Kella’s calves were aching by time she reached the fantail of the Praetorian. The walk had taken longer than she had expected, and the constant effort required to dislodge the boots had drained most of her energy. She still had plenty of air left, but she felt like she’d just run a marathon.
“Ok,” she reported in, panting. “I’m here at the base of the tail fins.”
“Roger that,” Gavin replied in acknowledgement. “I have a good signal on you.”
“Ok, I’m starting my search.” Kella thought about walking up the large fin that towered above her, but thought better of it. Her stomach wasn’t in any mood for a change in orientation. She tapped the d-com embedded in the cuff of her enviro-suit and pulled up the helmet’s scanner display. She swept her arm out before her, and watched the results flash across her display. So far, nothing. Still, she didn’t expect to find it right off. She paced along the base of the tail, sweeping her arm up and down the hull, all the while watching the results.
A flash of light out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she looked up. Light was being reflected off of an object far behind the Praetorian floating among the asteroids. Concerned, she tapped her d-com again, and the scanner display switched to an optical zoom, and she increased the magnification. In the little box glowing before her eye, the image of the Gladius came into focus, far out in the distance. As she watched, a large door opened along the lower hull, and three flashes of light erupted from the darkness of the ship. She knew what they were instantly.
“Gavin,” she called immediately.
“You find it?”
“No, we have a problem. Three bogeys just separated from the Gladius.”
“What?” Gavin said after a moment of silence. “I don’t see anything on the scanners.”
“They’re using RCS only. They’re running cold, Gavin. Sensors won’t read anything until they fire off their PDE’s, which they won’t need to. Remember your physics lessons.”
“Crap,” Gavin swore. “Alright, get your ass back inside. I don’t want you out there when the shooting starts.”
“No,” Kella argued. “I’m going to find the tracker.”
“Damn it, Sellsword,” Gavin shot back. “I am not willing to risk it. Get in.”
“Gavin,” she said hotly, “I will not. You worry about what you need to do, and let me find this thing. I’ll come in as quickly as I can after.”
“That’s not…” Gavin started, but Kella cut the line. Without saying anything further, she brought her back up and started scanning as quickly as the software would allow. It had to be somewhere close.
Gavin shouted in frustration from the cockpit, the little hovering remote shuddered furiously. Why the hell did she have to be like that? He was concerned for her safety, a relatively innocent bystander, but she had to keep throwing herself into danger. And for what? Why? Gavin didn’t have the answer to those questions, and it infuriated him to no end.
He turned his anger onto the scanner, and swapped through the various modes without really paying attention to what he was seeing. The enemy mecha didn’t show up, regardless. Gavin knew they were exploiting a scanner limitation. They were using cold-gas discharges to maneuver their mechs. Since they left the Gladius, they didn’t require much propulsion to catch up to the Praetorian and could simply glide over to them, completely undetected. When they got close enough, or if the Praetorian bolted, they’d power up and fire their PDEs, allowing them to easily overtake the much larger vessel. It was a smart move, and Gavin knew it meant they were running out of time.
Kella had been right of course and Gavin absolutely hated to admit it. If she didn’t find the bug and disabled it, they would not be able to escape from their pursuers, unless they resorted to all-out combat. Gavin rejected that plan as well – the Gladius was too evenly matched for the Praetorian to clash with and survive. At best, they would fight to a draw, both ships too damaged to continue, or both destroyed. Fighting wasn’t the answer, and unless Kella could disable the tracker, running was pointless.
“Damn,” Gavin shouted angrily.
“Commander,” Helmsman Abigail Richmond called from her forward seat. “Martian’s flight is on its way, and the Praetorian is still maintaining course and speed.”
“Excellent,” Deckert said, clasping his hands behind his back. “As soon as Martian plants the charges, have him detonate.”
“But, sir,” Dawson said from the communication’s chair, confused by the order. “The Captain is still on board; we can’t detonate without knowing if he’s safe.”
“Major Hughes for all we know is dead,” Deckert said emotionlessly. “That ship remains in enemy hands, and our orders are clear. As soon as the charges are planted, detonate. That is a direct order, Ensign Dawson. Now do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Dawson Richmond
“Kella,” Gavin called over the vox. “I don’t mean to be impatient, or belittle your efforts, but are you finished yet?”
“No,” Kella replied shortly.
Gavin watched her work with the external monitors. She was going as quickly as she could, and was pushing herself physically to do so. It was no easy feat moving around in space, and clamped down to the hull of a massive craft barreling through an asteroid field added a little flavor to the challenge.
He couldn’t detect the incoming Cavaliers, no matter what method he tried. They just blended in with the space around them. He had even tried to perform a heat-ratio composite, but still came up with nothing. There had just been vast empty blanks, and the enemy units could be hiding in any one of them, moving steadily closer. Gavin didn’t want to have to attack, but all the same, he released the safeties on the defensive systems and the tertiary power generators came online. Gavin watched as the power indicators filled steadily.
There was still a chance, albeit a small one, to turn the tables on his aggressors. As soon as the enemy units made their move, he would have a very brief moment with which to strike back. It was merely timing, and staying alert. If he missed it, the enemy units would be within his defensive range, and he’d be powerless. Then again, if Kella could locate the tracker, he might be able to change the tables with more certainty. He adjusted course to bring a large asteroid between the Praetorian and his pursuers. He’d need to stay out of line of sight as much as possible.
“I found it!” Kella cheered over the channel suddenly.
“Fantastic!” Gavin hooted back. “Where is it?”
“Lodged about six feet up from the base on the lower port tailfin. I think I can pry it loose.”
“Have at it, but don’t destroy it. Let me know when you get it free,” Gavin said, already putting the VI gestalt to work on the calculations. He adjusted course to their recommendations and the Gladius fell father back behind a cluster of large asteroids.
“I got it,” Kella came back, panting, after several minutes. “The bugger was in deep.”
“Ok, great,” Gavin said, trying to not get too excited. “When I tell you, I want you to toss the tracker at this asteroid coming up.”
“What?” Kella asked, confused. “What asteroid?”
“You’ll see it. Don’t worry,” Gavin said encouragingly. She couldn’t see it yet, but he most certainly could. Following the course from the VI gestalt, the Praetorian was travelling on an almost direct course for a massive asteroid only a couple hundred kilometers away. The plan was to reverse thrust and nose down just before impact, and then fire the boosters again. With the aide of the main thrusters, they should come within mere yards of the floating rock. The timing on the engine thrusts had to be damn near perfect or else they’d collide, and the trip would be over. Gavin didn’t see any reason to tell Kella any of this, as she was about to get a front row seat.
“Gavin,” she said, almost exactly on cue. “Gavin, you hear me right?”
“Yes, Sellsword,” he said calmly.
“You are watching where we’re headed, right?”
“Absolutely,” Gavin replied.
“So you meant that asteroid,” she said flatly, stating the obvious.
“Indeed,” Gavin said watching the data from the gestalt tick away. “Ok, you might want to brace yourself for a little jolt.”
“What? Wait, Gavin!” she exclaimed, suddenly realizing what he was intending and scrambled for purchase against the fin. No sooner did she grab hold of an access panel, did the engines reverse thrust. Kella slammed against the fin, but she refused to let go. Then the forward thrusters fired, and she was yanked back the other way. Her muscles screamed in protest. Finally, the forces dissipated and Gavin came back over the vox.
“You still there?”
“No thanks to you! You fekkin’ moron! I could have been thrown loose!” she screamed over the channel.
“Stop whining, you’re ok,” Gavin said casually, but Kella could hear the relief he was attempting to hide. “Alright, now the asteroid is only a few yards away. Chuck that thing!”
“Got it,” Kella said sourly as she pulled back and threw the tracker like she was skipping a stone over a pond. The spinning motion gave the tracker an almost straight trajectory and Kella watched it until it disappeared into the shadow of the rock. “I think we’re good,” she said.
“Fantastic, now get back inside. Quickly. We’re going to make a run for it. Use the aft emergency hatch, its closer,” Gavin said and Kella watched a series of lights begin to flash yards from her position.
“Why didn’t I use that in the first place?”
“You didn’t ask,” Gavin replied innocently.
“Right,” Kella sighed. She made her way to the hatch as quickly as she could and then hopped into the airlock. She slammed the red button on the inside wall and the outer hatch sealed behind her. Lights began flashing in the airlock, and after a few seconds she could begin to hear the hissing of air and the claxons blaring. She watched the pressurization process from the display in her helmet. When it hit 100%, the inner airlock door opened and Kella stepped out. She unsealed her helmet and called Gavin. “I’m in. Go for it.”
“Right,” Gavin said. “Hold on.”
Kella fell to the floor in a controlled motion and braced against the wall. She would rely on her enviro-suit to protect her from the imminent acceleration. She felt the main boosters ignite, and the heard the inertia dampers protest as they tried to keep up with the forces.
“Gladius, this is Martian. I’ve lost the Praetorian.”
“What?” Deckert said, coming to stand behind Dawson
“Repeat that last,” Dawson
“I’ve lost the fekkin’ plane!” Martian shouted back. Dawson
“They’ve discovered the tracker,” Deckert growled. He pulled up the vox channel on his own lapel and began tapping his d-com. “Fine. We’ll do this the hard way, then.” He pulled up the ship-wide channel and issued his orders. “To all operations, set condition red, battle stations. I repeat, set condition red, all hands to battle stations.”
Claxons began blaring across the ship, and the bridge lighting changed from the dull blue to a dismal red. Deckert and the other personnel on board the ship sealed their uniforms. They were wearing the Military’s standard issue naval utilities that combined a flexible ease-of-movement jumpsuit with a slim-line space suit. With a push of a button on a d-com, the suits would seal and pressurize and with the addition of a helmet become an enviro-suit that could sustain an individual in the vacuum of space for nearly two weeks. Just long enough to wait for rescue.
“Wing Commander Carter, do you hear me?” Deckert said, bypassing Dawson
“Sir,” Martian acknowledged.
“We’re moving to Phase Two. I repeat, move to Phase Two. Drop stealth and begin assault operations. Search and destroy.”
“Assault?” Abigail repeated from the helm while at the same time, Dawson
“Yes, we’re attacking,” Deckert spat coldly. “Mission protocol dictates that in such a situation, the Praetorian is to be destroyed. I don’t need to explain anything further to you men. Mind your stations. Carter, you have your orders.” Deckert returned to the center of the bridge and watched the large holoscreen that displayed the details of the situation and the respective positions of the ships.
“Roger that,” Martian said, finally acknowledging his orders. Deckert nodded to himself and watched as the three blips turned into triangles and spread out into a search pattern. “Enough of this game of cat and mouse.”
“Kella!” Gavin shouted over the speakers.
“What?” she shouted back as she stood back from the toilet. The EVA and the sudden unprotected acceleration had finally been too much for her stomach. Her body was bruised and battered, and she was more tired than she remembered ever being.
“They know we gave them the slip! I’m going to need your help on this.”
“What do you want me to do?” she asked evenly. There was time to rest when she was dead.
“I need you to get to the upper landing bay.”
“Why? Is there some secret weapon up there?” she asked trying not to broach the subject of her fallen Scythe.
“Just go,” Gavin said distractedly.
“Fine,” she said as she walked from the stall. She felt the ship lurch beneath her feet and she quickly reached out for the nearest wall. Gavin was flying some serious evasive maneuvers, and the inertia dampers were just unable to cope. “If I can make it there,” she complained under her breath.
She found the normally pleasant climb to the upper landing bay a difficult one. Especially along the stairwell as Gavin pulled a maneuver that canceled out the gravity system for a few seconds leaving Kella weightless and floating up the steps. When gravity returned, she just barely kept herself from falling down the stairs. Thankfully, the guard rail was heavy duty and supported her with ease.
Finally she made her way to the door leading to the upper landing bay. It was closed. “Gavin,” she called. “Let me in.”
“I,” Gavin started, still sounding distracted. “I hope this makes up for, well, you know,” he said as the door opened. Kella’s mouth dropped open as she saw what lay beyond. Standing secure in a gantry was her Scythe, completely repaired.
“Gavin,” she said, still not believing the mecha was reborn.
“I’ve been trying to fix it since it crashed. But it’s taken me a while. She’s ready to go. I made some improvements to it, I hope you don’t mind.”
“How did you…?” Kella asked as she walked into the bay, but the answer was soon obvious. Stacked along the walls was a small army of mechanical remotes. Gavin must have been controlling them, splitting his attention between everything. It had taken him since before Tal Rho’an to complete the repairs. Suddenly Kella had a new respect for the man trapped in the machine, and knew without a doubt that the mental discipline that allowed him to control over a hundred separate machines was what had allowed him to survive the assault of his imprisonment. Gavin was something special.
“I’ll tell you everything later,” Gavin said, as the deck bucked again. “But there are three really nasty Cavaliers bearing down on us. I think it’s time you showed your own skill.”
“You know,” Kella said smiling. “I think you’re right.”
“Alright, there they go!” Martian called to his wingmen, the arm of his Lancer mimicking his own movement in the armature and pointing in the direction of the Praetorian. He’d seen a glimpse of the fantail disappear around an asteroid. The plane had been hauling ass and pulling maneuvers he never would have expected a craft that size could make. It was almost unreal. But even so, he and his men were zeroing in on the craft, and soon they’d be in weapons’ range, leaving the plane with nowhere to run. It was only a matter of time.
“I got it, Leader,” Janet called from the second machine. She was the second in command of Martian’s squadron and a capable pilot. Janet and Martian had served together since before the Mativa Riots.
“Ok, don’t lose it now,” Martian called, coaxing his Lancer around a series of boulders the size of shuttlecraft. His squadron was flying the latest mass-production unit of the Military, and so far, the mecha had been impressive. It outmatched the old Cavaliers in every aspect. Martian even liked the color. He had yet to test one category, however, and he was itching to test the thing in battle.
Suddenly, as if his wishes were answered, an asteroid exploded mere yards from his cockpit. The shockwave rocked him around, but he quickly recovered. He quickly searched for the source of the explosion, but as he did so, a mecha bearing strange markings flashed by at breakneck speeds splitting right through the middle of the squadron’s formation.
“What the hell was that?” Janet called out, alarmed.
“That was big game,” Martian replied, smiling. His wishes had been answered and it was time to cut loose. Martian yanked his machine in a bone-crunching one-eighty and tore after the enemy mecha.
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