MotherShip (40 page)

War became everything, and it would never end.

The screams of Kraaqi and Hrono warriors pierced across every comm channel as the battle intensified.

“I've got a whole squadron of T'kaan Hunters on me—one hundred and forty four incoming!” Rok shouted. He looked around at what was left of his original fighters.

Only four other fighters remained now.

“Rok!” Rawlon shouted from the comm.

“My First Captain,” Rok returned.

“I am sending you the Band of Thunder's fighters. They are yours. Ulfa's ship was just destroyed. But he fought off the attackers at quadrant nine point zero one before he died. You must hold those forward positions now—as well as your assigned sector. The T'kaan are regrouping at that quadrant as we speak, so concentrate your ships on the ones attacking you. And then defend the other position!”

“How many fighters?” Rok asked as he looked at the oncoming T'kaan fighters, now joined by a formation of six T'kaan frigates.

“Sixty-two.”

Rok cursed. The Band of Thunder had begun with over three hundred fighters.

Mother approached the crippled Kraaqi battleship to give it aid and fired a spread of torpedoes at the three T'kaan battleships attacking it.

The shields of the lead battleship buckled. Mother fired her main weapons at it, creating huge holes in its armored hull where they struck. The T'kaan ship slowed, and its systems began to fail.

The other two battleships shuddered as their shields blossomed from the direct hits of the torpedoes. But on they came.

Their guns suddenly erupted with massive broadsides.

The Kraaqi battleship exploded instantly with no shields to protect her.

Finally, the indicator lit for her Hybrid weapon .

Mother rammed her engines full and dove hard. She lined up the two T'kaan battleships, one before the other, in her targeting sites. They had drawn close together in order to intensify their fire on the Kraaqi battleship.

Too close.

Mother's hybrid weapon erupted, cutting through the first ship's port side and exploding out the other and on into the second battleship. The red beam did not exit the second T'kaan battlewagon.

Both battleships rocked and shuddered a few moments as the internal explosions rippled down their lengths until suddenly both exploded into twin blossoms of light.

Alarms screamed inside Mother as she banked hard again to avoid more Hunter fighters. She redirected her energies once again, powering her Hybrid weapon for another shot, even as she began new repairs to her damaged shields.

For the second time, her power grid went off-line and the backup took over. She began repairs again, ordering the Fixers and Guardian to specific points to assist. And then her shields glowed under direct hits—more damage.

Mother started to activate the circuits to reload her torpedoes—and stopped. There were no more torpedoes left.

She would have to take on the three frigates attacking her with her main batteries alone.

“We've lost Dragaz's entire battleship squadron,” Kaldah shouted.

The Hrono Admiral studied the main viewscreen a moment, quickly he glanced down to the electronic layout of the fleets on the personal display beside his chair.

Dragaz's ships had already fired the fifth and final firing of their hybrid weapon—they had done what they could. The Hrono battleships had been dueling with twice their number of T'kaan battleships these last few minutes—exchanging horrendous broadsides from their main batteries between firings of the hybrid weapon—and it was during those haunted minutes between firings when most of the Hrono ships fell before the T'kaan fire.

The four remaining T'kaan battleships were now coming for his ship, along with several frigates and two waves of fighters in support.

“Order the Scorpion, the Victorious, the Valiant and the Destroyer to close and fire their hybrid weapons on my mark,” Tarlog ordered. He took a deep breath, and looked back at the electronic display, taking stock of what ships he had left.

The smaller of the two Hrono battle phalanxes had been just been crushed. The main formation, which he led, was now being pounded. The T'kaan were attacking it from three directions as the Hrono phalanx continued to press forward. Worse, the T'kaan were now gathering forces at his rear, organizing themselves to attack from a fourth direction.

Tarlog glanced up. “Fire!”

On the viewscreen, the four T'kaan battleships intersected with the thick red bolts. They exploded, filling the viewscreen with a sudden, intense brightness, like four small stars going nova.

“We have twenty-seven total ships left with an operational hybrid weapon, sir.” Kaldah reported.

“I know,” Tarlog whispered. “And they are almost down to their last firing.”

“Order the remaining battleships to slow. Send all the battle cruisers forward to lead us,” Rawlon shouted. He stood and marched across the bridge to one of the console stations, watching the officer as he worked its controls. “All other light cruisers and frigates are to hold their positions in phalanx.”

Rawlon reached over to the console and tapped in a command. He waited.

The Kraaqi were down to twelve battleships, each with two firings of the hybrid weapon. The battle cruisers had been hammered as well, protecting their assigned quadrants of the mighty phalanx formation. But there were twenty battle cruisers left.

There were seventy other cruisers remaining within the main phalanx after the right one had fallen and its remaining ships had joined his formation.

But some of those ships were down to their last firing.

“The Kraaqi left phalanx is falling,” Curja said from his station. Several seconds ticked by in morbid silence, and then he sighed. He looked up at Rawlon. “They are no more.”

The last Kraaqi phalanx, along with the lone Hrono phalanx, continued their bloody advance.

Rawlon walked back to his chair. But he remained standing, thinking deeply.

“Order all capital ships of the Hrono and Kraaqi to use their normal weapons array first. We must save the hybrid weapon,” Rawlon said decisively.

Rawlon turned and sat in his chair, staring at the oncoming T'kaan ships. “I hope I have a reason for saving them,” he whispered to himself.

“Got'em!” Jaric shouted to Kyle.

Kyle righted his ship, no longer pursued by the T'kaan ship Jaric had just destroyed. “Thanks, bud. That's the last of that wave. We need to find Rok and form up again with the squadron,” Kyle said.

Their two fighters drew closer together as they flew through the debris field of fallen ships. As they looked around all they could see was nothing but floating destruction, and off in the distance a firestorm of blaster fire in every direction—as far as their eyes could see.

“I hate to bring this up, but my weapons are getting pretty low,” Kyle said.

Jaric glanced down to check his weapon's status but his eyes were drawn to his sensor screen first and the all too familiar shapes. “We've got more company. Six Hunter fighters incoming”

“Let's get'em,” Kyle said with a business-like tone.

“Hard over!” Rawlon shouted.

The T'kaan cruisers fired, and the Thunderer shuddered under multiple hits.

“Load torpedoes!” Rawlon shouted again. “And get me reinforcements.”

Curja raised himself from where he had fallen. Taking his hand, he wiped the streaming blood out of his eyes. “All ships are engaged, sir. We must fight these three ourselves.”

“Give me more shields,” Rawlon barked. “I want the hybrid weapon targeted at that cruiser on the right.” Rawlon gripped his chair. He knew his flagship would be down to its last firing after this strike.

In a sudden, blinding flash, two of the T'kaan cruisers onscreen exploded. But the Thunderer had not fired. A manta-ray silhouette now shot across the horned prow of the third T'kaan cruiser as it began firing after it.

“MotherShip!” Rawlon shouted gleefully. “The warship that lives has taken out two of them with a single shot!” He turned to the weaving form of his First Officer. “Send the entire spread of torpedoes into the remaining ship.”

“S-sir,” Curja stammered. “We are reaching a critically low level of torpedoes remaining...”

“I don't care!” Rawlon cut him off. “Send that ship out of this galaxy. Now!”

The five torpedoes in the spread ran straight and true. All but one found their mark as the T'kaan ship slowly rose straight upward and disappeared in a string of violent explosions.

As the explosions died away, Rawlon's eyes remained fixed on the darkened viewscreen. There before him, a clear field of stars broke out with no T'kaan ships in sight.

“We're through,” Rawlon said in disbelief.

He stood quickly, not expecting this sudden view of an empty star field. All that he had seen there before, T'kaan warships bearing down on him, had seemed to last for an eternity.

“Are we through?” Rawlon asked, his mind refusing to believe what his eyes told him.

Curja leaned heavily against his station, the blood from the wound on his head spattering across its dials and controls. Moving his arm painfully, his fingers worked doubly hard on the damaged console to coax its report.

“We are through.”

“How many ships are still with us?” Rawlon waited expectantly, the silence of the bridge punctuated by the sounds of electronics shorting out in a shower of sparks from various other damaged stations.

“Two thirds... are lost.” Curja reported in a low voice.

“And the Hrono?”

Curja punched painfully at his console. “Only a handful of ships. Less than a dozen capital ships. And...” Curja winced. “The Mewiis are completely surrounded. Their defensive perimeter is failing.” With a heavy sigh Curja slumped over his console.

Another officer moved over and sat him gently on the floor as he began tending his wounds.

“Get me the MotherShip.” Rawlon ordered to a third officer.

Mother flew out into the empty space. She almost felt the battle was over. Redirecting her circuits away from her shields for the moment, she began taking stock of the situation.

Behind her, the sole remaining Kraaqi phalanx was emerging, as was the remnants of the Hrono fleet, which was more the size of a battle group now.

Her sensors stretched out.

She noted the T'kaan ships, now regrouping to attack them from the position they had just emerged from. They had only a few minutes respite at most.

She also observed that just over half of the T'kaan fleet had been destroyed, whereas most of the allied fleet was no more.

A comm signal vied for her attention.

“What are we to do now, MotherShip?” Rawlon's voice asked.

Mother's sensors stretched out again, but this time she centered on their present position, which was really the T'kaan rear. Like a huge spider's web, she noted the sensor readings that originated from the Great Horned ship. It was almost like background noise, she realized. It had been recorded before in the human-T'kaan war, but had been overlooked as unimportant. The myriad of signals pulsated out to the combined T'kaan fleets and the other two Great Horned ships located nearby.

This particular one was the Great Horned ship of the Second fleet, now turning slowly away from them, along with its escort of cruisers and frigates.

“There actually seems to be a ship turning away from us,” Mother said.

Tarlog suddenly appeared on Rawlon's viewscreen. “And remember, this ship is different from the others. Note the huge amount of communication signals originating from it.”

Rawlon reviewed the Hrono data. “This ship has no weapons, but it does have massive life signs—life signs equal to that of a well-populated planet!”

“Actually, two densely populated worlds,” Mother added.

“It runs for a reason,” Rok shouted from his fighter.

Rawlon stood. “There are only twelve T'kaan cruisers, and twelve frigates escorting her. We even have them outnumbered.” He smiled. “All ships. Attack!”

They turned for the fleeing ships.

“Tarlog, your ships must fight a rear-guard action. The other T'kaan ships are now coming for us. They realize what we're doing. Hold them back as long as you can.”

“I will,” Tarlog said with conviction.

The Kraaqi ships, now led by Mother, moved for the huge T'kaan ship.

As their target became obvious, the T'kaan escort ships moved away from the retreating ship on an intercept course with the attacking allied ships.

“Rawlon, save your hybrid weapons for the Great Horned ship,” Mother ordered.

“Acknowledged,” Rawlon said.

For the first time that day, the Kraaqi and humans engaged the T'kaan with numerical superiority. But the T'kaan ships fought the fiercest of any that day.

Fighters streamed for them and attacked savagely. Jaric and Kyle each led a Kraaqi formation of fighters while Rok led his own. With a blinding flash of firepower, the cruisers of each fleet unleashed their broadsides simultaneously.

Mother fired her hybrid super-weapon at the lead cruiser and destroyed it with a single blow. Evading the oncoming fighters, she swept around the T'kaan ships and on toward the retreating Great Horned ship.

Behind her, Jaric and Kyle's squadrons closed with the fighters she had just weaved through.

Her alarms, for the first time that day, gradually began to go silent as her circuits prioritized the repair activities. Mother's shields now grew to almost eighty percent of full strength, and even her main power grid stabilized. Mother placed the backup power grid into
sleep mode
.

The T'kaan ship ahead grew larger on her sensors.

Mother stretched her sensors out to it at this close range, and she finally understood.

Her rear sensors noted that the last T'kaan cruiser was being destroyed by the Thunderer, and the rest of the Kraaqi ships were coming forward through the remaining T'kaan fighters. But there were fewer Kraaqi ships registering on her sensors.

Mother concentrated her processing power on the data streaming in from her forward sensors.