out.

  “I noticed,” Arion replied half over the internal comm and half out loud. “I’ve lost the forward array. Landing gear is gone. Narfics are toasted and so is the left reverse thruster.”

  “Do we have anything?” Blazer asked and looked out at the damaged exhaust. The clamshells that covered it in atmospheric flight and served as its thrust vectoring vanes were gone, as were the maneuvering thrusters.

  “I’ve got the main sensors, but they’re fuzzy. And we’ve got no weapons left.”

  Blazer looked down at the eject lever between his legs. He dragged his eyes away and searched the sky for his attacker. It was on a direct course for the Mercy. The heavy fighters doubled as torpedo bombers. “All Units, Nach Three, we have a Gorvian heavy making a torpedo run on the Mercy. Can anyone assist?”

  Tadeh Qudas’ cool voice penetrated the link. “Have them in sight.”

  “All fighters, Mercy Control, return to base. Repeat, return to base.”

  Blazer couldn’t believe his ears as he looked towards their home. Gorvian fighters were still in their space, the Mercy’s beam cannons lancing out at those it could reach. To order a retreat now would be suicide.

  He shook that off and focused on the fighter attacking him. He had no way to attack except to ram it. His thumb hovered over the afterburner switch as he decided what to do. Before Blazer could decide, plasma rounds ripped one of the heavy fighter’s outrigger engines free and Tadeh Qudas’ fighter streaked past. His fighter flipped over, and carried by its momentum, Tadeh Qudas fired into the central cockpit. The fighter jerked under the onslaught and tumbled out of control away from the Mercy.

  “Monstero Nach, Lead, return to the Mercy. The whole fleet is exiting the system.”

  “Nach Three copies,” Blazer replied as the rest of the squadron linked in. He looked about as best he could. The loss of his SIS limited his view. A look to his left revealed that most of the canopy to that side had blackened. It wasn’t a good sign, it was a sure signal of a plasma leak from the reverse thruster. “Arion?”

  “Already sealed it off. We’re in a bad way B, and so is everyone else. What in the Sheol did we just fly into?”

  Blazer didn’t want to think about that as the Mercy grew ahead of them. Never had its organic lines looked so inviting. “Who’s covering the retreat?”

  “Whatever cruisers and corvettes are left. All the fighters are being recalled,” Arion replied, his voice full of remorse.

  “Damn,” Blazer hissed and activated his link. “Mercy contro…”

  “All fight
ers, Mercy Control, emergency multi-dock is authorized. Get yourselves aboard.”

  That set Blazer’s blood to ice and he looked up to find all the fighter docking hatches had opened with their docking claws extended. These landings were some of the most hazardous to conduct. Before he could say anything, a docking list appeared. He and Arion would be the ninth fighter to dock, with those having taken worse damage moving in first. Blazer slid his throttle back to allow the damaged fighters ahead; their damage sickened him.

  Trevis and Telsh led the way, their right engine exhaust fused shut, the back half of that wing gone. The underside of their fighter lay exposed to space, the armor torn away.

  Mikle and Acknit went next. The damage Blazer had seen before appeared miniscule, but a blast had pierced their fighter boring a hole between their engines. The hole looked far too close to the photon energizer core for Blazer’s comfort.

  Porc and Nash docked next, their left wing was gone. Their right wasn’t in much better shape. It proceeded on like that, with each craft having progressively less damage. No one returned to the ship without battle scars.

  After the last fighter had docked the claws retracted back into the hangar but Blazer couldn’t relax. The dim lights within did nothing to soothe him as the technicians waited in the wings, strapped into their jump seats while the Mercy prepared to enter hyperspace. Blazer and Arion raced to shut down their fighter’s systems before the ship lurched around them and pierced the barrier between universes to escape.

  Command Center, UCSBS Nosh’Tak

  Admiral Quin Tosh remained focused on the tactical display as her task force retreated. It was a shell of what it had once been. Their fighter force had faced a massacre, the recon flights destroyed, and her surviving capital ships were all damaged. It was the biggest loss of her military career. She rubbed her eyes. They were more prepared than we ever could have guessed. And we still didn’t get what we came for.

  She hung her head and prepared to turn away as the death plume of another corvette lit the holographic display. “Have we recovered our remaining fighters?” she asked, feeling like the mass of the universe rested on her shoulders.

  “All those that would return. Some are, some refuse to land,” her aide replied.

  She nodded and considered joining them.

  “Admiral, we’re getting a signal. Multiple data packets,” one of the intelligence technicians called out.

  The admiral rushed over to the consoles. “Some of the sloops survived?”

  “I’m getting a huge data dump from one, and some smaller packets from others. But it’s the data!” the young technician called out, his excitement palpable.

  “Show me!”

  “It’s encrypted, but they sent the following image in the clear.”

  Admiral Quin Tosh almost fell over backwards at the enormity of the ship when it appeared. The scale was planetary and she felt beyond cold as she gazed upon it.

  “How can we beat that?” someone asked.

  Swallowing her fear as best she could, she reared up on her hind legs. “We will find a way. Now get us out of here. Do not let the sacrifices of our fallen be in vain.”

  Make Your Mama Cry

  Tam’s prayer rope floated in his hand as he held tight to his controls. They’d long since dropped any pretense of stealth as they raced back towards the jump point, but he knew what was coming. He dared not take his eyes off his last working display as he focused on the navigational beacon of a retreating carrier. Just a little longer, come on.

  “We’ve gotten a confirmation of signal receipt,” his last remaining crewman called out.

  Tam glanced back at the young Lodran. What was his name? “Great work Ciliad. You were a fine addition to our crew.”

  The young Lodran nodded. “It was an honor, sir.”

  Tam turned back to his display, ignoring the pain in his chest and the damage display. He found it ironic that it was the one working display on his console beyond his HUD. He couldn’t help but look over at the co-pilot’s seat. Empty space met him, a glancing blow from a beam cannon had torn away half the cockpit along with Tolgen. The breach beyond didn’t reveal empty space, but a dozen Gorvian fighters closing on them.

  Bright flashes preceded plaser rounds ripping through what remained of his ship. Tam released his controls and had just enough time to tie one final knot in his seaweed prayer rope for himself before the end.

  UCSB Date: 1003.107

  Hangar Bay, UCSBS Mercy, Nimbus System

  The screech of grinders, the wail of power drivers, and curses from the technicians formed a sort of surreal symphony as Blazer made his way through the hangar. All around him, the dark exoskeletoned Shinekian crew toiled over the Monstero Nach’s damaged fighters. Clinging to one of the rib-like support trusses crisscrossing the null gravity open bay, he took stock of the damage. We weren’t even in-system two hects before the Gorvians pushed us out, and there’s still no word on the recon teams.

  Blazer pushed off towards his own fighter, where his crew chief awaited. The Shinekian grabbed hold of Blazer as he approached and pulled him in to land on the left wing. “How bad is it Chief Talek?”

  The Shinekian shook his long head, the spiked ridge along the top his skull seeming to sag despite the lack of gravity. “I’ve seen a lot worse. But we’ve hard to strip all of our spare birds to get all your ships up and running.”

  Blazer looked back at the three spare fighters left behind by Mercy’s last squadron. Little remained in their docking claws beyond bare engine frames. Blazer shook his head and looked back at the damage to his fighter. The left reverse thrust housing didn’t match the rest of his craft anymore and patches covered the nose and underside of his cockpit. “How close did we come to biting it?”

  The chief’s exoskeleton clattered in what Blazer recognized as the Shinekian equivalent of a snort. The silicon-based race didn’t have dedicated lungs, instead absorbing oxygen through tiny pores in their exposed bones. “You came damn close. Two centimetra over and that blast,” he indicated with his long tail, the stinger at its tip absent. “That blast would have blown the forward separation motor of the cockpit pod.” The Chief pulled back his tail and looked at the doors beneath the fighter. “Last I heard we didn’t pick up any pods on the way out. The Gorvians didn’t give us time.”

  Blazer nodded, having heard the same rumor.

  “I’ve served the Confederation for over twenty annura and never seen a battle go so badly before.”

  That caught Blazer by surprise and he twisted about to look down at the shorter alien in disbelief. “Twenty annura, that can’t be right. That makes you at least…”

  “Twenty-seven, yes. I enlisted late, and I’m two annura past dead for my whole family line,” he said and pulled a tiny flower from his pocket, stroking it. “I’ve kept myself on low stress positions. Need to keep my heart rate low to extend my life. I never figured on this.”

  “How many generations of your line were crew chiefs?”

  “All the way back to the start of the war. Though I’m starting to forget some of the early cycles. There’s only so much room up here,” he replied, tapping his head. The Shinekian’s low level telepathic link allowed each generation the knowledge of those that had come before, but even their brains had a finite capacity.

  “How did the other squadron fare?” Blazer asked.

  “Lost four,” the chief replied. “I should have stayed a farmer, like my father. I can bring any plant back from the dead, but I can’t do the same for crews.”

  “There was nothing you could do about it. Those Gorvians were beyond anything.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “Blazer,” Marda called as she floated into the hangar.

  Blazer waved her over, and Marda pushed off from the wall towards them. Her auburn hair flowed behind her as she flew towards them, her emerald eyes a welcome sight. Blazer grabbed her hand as she sailed past and guided her in to land beside him. “I thought you w
ere in Med Bay Six all cycle.”

  “Taking a break,” she replied, the dark bags under her eyes evident. “We’re still getting wounded in from other ships, a lot of plasma burns and decompression injuries. How are things going here?”

  “We’re getting there, another three cycles and you’ll all be flying again,” the chief replied.

  “Thank you chief,” Marda replied and pulled out her handheld medical scanner. “The captain wanted me to check on you. If that’s all right?”

  The chief nodded, exposing his mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. “When the queen demands, we obey,” he said and several other Shinekians repeated him, even the larger females.

  Marda chuckled to herself. The captain was, in fact, a Shinekian queen. “She seems overly concerned for you. Are you two related?” Marda asked as she scanned him.

  “We grew up, joined up, and even had a brood together. She just fusses because she doesn’t want to lose me.”

  “I’ll do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen,” Marda replied as she reached the fourth segment of his body and scanned his tail.

  “Well tell her not to. If she wanted me to live much longer she shouldn’t have brought me to a war zone. She should have just left me to tend to my gardens.”

  “You’re all clear,” Marda proclaimed and tapped Blazer on the shoulder. “Can you spare a few pulses?”

  Blazer nodded and the pair leapt off towards the hatch. “What’s up?” Blazer asked as they drifted into the girders, the echo of the tools below almost drowning him out.

  “The Chief’s heart rate is way above his baseline. If he keeps this up…”

  “He’ll be dead in no time. I know.”

  Marda looked back, and frowned. “For all their fearsome appearance, the Shinekian are such a sad and beautiful race. They should never be in a war zone.”

  “No one should be,” Blazer added. “Will you be free later?”

  Marda nodded. “I’ll see you back in our quarters when I get off. Now go lend the chief a hand before his heart gives out.”