Operation Chimera (24 page)

Aaron chuckled. “Well, that too.”

After mopping up the last two Kraits, Michael’s Glaive went along the underside of the
Lewis & Clark
, pulling into formation with the others once he cleared. “We can’t play ‘run around the tree’ with it forever. Liam, see if you have any more luck reaching the carrier. You’ve got the biggest transmitter relay.”

“Why, thank you, sir.”

Emma’s disapproving sigh made them all laugh.

Liam brought the Manta to a full stop in the shadow of the dead ship. His chair slid to the left and rotated ninety degrees to the communication suite, where he got to work on getting some kind of signal out to the
Manhattan
.

“Maybe you can stab it with that blade of yours, Zavex.” Michael laughed. “They’d never see that coming.”

“I don’t think that would―” Zavex fell silent, then laughed. “Sarcasm. I am sorry, I have not familiarized myself with the complete usage of your language yet.”

Emma’s orbit of the Python grew wider. She had it at full speed. 12,500 m/sec in a persistent turn had to be driving the Draxx gunners crazy. They did a fair job of compensating for her velocity, but at that speed small taps on the stick resulted in large changes in lateral orientation. After two particle beams matched her vertical axis, but missed far to the right side, she included thrust variance in her evasion.

“Let me know when you’re ready for it and I’ll come running,” said Emma. “I think they’re getting a bit peevish.”

“Liam?” asked Michael.

“I got nothing, too much electromagnetic interference from the
Lewis
, I think.”

“I possess the idea.” Zavex worked at his flight computer with feverish intensity. “Need a minute or two.”

Aaron snickered. “Even his translator’s tired.”

“It’s launching more fighters,” said Emma. “Might need a hand out here.”

“Bring him in, it’s now or never,” said Michael as he flicked the master arm switch for his missiles.

“Wait, Dragon.” Zavex’s hologram stared intently down at whatever he was doing. “I need another forty seven seconds.”

“Proc, missile on me.”

Keg gasped. “Such language from a lady.”

Liam abandoned the map, jumping back to the flight controls. “Keg, map, please.”

The Manta rose up over the rim of the
Lewis & Clark
, swiveling to bear on the bright white star of energy at the Mosquito’s engines. On his screen, a smaller starburst of yellow light trailed it a few inches behind. Liam stopped breathing, staring into his HUD until he made out individual pixels in the red crosshair. His finger tightened about the trigger.

One neutron beam fired just ahead of the missile, lingering just enough for the warhead to fly right into it and detonate. Everyone was silent, especially Aaron.

Aaron laughed. “Tell, I could kiss you.”

“Pass on that, Hunter,” said Liam.

“Did you just shoot down a missile?” Michael gawked.

“I’ll hold you to that, Sylph.” Liam’s hologram winked at everyone.

Three of the Monitors broke away from her, following the path of the neutron beam back to the Manta. Draxx particle beams raked over the edge of the derelict Liam used for cover, leaving glowing orange streaks in the metal that cooled in seconds. Liam turned, letting them see him zoom off toward the broken end before he dove out of sight behind the wreckage. Michael and Aaron reversed, drifting the other way.

“Twenty seconds more,” said Zavex. “I hope.”

“Attention all my minions!” roared Keg. “I have saved you.”

“You’re lucky I can’t let go of the stick right now,” grumbled Liam.

“Ha, ha, minion.” Keg threw both spindly arms up. LED eyebrows (now red) rose in the center. He pointed one gripper claw at Liam. “You dare threaten to strike a being of such genius? Bow, humans, for I have found your salvation!” Keg whirled, indicating the communication relay with both arms.

“That’s a map, Keg. That’s not the
Manhattan
.”

“Look again, simpleton.”

Liam rolled the Manta hard to the left, pummeling Keg into the ceiling. The droid bounced away, rubbing the top of his frame.

“What was that you were saying?” asked Liam.

“What? Oh, yes. I was able to find our position on the map.” Keg pointed at some moving dots. “From this, I can estimate that the
Manhattan
should be here.” He floated to the right, tracing a circle on the screen.

“Dragon, we have a theoretical location for the carrier. Keg, turret, now!”

“Theoretical? Nice, Tell, what good does that do us?” asked Aaron.

The rest of what he said gulped down his throat as the three Monitors crested the hulk and all turned to chase the Manta. The turret at the top center of the giant battle-axe lit up, harassing the far right Draxx ship.

Michael and Aaron both shot the same one, incinerating the enemy ship in the center in a precise two-shot burst. The other two, realizing there were more fighters behind them, broke away. One went up, the other down.

“I’ll go low,” said Michael, diving in pursuit of the left one.

Aaron chased the other.

“Six seconds,” said Zavex.

The fighter Michael pursued came full about, spotting Zavex’s Glaive just sitting there. Michael held down the trigger for his pulse lasers; streams of red light flew from three winglets, walking it across the trajectory of the Draxx fighter. It took an ill-aimed shot, missing Zavex by a few meters.

Zavex looked up at a yellow flare in his cockpit. “Please keep them off me.”

“Working on it. Doesn’t help that you’re a sitting duck,” Michael had to work to stay on this one’s tail.

Aaron swerved about, toning out a firing solution on the other Monitor. He loosed one Hornet missile, which sailed into the left side of the Monitor. The explosion blasted a sparking hole straight through the ship, but fell short of destroying it. Michael capitalized on the sudden loss of his opponent’s ability to maneuver, another pair of particle beams melted through the Monitor’s right pod, causing it to detonate in place.

A clank alerted Aaron to a glancing strike on his lower right wing, a sputtering trail of sparks leaked out into space behind him. His flight controls muddied up as the system attempted to compensate for a power surge.

“Dragon, I got a friend. Opposing knife edge me.”

“Done,” said Michael, turning head-on at Aaron.

The Glaives rolled belly to belly as they approached, passing within a few meters of each other. As soon as Aaron was clear, Michael fired all weapons at the pursuing Monitor. The Draxx never noticed Michael, hidden behind Aaron’s ship until it was too late for the lizard to even scream.

They circled and collected once more around the Manta.

Michael smiled, relieved that he still had Emma’s hologram on his console. “Emma, what’s going on out there?”

“Oh, nothing much, just playing duck hunt with some Draxx.”

“How’s that working out?” asked Aaron.

“Quack,” she said.

“It is ready?”

“What’s ready, Zavex?”

“I hacked into the derelict and set the power core on a routine that will result in a criticality event. The resulting EMP wave should disable the Python if it is close enough.”

“Great thinking,” said Michael through a grin. “Sylph, reel in the fish.”

“Yes, sir.” She turned the Mosquito toward the
Lewis
and kicked on her afterburner.

Betty’s emotionless voice ticked off “Afterburner ninety percent… Afterburner eighty percent…”

The Python came about, nose pointing in the direction of the fleeing Mosquito, and accelerated. Eight bristling turrets swiveled forward, their barrels condensing inward like closing fingers. Streams of particle energy lit up space, far behind her.

Emma slithered out of the way of incoming beams, wondering why they still called the thrust booster an ‘afterburner.’ The component functioned nothing like the ancient technology from which it had inherited its name. Still, at 21,800 m/sec, the mere act of breathing kept her from seriously considering the question.

“Dragon, Keg has a spot in mind where the carrier might be. I’m sharing the waypoint now.”

A green dot appeared on everyone’s Navcon. Emma corrected course, streaking over the derelict at an angle to keep it between her and the Python. Safe behind the old hulk, she hit the thrust reversers to slow down. Rapid deceleration flung her body forward into the harness once again. She coughed, gasping for breath after a sensation like a punch in the chest.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” said Michael. He did not have to tell anyone to fly toward the waypoint; the entire wing had already started. “Follow Sylph, keep the wreck in its firing arc.”

Their formation tightened.

“How long till it goes off?” asked Aaron.

“It will take us approximately four seconds to reach minimum safe distance.”

“How long till it goes off?” asked Michael.

“Three point nine four seconds.”

ichael kept one eye on the rear-view screen, adjusting course to keep the
Lewis & Clark
superimposed over the approaching Python. The others spread out to either side, far enough away so that a lucky shot from the corvette’s main gun could only get one of them. He paced the Manta, letting the rest of Green Wing fly ahead to the projected safe distance.

“Anyone see anything going on back there?” asked Liam.

“Not yet,” said Zavex.

“No, I mean this beast I’m flying. Betty says it’s got afterburners but I don’t feel anything.”

Michael glanced at his readouts, then to his right at the Manta. “I’m showing your speed at 6250 m/sec, that’s beyond spec for a Manta. They must be on.”

“That’s just my adrenaline leaking through the seat.” Liam let off a nervous laugh. “Ship this size you’d think they’d give it some power. Damn Broadsword is half again bigger than this thing and it can haul.”

“ACS-42’s are also bombers, Liam. They can’t maneuver for a damn. Just meant to naff off once the torpedoes are away,” said Emma.

“Brace―” Zavex’s voice crackled off to silence as every screen in every fighter turned to static.

A spectral wave of energy rode past them, barely visible amid the colorful nebula gas. The effect upon the fighters was as mild as though they rebooted their flight control computers. Thirty seconds later, the silence broke underneath the weight of Keg’s voice attempting to sing dubstep.

“Unce, unce unce, wubb.” He then lapsed into a series of digitized sounds of increasing pitch.

Emma, chuckling, spoke through static. “What the heck happened to the droid?”

“I dunno, he’s having some kind of seizure again,” said Liam.

“I am not.” Keg stopped dancing, and floated back to the co-pilot seat. “I’m happy to be alive. I was singing.”

“That was music?” asked Zavex.

Michael tapped his rear-view screen, blinking at the image it relayed once it came back up. The Python tumbled away from a cloud of debris. Arcs of lightning danced across its mottled green hull. The
Lewis & Clark
had ceased to be, the largest remaining piece of it was about the size of the Mosquito. “Status report, everyone online?”

Everyone chimed in okay.

“Is it dead?” asked Liam.