MotherShip (13 page)

In the next few seconds everything went crazy.

Mother fired off two of her torpedoes and even opened up with her ground-strafing guns, though these were more for a distraction than to do any actual damage to the T'kaan fighters.

The small T'kaan ships returned fire and explosions ripped the sky all around the MotherShip. Mother could not get her shields above thirty-seven percent, but she still pulled ahead of the pack, her damaged engines still more powerful than these small enemy fighters.

Suddenly, the blip on her screen that was Jaric began a precipitous dive. She banked hard and screamed into a tight turn—directly back into her pursuers—redirecting her limited shields forward for at least some measure of protection.

Every gun began firing as T'kaan ships veered away or erupted in flames to avoid her mighty wrath.

Jaric, too, was fighting for his life as his ship plummeted down with no power.

He was in a straight-down dive as he frantically worked to get one of his engines back on-line. It was obvious his port engine was gone, but there was a sudden, momentary flicker of life in the starboard one. He concentrated his efforts there when blaster fire erupted all around him.

But Mother was there, too, bearing down on the three fighters like death incarnate. With her engines screaming their pain and abuse, she quickly pummeled the T'kaan into scraps of flying debris as she roared past.

But Jaric's dead ship continued its one-way dive.

Suddenly everything was illuminated as if Kittim's sun had gone supernova.

“What's that?” Becky shouted as she scanned the new intruder.

It was shaped like one of the Hunter class fighters. But this one was the size of a Frigate and it was bearing down on Mother with a deadly purpose written on every dark angle of its horned hull.

Again, one of its six horns spat and the huge tracer streaked towards Mother.

Mother's processors scrambled for control amidst all the alarms and warnings shouting from her damaged systems. She felt confused as her sensors picked up the incoming fire. As if in a daze, she braced herself under her depleted shields.

The direct hit knocked her into a shivering loop, and then into a dive. Down, down she went as she fought to regain control of her systems. Through sheer will power alone, Mother righted herself.

But now her shields were buckled and destroyed. Mother felt a sudden coldness as she realized that she had no power to direct to her weapons, there was only enough for her engines and repairs.
Or was there?

Hundreds of alarms screamed throughout her circuitry as Mother fought to clear her mind.

Another huge strike leapt from the new ship's horns—this one meant to be the death stroke.

Mother's sensors watched it coming for her with an odd detachment, even as she realized she was defenseless.

At the last second Mother turned hard, giving her hull its smallest profile as the beam reached her. The beam glanced across her hull, but the passing shockwave again caused Mother to shudder right down to her internal processors. Now her once shiny hull was blackened and scarred.

For the first time, Mother was fighting for her very life as she sought in vain to bring back her shields and prepare to fight this unknown and terrible adversary.

“We've got to help her, Kyle!” Becky shouted.

But both had their hands full as the remaining enemy ships circled around them. Mother had bought them time to get their shields back up to a point to withstand a couple of more hits, but neither had the time or fire power to come to her aid.

Far below and free from attacks because of his apparent one-way trip, Jaric's frantic efforts were rewarded with the faintest of sounds from the starboard engine as the ground grew rapidly before his eyes. With that tiny bit of power, he gained enough control to land in one piece.

Almost.

He jumped out of the smoking, broken ship and hobbled quickly away, just in time to see a small T'kaan fighter make its own emergency landing behind him. But its efforts did keep the dark ship in one piece.

Pulling his hand blaster, Jaric rushed over as the cockpit opened. But his blaster was not needed. The ugly creature was already dead from its wounds, its dying act landing the fighter.

A great light from the sky suddenly made everything glow with a blinding intensity. Shielding his eyes, Jaric looked up.

He saw a T'kaan ship unlike any he had seen before. The huge guns seemed to be meant for a cruiser-class ship. Jaric didn't need his instruments to tell him that Mother was in great danger.

He watched helplessly as Mother twisted and turned, avoiding the constant hail of fire from the new ship's massive laser cannons. But her maneuvers were growing weaker and weaker.

Looking back, Jaric saw a crippled alien fighter fly around behind the new ship that was pursuing Mother. The rear shields dropped and a large hangar door opened. The fighter flew inside.

Without hesitation, Jaric did something he had thought he would never do again. He climbed inside the smoking alien fighter that sat beside him.

Instantly, he felt the old gripping fear from the nightmares of his youth, but he forced them away with a shout of anger. He flinched as the Super Hunter fired again, lighting up the sky.

Jaric put his hands into the slim molds built for T'kaan tentacles. He concentrated, remembering his first time in a T'kaan fighter long ago.

The Scout fighter rose.

He repeated the mistake of his youth and put the ship into Homing mode. A few minutes later, he was at the rear of the SuperHunter.

The T'kaan warship launched another blinding salvo at the scarred hull of Mother, and then the rear shields dropped. The T'kaan fighter with Jaric at the controls entered the opened hull door.

Three other fighters appeared inside the large interior as they were readied to join the battle outside. As Jaric quickly glanced around the dark interior, he realized the belly of the Super-Hunter was a web of T'kaan activity.

Jaric went into action.

The three T'kaan fighters erupted into exploding fireballs as Jaric fired. Next, Jaric turned his ship and began firing into the exposed inner hull of the SuperHunter.

Again and again he fired, the tracers disappearing into wall ahead of him, streaking through compartment after compartment into the very heart of the ship. Explosions blossomed before him like a fiery garden.

Jaric wasn't sure where any specific vital part of the ship might be located, so he pressed the firing contact and held it fast.

Explosions erupted with increasing violence along with larger and larger pieces of debris flying out in all directions. Suddenly, he felt it. Everything began to tilt over to one side as an exceptionally strong explosion shook him and his small fighter until it seemed his teeth would shake out of his very head. In the next instant, a solid wall of explosive fire came directly at him as he grabbed the controls and brought his ship around.

Smoke and explosions suddenly erupted all around the giant hangar bay now, streaking at him from every direction.

It was time to leave.

He had dared not look behind as he had begun his attack. Now, as he brought the ship around, he felt his heart pounding. For if the giant hangar door had closed completely, he would die here inside this ship.

“Yes!” He screamed as he saw the slim opening and the stars beyond. He pushed the throttle wide open and leapt through into the bright sunlight.

Jaric roared outward a short distance before he turned his head for a look at his handiwork.

The six great horns on the prow were just impacting with the surface of the planet as the smoking SuperHunter was engulfed in a final, mighty explosion.

The remainder of the T'kaan fighters fled for the safety of the stars.

But the victory was short-lived.

As soon as they had made contact each other and verified that the last T'kaan fighter was indeed piloted by Jaric, Becky sent out a message to Mother.

Only silence returned.

The three ships raced up to the docking bay of the blackened and silent ship, and there they felt their hearts drop as the door remained strangely closed. Panic swept through each of them. Finally, Becky remembered the never-before-used manual override. She entered the command and the three flew inside as the door finally opened.

“What's wrong? Mother, answer me!” Becky shouted with fear in her voice.

Becky became frantic as the deathly silence continued over their private communication channel—no static, just a final, ominous silence.

The cockpits of each fighter were thrown open simultaneously as the three leapt out.

Kyle stopped and sniffed the air. “Life Support is off! We've got to get that going quick or we're not going to be breathing long.”

Fixer6 rolled into view amid the low glow of the red emergency lights.

“Fixer, get Life Support functioning immediately,” Jaric ordered in a terse voice.

The little robot turned around in a flash and rolled toward Engineering as it sent a silent call to its brethren Fixers.

The three young people raced down the corridor in the opposite direction of Fixer6 and on towards Main Ops. But they voiced none of their usual banter or bragging after a successful fight, no talk of how many ships each one had downed or how spectacular their flying had been. There was none of the joking they normally used to ease the tension after a hard-fought battle.

There was only a tense, throbbing silence between them, broken only by the sound of their running feet echoing ghostly off of the metallic walls.

They were afraid.

The silence grew heavier as they noted that none of the optical viewers were functioning. Worse, there was a strange lack of noise, silent except for the faint throbbing of the sub-light engines. Except that noise, too, was unfamiliar—a strange, uneven rhythm from the engines of power.

But something else was missing.

They ran faster.

They burst into the control room but stood frozen in the doorway. Across the long rows of displays and lights, amidst the controls and switches that adorned the scores of blank consoles, there was an eerie lack of activity. And what little that was going on seemed to be strangely chaotic.

All three walked slowly over to the main console. They waited silently, with bowed heads.

The minutes seemed an eternity. Kyle straightened, and alone he walked to the familiar viewscreen. He reached slowly towards its darkened surface. Gently, with shaking fingers, he traced the outlines of a face that had appeared so many times from it. His lips trembled as he tried to speak. Finally, he forced the words out that were burning inside each of their hearts.

“Please be alright. Please.”

At once dozens of lights became active, and then the optical viewer buzzed to life. But the familiar face they expected on the main console did not appear. Instead a strange, electronic voice with a deep bass tone spoke to them.

“I...am still assessing (static) damage. Internal repairs... will...(static) take time.”

“Are you badly damaged?” Jaric and Becky rushed excitedly to Kyle's side.

There was a long silence.

“I have lost much of my near-term memories. I also have suffered extensive damage across my main power grid as well as in several of my major circuits.” The strange voice paused with anguish. “My sub-light engines have suffered substantial damage, some of which I cannot repair. My internal diagnostics have not finished.”

The silence returned.

The three continued their vigil long into the night. Each found a spot and rested silently inside the room. They did not talk because they were still afraid—afraid to disturb Mother from her lifesaving repairs. Finally, after many long hours had passed, Becky and Jaric each retired to their own rooms to get some sleep.

Kyle alone stayed.

The harsh silence haunted the air.

After they left, Kyle moved closer to the main console and the optic above it. He rested one hand upon the darkened screen as he looked up expectantly with tired eyes. After a while, he bowed his head with fatigue and continued his lone vigil.

Several hours passed. Suddenly Kyle spoke, breaking the thick silence.

“I...I have to tell you something, Mother. Can you hear me?”

“I hear you, Kyle. Please speak.” Mother's true voice had returned, though the screen remained dark.

A smile lit his tired features, only to flicker away. He leaned closer.

“I'm sorry that you are hurt. It's my fault, if I hadn't been...”

“Do not blame yourself. The T'kaan are a powerful enemy.” Mother's voice comforted.

Kyle cleared his throat as he rubbed his eyes hurriedly a few moments. As he removed them, two tiny tears ran down his cheeks. He leaned closer to the console.

“But all those things I said.” He shook his head in shame. With a sigh, Kyle stared down at his hands nervously, unwilling to bring his eyes up to meet Mother's optics. “You're right, you know. We should leave. I've guessed for a long time now that we would not really find anybody. I've just been...”

Kyle drew a long, ragged breath.

“Anyway, I think we should leave, as soon as you're ready.” Kyle clenched his eyes shut, only to have more tears stream down his wet cheeks. “There's one more thing I want to tell you. I should have told you long ago.”

Mother waited.

“Please tell me, Kyle”

He looked down as his hands fumbled aimlessly along the edge of the console.

“I just wanted to tell you that... I love you.”

Mother considered the words, digested their meaning and referenced them in various contexts within her massive knowledgebase. It took several, long seconds.

In the end, it was a song by
The Beatles
that she focused on as her reference to Kyle's expression. A song about love, naturally.

As the words and music played inside her internal memories, she felt an odd buzzing begin in her processors. Almost as if the words and song had a meaning for her—a simple ship.

For the first time in her short life, she almost understood what it meant to be alive—to really be alive.