Behemoth: Rise Of Mankind Book 1 (19 page)

              And if the enemy didn’t transmit back before they were destroyed, Protocol Seven would work in at least another engagement, if not more. The multifront war might be placated. The Alliance would have the upper hand. The galaxy itself might very well be rid of the enemy completely.
This
moment made the future a brighter thing.

              Olly patched himself to the bridge of the Behemoth. “Captain Atwell, I’ve got some fantastic news.”

              “What is it, Olly?” Gray replied. “Do you have Protocol Seven?”

              “Yes, sir,” Olly confirmed. “I think it’s time to share it with the enemy if you’re so inclined. I suspect it’s the type of surprise party we’ve been waiting to throw.”

              “Just tell us what to do and we’ll bring the appetizers.”

              “It’s on its way. I’ll link up with Paul for the installation.” Olly switched over to begin work, unable to stop from smiling. It lacked all mirth, more of a satisfying grin of potential victory. If it worked as advertised, they’d be on their way home soon. If not…well…one way or another, this battle was about to end.

              Clea read through the Protocol Seven information Olly sent and shook her head.
To think, this race we never encountered discovered a method of observing the enemy so well, they came away with such a weapon
. Their end saddened her. Such industrious, clever people should not have been beaten to the brink of extinction.

             
At least their spirit will live on and we’ll certainly deliver their legacy to the enemy
.

              Clea’s people definitely needed this information. She felt a sense of urgency building in her chest, a desire to communicate with them immediately. Unfortunately, even if such a thing were possible, they still had to win the fight. If any commander could see them through, it would be Gray. She knew him to be clever but after witnessing him through this engagement, she recognized he more than deserved the respect she paid him.

              “Captain,” Paul spoke up. “The enemy ships are on the move. They’re closing in.”

              Everly scowled. “Maybe they think their little boarding party succeeded.”

              “Or maybe not,” Gray replied. “They might be moving in to finish the job. I don’t know if the invaders wanted to take care of the patient or cause havoc but they dramatically underestimated our people. They’re about to make the same mistake again. Power up the shields and get us ready. Let’s finish this once and for all.”

              “How soon before the Protocol Seven is ready?” Everly asked.

              “Olly’s got it installed on the Silver Star…er…Tam’Dral…whatever it’s called.” Paul paused. “We’re at seventy-five percent on our end.”

              Gray frowned. “What’s the delay?”

              “The universal code had to translate it first. The algorithm itself is simple but interfacing it with our systems…that takes time.”

              “We don’t have much,” Clea said. “Will it be ready before they’re within range?”

              “I…think so.”

              Gray rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Fantastic. Hurry, Paul. That’s not a request.”

              Clea moved over to Paul’s station and looked over his shoulder. She scowled at the figures moving across. “Here,” she pointed, “you can optimize this compiler. It’s lagging.”

              “Oh, I see.”

              “Then, prioritize the network traffic there.” Clea pointed. “That should enhance data flow and get this installed before we die.”

              Paul looked sheepish. “Thank you, Ma’am.” He performed the tasks she suggested. “Captain, we’re up to eighty-five percent.”

              “Does that mean you can give us an ETA?” Everly asked.

              “Yes, sir.” Paul paused. “Sixty seconds.”

              Gray stood. “Redding, range to targets?”

              “Ten seconds for extreme range. Thirty for optimal.”

              “Maneuver us to engage. Have the Silver…” Gray frowned, “the Tam’Dral form up. Ensure we have a forward firing arc on both sides of their ships. I don’t want them to do to us what we did to them. Position will be everything in this conflict.”

              “Don’t like the real name?” Clea asked.

              Gray shook his head. “It’s not as romantic as mine.”

              “Fighters, sir?” Everly asked.

              “Have all patrols come back aboard immediately.” Gray checked the tablet and Clea leaned over to see. There were still fifteen ships combing the area. “Pretty sure the enemy will be meeting us in this full on exchange. Small vessels won’t have anything to contribute.”

              “We are at extreme range,” Redding announced. “Enemy has opened fire.”

              “Hold fast,” Gray said. “They can’t do any appreciable damage yet. They’re just trying to make us flinch.”

              Pulse blasts glanced past them, disappearing into the ether. Those few which connected with their shields were absorbed harmlessly, barely causing a tremor as the Behemoth plodded along, racing toward their fate. The Tam’Dral kept pace with them, spreading out to give them some distance.

              Clea leaned forward, clasping her hands in her lap as she watched the screen. Even if Protocol Seven didn’t work on the Behemoth, it was installed and prepped on the Tam’Dral. And while they may not have the same advantage, their weapons still
hurt
the enemy defenses. Their part of the fight would remain conventional but effective.

             
I have faith in Lieutenant Darnell. He wouldn’t have sent this algorithm if he didn’t believe in it
.

              “Protocol Seven ninety-two percent installed,” Paul announced.

              “Enemy moving into optimal range, sir.” Tim made the comment. He leaned back in his seat and stared at his own console as if something might leap out and grab him at any moment. Redding’s left hand poised over weapon control, her other operating their maneuvering thrusters. Tension in the bridge made it clear the real fighting was about to begin.

              “Let’s give them a false sense of hope,” Gray said. “Redding, turn and give them half a broadside. I want the weapons recharged when Protocol Seven is ready.”

              “Aye, sir.”

              Gray leaned toward his com to speak to the Tam’Dral. “Do
not
fire until we give the order. I want this to be a real surprise for our friends so I’m going to let them think we’re still all operating under the same rules.”

              Clea sat up straighter. “You mean to show them their men were successful in killing the patient, if indeed that’s why they were there.”

              Gray shrugged. “Why not? It may give them the confidence to go back on their wild offensive they seem to like so much.”

              “Which would lead them right into a blast of fire their defenses won’t stop,” Everly smiled. “Good idea, sir.”

              “Let’s not count the explosions before the shots are fired,” Gray replied.

              The Behemoth pivoted, moving away from the Tam’Dral so they opened their port side to the enemy. Redding swiped up with her left hand and tapped something at the top. Half their weapons engaged, pulse blasts ripping through vacuum toward their intended targets. A number of direct hits flashed against shields, harmlessly absorbed.

              “Direct hits,” Paul said. “Damage to shields, as expected. Their power reserve dropped to eighty-five percent but is already recharging.”

              Tim squinted. “They’re picking up speed!”

              “Looks like your ploy may have worked.” Clea fought not to tap her foot nervously. A bead of sweat formed on the side of her head which she did her best to ignore. Never before had she been so anxious to see a result. It wasn’t fear but something else driving her emotions.
Perhaps I’m allowing myself a lot of hope. If this works, my people may be saved.

              “Enemy is engaging on both fronts,” Paul said. “They are attacking the Tam’Dral
and
us, sir…they also seem to be charging.”

              “Where’re you with my install?” Gray nearly growled. Clearly, his patience ran thin and his military side showed. He wanted to end this as much as Clea did but perhaps more so.

              “Ninety-nine percent!” Paul seemed ready to burst with emotion. “Why the hell does it always stop at ninety-nine percent!?”

              “Tam’Dral, this is Captain Atwell.” Gray gripped his arm rests until his knuckles turned white. “Prepare to fire on my command. With or without us, use the protocol seven algorithm and tear these bastards apart. Do you copy?”

              “This is Lieutenant Oxton, sir,” a woman’s voice replied over the speakers. “I copy. We have weapons lock and are ready to engage. Protocol Seven is ready.”

              A blast from the enemy shook the Behemoth, jostling Clea in her seat. She wanted to rush over to Paul’s console again to see where he was at but she refrained, fighting to remain seated. She’d helped as much as she could. The fight, everything happening at that moment, sat squarely on the shoulders of others. Playing the role of observer never felt so frustrating.

              “Shields holding,” Paul said. “Power fluctuation on deck three…mess area.”

              “At least the ice cream will stay cold,” Redding muttered, drawing a laugh from Tim. The brief moment of levity seemed to cut the tension, if only for a moment. Gray started tapping his knee.

              “Paul, you’d damn well better have some good news!”

              The enemy started to press into short range and another blast shook the ship. The Tam’Dral took a similar pounding. Time was absolutely running out. Every shot they allowed their opponents to take held a chaotic potential, to take out shields, their weapons or even get lucky enough to blow their pulse core.

              “We are now within close range!” Redding stiffened. “Permission to fire at will?”

              “Paul!” Gray shouted.

              “It’s installed! It’s installed!” Paul bounced in his seat. “Gathering shield readings…inputting to the weapons console…five seconds…three…now! It’s ready now, sir! Now! Fire!”

              “Tam’Dral, open fire!” Gray gestured to Redding. “Coordinate the assault! Shoot!”

              Redding slammed her hand into the console, tapping away furiously as their weapons discharged. Clea held her breath as the pulse blasts raced toward their targets. A moment passed…they saw the Tam’Dral light up, their own weapons lancing through the darkness.
Will this work?

              No green flash emitted from around the enemy, no indication of shields at all. Just massive bouts of bulbous fire erupting from the metal as the ships were torn into. Large chunks of hull were torn free and though they tried to perform evasive maneuvers, it was far too late. They were in the kill box.

              The Behemoth obliterated the one on the left, leveraging blast after blast upon them until their engines stopped and they began to drift. The Tam’Dral showed similar luck though their opponent put up a fight to the bitter end. An exchange of fire ended when several weapons on their opponent’s vessel exploded, allowing bouts of flame to escape for several moments before it went cold.

              “Their shields were completely ineffective,” Paul spoke solemnly. “Both ships are rapidly losing power.”

              “Now’s our chance to take them,” Clea said, “learn more from their technology, gather prisoners perhaps.”

              “Um…we might not have time,” Paul replied. “Sir, I’m reading a massive energy build up from their core.”

              “Ruptured?” Gray asked.

              “No, sir, this is definitely intentional.”

              Everly cursed. “A self destruct!”

              “Give me a range of impact,” Gray demanded. “What’s minimum safe distance?”

              “Two hundred thousand kilometers,” Paul replied.

              Clea closed her eyes. “How long before the explosion?”

              “Two minutes.”

              “Can we get that far?” Gray asked Redding. “At full speed?”

              “It would be close but…no, sir. I don’t believe we can.”

              “We have another option.” Clea stood. “Initiate the hyper jump. We can close that distance in a few seconds.”

              “That’s a huge risk,” Everly said. “If something goes wrong…”

              Clea gestured at the screen. “Something
is
going wrong.”

              “Clea’s right,” Gray said. “Tam’Dral, do you have hyper jump capabilities?”

              “No, sir but I know what you’re asking. This ship is much faster than the Behemoth. We’ll be out of the blast range in plenty of time. In fact, we’re initiating thrusters now.”

              “Get out of here then.” Gray turned to Tim. “I hope you’ve got a good set of navs for this.”

              “Aye, sir. I think I know just the place to get us to safety.” Tim tapped away at his controls. “Course set and ready for your mark.”

              Gray hit his communicator. “Higgins, we’re going to do a hyper jump.”

              “Is that a good idea?” Higgins asked. “We haven’t tested it before.”

              “After taking out the two enemy ships, I got bored and thought why not try now?”

              “We’re ready for it down here. Go ahead.”

              Redding exchanged a glance with Tim and they began a countdown. Gray took Clea’s arm and gestured for her seat. They both sat down and strapped in, leaning back. She had been in several hyper jumps before but never on an untested ship with an untested crew. The nerves in the room made her tremble.

             
This is not how I hoped to end my first mission with these people.

              “Three…”