Cyborg Assault ds-4 Page 13

  “Answer my question!” the Praetor snarled, wanting to crawl across the floor and throttle Canus’s thick neck. He couldn’t move, however. Only the damage control party in their battleoid-suits could move under these tremendous Gs. Even they would find it difficult now.

  “Yes, Lord, we could manage.”

  More pressing Gs hit the ship and those within it. As he lay on the acceleration couch, the Praetor’s lips peeled back to reveal his big teeth, white teeth meant for rending meat. Every ten minutes, the engines pulsed with greater power, decelerating at higher levels for one point five minutes. It slammed them to the limit of Highborn endurance. One by one, they passed out until the engine lessened its terrible output and the gross Gs throttled down to horrible pain levels. The Highborn, being resilient, regained consciousness quickly. It was three minutes until the next big thrust pulse.

  The Thutmosis III shook worse than before. There were grim sounds throughout the ship, metallic groans, creaks, rattles, mini-explosions and the continuing high whine that nearly made thinking impossible.

  “Weapons, where’s that laser?” the Praetor roared.

  “Lord, we’re ready.”

  “Put it on visual,” the Praetor said.

  A holographic image appeared before him. It showed a port opening on the side of the Thutmosis III. It wasn’t a Zhukov-class primary laser. Highborn Command had modified a captured Social Unity missile-ship, turning it into a gigantic stealth vessel. The modified ship had relied on missiles, carrying many detachable pods. Those missiles had all been fired during the Third Battle for Mars. Highborn Command had added several medium-range lasers for defensive use. Only one of those lasers had survived the hunter-killers from Phobos.

  A focusing mirror poked out of the port. The front section was red with power.

  “Target acquired and locked-on,” Canus said.

  “Should we give them one more chance for friendly discourse?” another Highborn asked.

  “Kill them!” the Praetor shouted. “They had their chance.”

  From the holographic image there lanced a bright beam, streaking out into the void of space.

  * * *

  The range between the two warships was short in stellar distances, nearly sixty thousand kilometers and closing fast.

  Light traveled at approximately 300,000 kilometers per second. The time lag between firing the laser, its journey across space and to the target was almost negligible in space combat terms. Normally, the Rousseau would have possessed motive power. Today it lacked that, but drifted instead. That made it a stationary target. That meant the Highborn calibrating system could snipe at the dreadnaught with comparative ease.

  The dreadnaught did have particle shielding. And the laser’s wattage was mid-level and it would take time to chew through the asteroid rock.

  As the laser stabbed through the darkness, the dreadnaught lowered particle shielding just a fraction. Through that slit opening, its point-defense cannons began spewing depleted uranium pellets. Those pellets would take time to reach the Thutmosis III. And the enemy’s position could change by the time the pellets reached the projected impact point.

  Gharlane had ordered CR37 to lay the pellets in a large, predictive pattern. In effect, CR37 shot the pellets as mines, putting them in the enemy ship’s projected path. Instead of using nuclear detonation, CR37 would rely on kinetic force. He would use the ship’s velocity against it, and that it lacked particle shielding. It would take time to hurt the enemy vessel, but the cumulative effect might be enough to destroy it.

  A klaxon began to wail. The unmodified human turned to him, with horror twisting her pale features. “A laser—” she whispered, before she choked up.

  CR37 clicked a toggle. A tri-screen activated. From a hull camera, he saw the enemy laser. It chewed into particle shielding at the edge of a point-defense cannon.

  “Raise the shield,” the woman whispered. “Or the laser might breach the hull. Maybe it will slice into our chamber.” She wilted as he stared at her.

  CR37 turned back to the tri-screen. Gharlane had given the order. They must lay down the pellets, even at the cost of further ship-destruction.

  -20-

  On Athena Station, Gharlane stood in the former Guardian Fleet Command Center. It contained the latest in liquid computers and AI-enhancers. Cyborgs worked the modules. On the walls were various screens. One showed an interferometer enlargement of the beaming Highborn vessel. Another showed the Descartes. Another showed the Zenos burning for the Rousseau. The crippled warship was taking hits from the Highborn laser.

  Audio bursts had increased throughout the system. Callisto Orbital Defense demanded clarification. Guardian Fleet warships still under Jovian control also wanted assessment of the situation.

  It was clear to Gharlane that with the Highborn’s declaration and attack, phase one of the cyborg stealth campaign was effectively over. It was time for open strikes. The first should occur against Callisto.

  A ping in Gharlane’s mind alerted him to the Web-Mind’s radio linkage. He stood straighter and moved his head minutely to the left.

  “Gharlane here,” he said.

  I have assessed the probabilities, the Web-Mind said. With eighty-seven percent certainty, the current attack means that the Highborn are allied with the Jovians.

  “I am not convinced of that. The Praetor’s messages indicate troubling rogue factors.”

  The messages were coded sequences.

  “Do you say that because of the immediate ignition of the two Zenos?” Gharlane asked.

  Highborn and Jovians are attacking in concert. The conclusion is obvious. They have a working alliance.

  “If that is true, it is time for open strikes.”

  First, it is time to implement the subversion campaign.

  Gharlane shifted his stance as he observed the number seven screen. The Highborn laser stabbed through space. It hit the Rousseau with uncanny accuracy.

  “The random factors are too high to implement the subversion campaign,” Gharlane said. “It could produce unknown backlashes.”

  The Highborn have joined the battle for the Jupiter System. They have achieved a surprise attack. To maintain over eighty percent chance of system victory, we must immediately implement the subversion campaign.

  Gharlane had uncovered the Secessionist Plot through captured officers of Ganymede and Europan origin. The Secessionists awaited the opportunity for a system-wide rebellion against Callisto and the Guardian Fleet. Through mind-analyzers, truth serums and pain inducements, he had also discovered the code words that would initiate warship takeovers and planetary coups by the Secessionists.

  The Secessionists will divide the Jovians and sow discord at this critical juncture.

  “It will also alert Callisto Orbital Defense and all remaining Guardian Fleet warships.”

  There is a high probability that the two factions will begin interspecies infighting.

  “Other than this single vessel, there is no evidence of further Highborn presence.”

  This vessel surprised us. Therefore, the probability is high that the genetic soldiers have other stealth vessels in the region. We must strike hard now before the Jovians and Highborn can coordinate their respective ships. Also, the appearance of the vessel at this point indicates that our stealth assault has been compromised.

  “Shouldn’t we wait until—”

  Begin an immediate implementation of the subversion campaign. Then increase the attack velocity of the two nearest meteor-ships against the Descartes.

  Although Gharlane had grave reservations, he said, “I have received.”

  The Web-Mind broke the radio-linkage and Gharlane gave the needed orders. Half the cyborgs in the Command Center switched tasks. They began to broadcast the latest Secessionist code sequences to different warships and to Ganymede, Europa, Io and other moons.

  Gharlane strode to screen eleven. It was split in two, showing camera shots from two cyborg-controlled meteor-ships. Each focu
sed on the other. They were the Kepler and the Hobbes, identical in size and function to the Descartes. Each now began to accelerate, increasing their velocity.

  * * *

  Marten joined a badly shaken Yakov at the Primary Gunner’s module. Rhea was hunched over the controls, her slender fingers adjusting critical passive sensor arrays.

  “They’re meteor-ships,” she said.

  Marten wondered how she knew. On her screen, they were dots drowned by a sea of stars.

  Rhea pressed a button. On the screen, the view shifted slightly. Brighter dots moved away from the first two. Rhea leaned closer to her various monitors.

  “The ships have launched Zenos,” she said.

  “Their projected trajectory?” whispered Yakov.

  Rhea twisted around to face him, causing her breasts to strain against her black uniform. “They’re targeting us, Force-Leader. They think we’re Secessionists.”

  “Maybe they’re cyborg-controlled vessels,” Marten said.

  Rhea refused to look at him or respond to his words.

  “Or they’re Jovians allied with the cyborgs,” Marten told Yakov.

  Now Rhea gave him a cold glance. “No Jovian would make an alliance with a cyborg.”

  Stung, Marten asked, “Are you referring to Osadar?”

  “You must self-destruct our Zenos,” Rhea told Yakov. “You must show the Confederation that we are still loyal guardians.”

  “Make a run for Ganymede,” Marten suggested.

  Several minutes ago, turmoil had struck as a message from Athena Station arrived. It had shocked Yakov, who had informed Marten it was the Secessionist code. From incoming radio messages, it was clear that several warships with crewmembers from Ganymede, Europa and Io had received similar instructions.

  Yakov studied Rhea’s screen. “The two meteor-ships have fired Zenos at us. The Secessionist broadcast came from Athena Station. None of this makes sense.”

  “Yes it does,” Rhea said. “Arbiters broke the Secessionist plot. They have now broadcast the go message to see which crews are loyal to the Confederation. Since Athena Station believes we’re in rebellion, they have ordered our destruction.”

  “That’s madness,” Yakov said. “They wouldn’t order our ship’s destruction, but arrest us later in port.”

  “Forget about that,” Marten said. “You must run for Ganymede as you alert everyone about the cyborgs.”

  Yakov was shaking his head. “Are those two ships Guardian Fleet vessels or do they contain cyborgs like the Rousseau?”

  “Once they launch drones at you,” Marten said, “what difference does it make?”

  “You speak from barbarian emotionalism,” Rhea murmured.

  Yakov scowled. “Do you realize what the broadcast means? Secessionist crewmembers are likely even now slaughtering arbiters and ship-controllers as they take over several warships. The philosophers of Callisto will never forgive us for that.”

  “Launch Zenos at the two meteor-ships and run for Ganymede,” Marten said. “Anything else is suicide.”

  “Do not listen to the barbarian,” Rhea pleaded. “We must make peace. We must surrender.”

  Yakov rubbed bloodshot eyes before he floated to his command chair. From there, he began to issue orders.

  In moments, the Descartes rotated toward Jupiter and applied thrust. It headed into the gas giant’s gravity-well. It used the planet’s pull to help build velocity. Ganymede was on the other side of Jupiter, making it many days away from their present location.

  * * *

  On the Rousseau’s emergency bridge, CR37 continued his attempts to foil the enemy.

  The Highborn laser fired with uncanny accuracy, at times burning exposed point-defense cannons. Sometimes, it melted through the hull behind the cannons.

  “Rotate the ship three degrees,” CR37 said.

  The laser from the hard-braking Highborn ship chewed into asteroid rock as the dreadnaught rotated just enough to throw off their aim. The laser melted rock then, creating gas, liquid and slagging off boulder pieces. It other words, the laser proved ineffective against too much mass and density, that of simple interstellar rock.

  “Enemy Zenos have achieved lock-on,” the unmodified woman whispered. Her hands trembled as tears ran down her soft cheeks. Some of the tears floated around her face.

  CR37’s fingers blurred across his controls. He attempted electronic countermeasures, spewed chaff and prismatic crystals. He used everything to try to deflect the huge drones from his warship. Lastly, he turned his ship, aligning the final point-defense cannons with the Zenos’ approach path.

  * * *

  The two Zenos increased speed as their chemical fuel burned fast.

  Then one of the Rousseau’s depleted uranium pellets struck the first drone’s hull. It almost caused the drone to veer off-target, but internal guidance redirected it at the nearing dreadnaught.

  Then another pellet struck.

  Internal computing calculated the odds of hitting the target. The odds had dropped below the required number. The Zeno’s primary function ceased and the secondary level attack commenced.

  Rods sprouted into position, each aimed at vulnerable points on the dreadnaught. The Zeno warhead exploded with thermonuclear devastation. As the explosion obliterated the drone, x-rays and gamma rays used the aimed rods, traveling along them. Before the explosion destroyed the rods, they had concentrated the deadly radiation against the dreadnaught. That radiation stabbed like a spear instead of simply expanding and dissipating in a nuclear fireball.

  Those x-rays and gamma rays hit the Rousseau with ugly power. The unmodified woman sitting beside CR37 died instantly. The cyborg’s brainpan lacked enough shielding to protect him, and he died several seconds later. The x-rays also melted several critical fuses. At that point, all but one point-defense cannon fell silent. That cannon now lacked proper targeting data.

  The second Zeno zoomed at the Rousseau. It closed to five hundred kilometers, four hundred, three hundred, two, one hundred kilometers and then sped into the ship. The thermonuclear device ignited with obliterating power.

  While particle shielding protected much, it failed to protect enough. Every living thing in and around the Rousseau died. And vast quantities of mass hurtled outward from the terrific explosion.

  -21-

  The Descartes accelerated down the mighty gravity-well of Jupiter.

  Gravity-well was a term, useful in any system with a planetary body. The Sun, Earth and Jupiter each had a gravity-well. The Galilean moons of Io, Europa, Ganymede and Callisto also had gravity-wells. Jupiter had the biggest gravity-well after the Sun. The meaning was simple. Jupiter pulled things toward it because of its massive size, because of the gravitational attractive force it had on other masses such as people, ships, moons and passing comets. To escape Jupiter, to leave it, one needed a certain velocity—the escape velocity. If a ship failed to reach the escape velocity, it would orbit Jupiter, unable to leave.

  In this instance, Jupiter was at the bottom of the well. To fire a rocket out of the well took more power than it would to shoot a rocket down toward Jupiter.

  This was simple, gravitational mechanics, and it had consequences in space combat. The common misconception was that space lacked terrain other than planets and asteroids, comets and moons. But that was false. There was gravity, among other factors such as radiation, solar wind, the ecliptic of the planets and such. A ship high in the gravity-well had high ground just as an archer on a hill shooting down had an advantage over an archer shooting up the hill.

  In the Jupiter System, this was even more the case than in the Mars System.

  This was one of the reasons why Athena Station had been chosen as the Guardian Fleet Headquarters. It had the high ground in comparison to the four Galilean moons, which were closer to Jupiter and thus deeper in the well.

  Marten sat in his module, enduring the acceleration and observing the others. He would trade places with Omi soon and get some sleep.


  “Yes,” Yakov said. He watched the main screen and witnessed the Rousseau’s death.

  “You really did it,” Rhea said, her eyes wide with shock. “You destroyed a Guardian Fleet warship.”

  Marten switched to the same visual. It was a long teleoptic shot of the obliterated Rousseau, visible now because it no longer hid behind a gel-cloud.

  “You must engage your logic,” Yakov told Rhea. “Athena Station broadcast the Secessionist code. No one there would do that if he or she were Guardian Fleet personnel. Either Secessionists gained control of Athena Station or cyborgs did. It is more logical to believe that cyborgs captured the station than Secessionists.”

  “No,” said Rhea, “that is illogical. Why would cyborgs broadcast the code?”

  “Obviously,” said Yakov, “to create disunity among us.”

  Rhea gripped her choker. “None of that matters anymore. The tracking Zenos will destroy our ship. We must take to the lifeboats and escape with our lives.”

  Marten chewed the inside of his check. The Descartes used the technique of sledding down the gravity-well to build up velocity. Unfortunately, the following ships also went down into the gravity-well after them.

  Marten studied his screen. The enemy ships were red dots. The Descartes was a yellow dot. The green dots were the speeding Zenos.

  Marten spoke to Yakov. “There may be a way to discover if the ships chasing us are cyborgs or Guardian Fleet vessels.”

  “I’m listening,” Yakov said. He sounded weary and looked older.

  “Radio Callisto Orbital Defense,” Marten said. “Tell them everything you know. Then ask them if they ordered those ships to attack us. If they didn’t, they’re cyborgs.”

  Yakov pondered the idea, soon nodding. Then he ordered the com-officer to open a channel with Callisto Orbital Defense.

  * * *

  Aboard the hard-decelerating Thutmosis III, thick-necked Canus broke the Guardian Fleet’s ship-to-ship code. He was thus able to intercept Yakov’s message to Callisto.