Star Viking (Extinction Wars Book 3) (28 page)

The bay door began to slide open. Stars appeared. Then I saw the underbelly of a big Lokhar battle cruiser. It, too, had an open bay door. Fighters launched down from it.

That was our one stroke of luck. It might be all we needed.

“Hang on just a moment longer,” Zoe said. “I’m taking us closer.”

She maneuvered the patrol boat. A Lokhar fighter barely missed us as it flashed past. The wash must have hit our cloaking field in same manner. An electrical discharge flared between the two vessels. Ours was a toy compared to the battle cruiser.

“Someone spotted us,” Zoe said. “Go!”

I let go of the crash bar. With my magnetic boots, I ran along the deck plates. When I reached the open bay door, I cut their power and jumped. At the same moment, I turned on the thruster pack. At maximum acceleration, I rushed the battle cruiser’s fighter launch bay.

Behind me, other Star Vikings did likewise. It was a race, all right. We were going to board and storm the vessel and try to take it over as our own.

I expelled hydrogen spray, a white misty trail behind me as I strained to reach the open bay door. If I failed, humanity would never make a comeback. My teeth ground together as rage consumed me. I envisioned the Emperor himself aboard the craft. My head began to beat in time to my heart. A hazy red nimbus surrounded my vision.

A cool, detached part of my mind, a little citadel buried deeply in my brain, watched as berserker-gang overcame me. Maybe the suit pumped the drugs. Maybe I did it on my own. For once, I couldn’t tell the difference.

Raving, I closed the distance and the bay doors began sliding shut. I came like a cannonball, readying my Bahnkouv. Ten shots to win a species—mine—another extended bout at life.

I flashed past a giant door and pulled the trigger. Eighty meters away, a clear surface shattered so shards glittered in the hangar bay. A Lokhar officer backed away from his controls. I shot again, and he exploded in fur, blood and bone.

Speeding fast, I twisted my torso, readied myself and struck a bulkhead. Cannonballing off it, pushing with my legs to guide my direction, I shot at the wrecked control chamber. I swiveled my torso once more and blasted a roar of hydrogen spray from the thrusters. I had to slow down.

More armored Star Vikings flew into the hangar bay. Their laser bolts took down floating tigers and others running away with magnetic boots clanking along the deck plates.

Swiveling around again, I pulled the trigger three times. The shots blasted within the chamber. The closing bay doors halted, frozen with ten meters of space between them.

Then, I hit a gory wall within the control chamber, bounced and floated out.

A big hatch deeper in the hangar bay opened and power-armored Lokhars poked their rifles through.

I emptied my Bahnkouv at them, dropping three tiger legionaries. Before they murdered me, I landed behind steel cylinders, activating my boots. My head still beat with a savage pulse. Instead of sonic grenades, I had proton hand-bombs. Pressing a thumb on the igniter, I hurled one so it sped like a bullet. Two tigers shot at me. One missed. The other hit symbiotic skin, making my suit quiver with pain.

The berserker-gang evaporated from my brain, making me realize the suit had been giving me the madness.

At the big hatch leading into the interior of the battle cruiser, a proton explosion took out the legionaries.

“Follow me,” I radioed. In leaping bounds, I moved to the wrecked portal into the ship. Grabbing a Lokhar rifle, slipping on a power pack, I charged down the corridor. It had gravity so I moved like a freight train on meth.

Star Vikings rushed behind me.

We had surprise and murdered every tiger we saw. More power-armored legionaries appeared. We killed them, losing ten troopers to their weapons.

Dmitri split off, leading a team for the bridge. Rollo likewise went another way as he fought to reach the T-missiles. I battled my way to the engine room.

Instead of playing a skilled game of maneuver and countermove, I lobbed proton bombs and rushed to close quarters. There I stabbed with my force blade. If I’d tried for perfect tactics, I’m afraid we would have traded shots from around corners. That would have slowed everything down. Time counted more than ensuring we didn’t take casualties.

It meant the headlong attack cost human lives. We traded them for time. Then, the Lokhars must have run out of power-armored legionaries, at least the ones facing all died.

Our last gamble turned into tiger butchery. Twenty-two Star Vikings, along with me, burst into a huge chamber. It contained silver-colored, throbbing fusion cells. I shot sprinting Lokhar engineers trying to get away. Then, I blew away the heads of three tigers madly tapping at controls. I assumed they attempted to build a fusion overload.

Star Vikings rushed to those panels. Three minutes later, my techs turned to me and popped up their thumbs. They had the engines under control.

In my helmet, I flipped onto a different channel. “Dmitri?” I asked.

“We have control of the bridge, Commander. But I have bad news. The other battle cruisers are turning to engage us.”

“Are the ship’s shields at full power?” I asked.

“Yes, Commander,” Dmitri said.

“Is the
Achilles
in the main hold?”

“Yes, Commander,” the Cossack said.

“Then hang on. I’m coming up to you.”

“We cannot defeat the enemy fighters and the battle cruisers about to engage us,” he said.

“You don’t think so?” I asked.

“No, Commander,” Dmitri said.

Once more, I switched onto a different channel. “Rollo, are you ready?”

“Give me ten more minutes, Creed,” Rollo said.

“You have five. Then it’s go time.”

“That’s cutting it too close,” Rollo said. “It’s not going to work if you don’t prepare properly. Five minutes isn’t enough time to rig everything perfectly.”

Through the comm-line, I brayed with laughter. “No battle is perfect, my friend. It’s all about winning. Nothing else matters.”

“You think we can win through to the jump gate and beyond?” Rollo asked, sounding dubious.

“We’re about to find out,” I said. “Now quit jabbering and get those T-missiles ready for launch.”

I stood on the bridge of our captured battle cruiser. It was a big ship, an engine of destruction, although unequal against a Jelk battlejumper. This vessel must have been a fifth the size of Shah Claath’s former flagship, which gives some indication of a battlejumper’s power.

Ten Star Vikings stood on the bridge with me, Dmitri among them.

The rest of the boarders had returned to the
Achilles
. The patrol boat waited in another cargo bay, the armored doors sealed shut.

I still breathed hard from the tremendous exertion.

“Commander,” Dmitri said. “The enemy wants to bargain with you.”

“Put him on the side screen,” I said.

“Her, Commander, the Lokhar admiral is a female.”

“Whatever,” I said. My helmet sat on the former battle cruiser captain’s chair. He lay sprawled on the deck plates, half his head a gory ruin.

A tiger appeared on the screen. She must have sprinkled ash over her fur, because it was dull gray color. Her red eyes squinted at me.

I used a technique on her that Shah Claath had played on us during our attack on the portal planet. With Dmitri at the comm-controls, I had him transmit a fuzzy image of me and deepen my voice.

During the portal planet attack, the Jelk had pretended to be Abaddon. It had scared the crap out of us at the time. Maybe I could pull something like that here.

“I am Admiral List Mocker,” the tiger woman said. “Who are you?”

“Abaddon,” I said.

The Lokhar recoiled, her eyes widening. “You lie,” she whispered.

I forced a laugh. “Why do you think I struck the Purple Tamika Hall of Honor?”

“I have no idea. It was barbaric and sacrilegious.”

“First, I will stamp out your honor,” I said, trying to sound like the devil himself. “Then I will demand your lives in payment for your crimes.”

“What crimes?” the admiral shouted.

“That of living in the same space-time continuum as me and my Kargs,” I said.

She became visibly emotional, breathing hard as she wrestled with her superstitious fears. Finally, she pointed a clawed finger at me. “Whoever you are, I demand you return our sacred articles of honor. If you do, we will let you depart with your life. If not, you will die.”

“You are wrong,” I said. “It is you who are about to die.”

“You have one crippled battle cruiser. We have a flotilla of star fighters and four battle cruisers with fifteen more on the way.”

“Prepare to die,” I said, and I nodded to Dmitri.

The Cossack cut the connection. “Did she buy it?” he asked.

I had no time to answer him. Instead, I told our pilot, “Full speed for the jump gate.” Then, I radioed Rollo in the T-missile quarters, “Send the first one,” I said.

“I’m as likely to ignite it in here,” he said over the helmet radio, “then get it out there.”

“Then do it right,” I said.

“Like I have a choice in the matter,” Rollo said. “You’ll get what I can get.”

I would have preferred more confidence from him. This was stressful enough. I stared at the screen, watching, waiting. Star fighters raced at us, about two hundred space vessels readying their particle beam cannons. A battle cruiser stood in our way, heating its considerable number of heavy weapons. The other battle cruisers came up fast from behind.

“They’re waiting for our move,” Dmitri said. “They don’t want to destroy us because they still think they can get their precious items back.”

I blinked hard. Why was waiting such a difficult thing to do? My plan was simple. A T-missile was a teleporting missile. It was an ingenious weapon. Special tubes launched them. I didn’t have time for that. Nor did I have time to make precise calculations for each missile. N7 would have been needed. He was on the patrol boat. Instead, Rollo would cause one missile at a time to teleport outside our battle cruiser.

From within my helmet on the headphones, I heard Rollo shout, “Fire one!”

Inside our battle cruiser, nothing extra happened. Outside, it was a different story. A T-missile appeared behind the approaching star fighters. That meant the missile was close to us, too. Its thermonuclear warhead ignited, creating a blinding white flash.

“Fire two!” Rollo shouted.

As the small attack fighters vaporized in the atomic blast, a second T-missile appeared. This one ignited between two approaching battle cruisers and us.

From this close, our ship took the blast and hard radiation. Our screens buckled.

“Keep them popping,” I shouted at Rollo. “Saturate the battlefield with nuclear fire.”

“Roger that, Creed,” Rollo said in a hoarse voice.

This was like lobbing grenades a few yards from oneself and hoping the body armor held. It decimated the star fighters and hammered the enemy battle cruisers. Unfortunately, we started taking a pounding from our own weapons as we headed for the jump gate.

***

In slow motion, like a dying destruction derby car near the end of its existence, our battle cruiser glided past the wreckage of hundreds of star fighters. The nearest Lokhar battle cruiser slammed point defense shells into our ruptured hull. The force screen had died several minutes ago. From behind us, enemy particle beams shredded our ship.

Then another T-missile popped into existence beside a Lokhar battle cruiser. Because of the thermonuclear blast, I lost sight of the enemy. The particle beams stopped, though. Seconds later, our bridge shuddered. More of the ceiling crashed down onto the deck plates. Electrical wiring writhed like angry snakes, hissing and showering sparks. Lights flashed and klaxons wailed.

“Get to the patrol boat,” I ordered.

“You’ll need help up here, sir.”

“No! I’m coming with you. Just give me a few more seconds.”

“Creed!” Dmitri shouted. “You cannot stay.”

“Go,” I said. “Hurry.”

Dmitri stubbornly shook his helmeted head.

“Look—”

Another thermonuclear explosion shook our vessel. Everything went dark except for a side, viewing screen.

“I only have two T-missiles left,” Rollo radioed me through harsh static.

“Save them for the other side,” I said.

“Don’t you think I know that?” he bellowed.

Dmitri and I watched the screen. Our battered vessel slid past the last star fighter. The enemy battle cruiser no longer peppered us with its point defense cannons. Behind us by several thousand kilometers, another battle cruiser slid into view. Its particle beams stuck our battered vessel.

Sloughing off like ice from an iceberg, more of our craft fell away. Internal explosions made it hard to stay standing on the buckling deck.

At that point, our battle cruiser reached the jump gate, sliding through toward the other side.

***

Groaning, I pushed myself off the deck plates where I’d fallen. This jump had been particularly bad.

I floated up toward the ruined ceiling. The anti-gravity plates had stopped working.

The flu-like symptoms of jump left me achy and dull-witted.

“Dmitri?” I asked in a hoarse voice.

“There has to be better way for star traveling,” the Cossack said, his voice weak.

“Tell me about it. How are the rest of you feeling?”

“We’re ready, Commander,” one of the other troopers said.

“Rollo?” I radioed.

He coughed before saying, “I’m all set.”

Pushing against the ceiling, I floated down to the only working screen. It showed the jump gate behind our vessel. So far, no one else had followed us through.

“Now,” I told Rollo.

Seconds passed and turned into a full minute. I hated this damn waiting. What was wrong? Why couldn’t Rollo—

Just then, a T-missile appeared by the jump gate. Its fusion engine burned. These missiles could move in the normal manner as well. A blue tail appeared behind the exhaust port. It grew longer by the second, accelerating the missile.

Our gift to the Lokhars went through the jump gate back to the Horus star system. Would the timer function? Would the warhead explode, smashing nearing enemy craft at just the right time?

“Go,” I told Dmitri and the others. “We have to get back to the patrol boat.”

Before they could argue with me, I leaped for the corridor. The hatch onto the bridge had blown open some time ago. With my HUD giving me visibility of the dark hall, I propelled myself off the sides. I “swam” faster and faster, taking the corners at a dangerous speed. Behind me, the others did likewise. We were old hands at these kinds of zero-G maneuvers.

In less than five minutes, we vomited out of the last hatch, shooting for the patrol boat sitting in the big bay.

From a different hatch, Rollo flew for the boat, meeting us at the
Achilles
. We scrambled inside. My last glimpse of the inner battle cruiser was the bay doors lurching open.

Thank God, they still worked after the pounding this vessel had taken.

Before I reached the bridge, Zoe Artemis guided the
Achilles
out of the battle cruiser’s belly. She built up speed, moving away from it.

I entered the bridge, still wearing my symbiotic skin.

“Turn on the cloak,” Zoe said.

A member of her crew did just that, tapping her board. That caused a high-pitched whining sound throughout the patrol boat.

“Captain Artemis,” a man said, pointing at me.

Zoe swiveled around and grinned hugely. I wanted to hug and kiss her.

“Commander, you made it,” she said.

“Captain,” the sensor operator said. “Lokhar fighters have just come through the jump gate.”

“Put it on the main screen,” Zoe said.

I steadied myself, holding onto the back of her chair.

“I don’t know if the cloak will hold,” she whispered to me. “The star fighter earlier damaged our field generator.”

I didn’t say a word. I watched the screen, wanting to know what the Lokhars were going to do. As I did, a big battle cruiser appeared in our star system. That was bad.

“The admiral is hailing our old battle cruiser,” the comm operator said.

“Let her do it as much as she wants,” Zoe said.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen. Would the tigers fire at the empty vessel? I didn’t think they would. They didn’t dare.

Several minutes passed. My gut tightened all the time. Another Lokhar warship entered the system.

Shuttles left the first tiger battle cruiser. Those looked undamaged. Six of the assault shuttles gathered under the wrecked and empty battle cruiser. Once ready, they moved in a flock toward the battered hulk. One by one, the shuttles entered the ship.

At that point, Rollo’s last T-missile ignited inside the vessel. Even on the screen, I could see it shudder. A microsecond later, it expanded like a slow-motion grenade. The sides blew off and a white explosion grew. Coils, fusion engines, hull parts, dead tigers and humans, water, concentrates, mass of junk blew apart in an expanding ball of destruction.

“Let’s hope that blinds their sensors for a time,” I said.

Our bridge crew turned to stare at me. I guess my words sounded inappropriate. I couldn’t help it.

Anyway, long story short, we made it by playing the same trick twice against the Lokhars. Hey, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right?

As the surviving Lokhars began to search the debris, we tiptoed away in the cloaked
Achilles
.

The good news was that this system had several jump gates to choose from. We slid toward the nearest. If we could get some real separation from the Lokhars, we wouldn’t have to worry about our damaged cloaking device lasting any longer.

“Captain,” the comm operator said. “The Lokhar admiral is placing a system wide message. Should I put it up?”

Zoe turned to me. I nodded.

In a moment, the tiger with the ash fur appeared. She seemed tired beyond anything I’d seen.

“You are not Abaddon,” she said. “I know that for a fact. Never fear, we will learn who you are. We will find you. Then we will destroy your race limb from limb. I don’t know how you did this or why, but you will never gain from your vile deed.”

The cloaking whine increased within the patrol boat.

Zoe looked worried. “Our invisibility isn’t going to hold much longer,” she whispered to me.

“Race for the nearest jump gate,” I told her.

“They might see us if we accelerate too fast.”

“If we want to win, we’re going to have to risk it.”

Reluctantly, Zoe gave the order. The
Achilles
built up velocity. That made the cloaking device labor overtime. It sounded worse than before.

On the bridge, we watched the main screen and listened to the sensor operator give a minute-by-minute report.

“I think you’re right,” Zoe told me. “The last T-missile hurt the enemy’s sensing systems.”