Chapter 45
Frig-it.
“Is this going to take much longer, Maxton?” Carter sighed as he tapped his foot against the enameled metal floor. The communications room was more of a notion than an actual thing, he had discovered.
Barely more than an empty room with an elementary comms package. It was a great example of something he had noted in every other aspect of the Colony as well. The big ideas were all there, but none of the details.
Detail mattered.
“Ready in five, Under Manager,” Maxton said, head and arms buried in the wires and circuit boards of the console. The extensive sensor suite on the shuttle had been mounted on the tall array in the center of town, and they were now installing the user end in the underused comm room. The rich, silvered console looked strange, sitting next to the battered comm console, the only bit of tech in the compartment. It was, honestly, a poor showing.
He nodded to a guard as they brought in a pair of large screens and placed them on the table while they used a pneumatic punch to mount the retaining arms on the wall next to the console.
Details, Carter thought as he was brought a drink without ice. He had wanted ice. It was a hot day, and he was inside, so there should have been ice.
It was easy to make ice; anyone could make it if they tried.
“No ice?” Carter asked the woman who had handed him the drink.
“We don’t have ice machines, sorry,” she said, shrugging apologetically.
You have no cooling technology?” Carter asked.
“We do, but only for food storage.” Another apologetic shrug.
“Does it freeze the food?” Carter wanted to strangle her.
“Yes,” she admitted.
“You half fill a couple of sealed bags with water, chuck them in for a few hours, and then break the ice with a hammer,” Carter explained patiently. Who didn’t know how to freeze water?
“You do what you want,” the woman huffed. “I don’t do manual labor.” She flounced out of the room. Carter admired the effect. It was rare to see a good flounce. Mind you, there was a reason for that.
“Maxton?” He called.
“Sir?” Maxton straightened and locked the covers in place, twisting the locking pins before pushing them flush with the surface.
“That young lady who was just here?” Carter sipped his tepid drink.
“The one who doesn’t do manual labor?” Maxton asked.
“That’s the one. Be a doll and go show her how to make ice, will you?” Carter asked, grimacing as he sipped the drink.
“Yes, sir,” Maxton smiled as she cracked her knuckles. “Rigorous training?”
“Oh, yes,” Carter turned to the screens as they lit, “Very rigorous.”
“Sir,” Maxton jogged out the door, an eager smile on her face.
Carter carefully placed the horrible drink down on the far end of the table and watched as the screens populated.
Carter had learned to read the scan data when he was still a teen. Nothing more than an intern whose family had saved for years to buy him a single three-month internship on the Imperial Line Tourer Emergent Dreams. A rather fat and greasy man had been his instructor in the scan, and it had been just his luck that the man’s obsession with the technology rubbed off enough before the man slid off his chair halfway through the course. Dead from a brain aneurysm, and young Carter the only other scan tech on board.
Suffice it to say, Carter could read even the bare scan data like he read a book. Easier sometimes.
That would not be needed today, however. The Imperial Line shuttles were all fitted with the kind of sensors that most fleet ships would envy. Information was all in trading, and the Imperial Line liked to win. In fact, they insisted on it.
The left screen flashed through a series of topographic displays, which were populated with the computer’s interpretation of the signals.
Carter had designed much of the software himself, so he trusted it. Duke’s colony filled in fastest, with the second colony showing not long after. The Clutch infestation was third, nothing more than a blank spot where the sensors slid off without so much as identifying a blade of glass.
The last thing to fill in was a single cluster of buildings beyond the scan’s detailed range. Probably some kind of have-a-go homesteader who wanted to try it on their own.
Carter dismissed the information, focusing the sensors on the areas near the main colony. Before he moved on, Carter took out his datapad and made a few notes about the abundant food at the second colony location. That was a people who planned ahead. Once his business with this collection of idiots was done, he should stroll over and have a word. The colony seemed much more likely to survive, and you could always sell food.
There were several moving blank spots on the sensors, and Carter noted the positions for when they cleared out the Clutchlings. You had to get them all, or else it was not a complete extermination. The complete extermination of a small Clutch would be enough of a bonus for him to not only replace his lost ship but upgrade it to a second cruiser.
Carter routed the analysis to the shuttle computer so it could monitor for other details while he turned his attention to the screen on the right-hand side. The uplink to the stealth satellite was functioning well. They had dropped one on entry to the system, as was protocol, and the shuttle had dropped a sealth linkage before entering the atmosphere. In short, he could now see what was going on in the vast expanse of black above them and for a reasonable distance around.
The system scan showed the moon, the station itself, and the nascent planet they both orbited.
Carter frowned at the decreased temperature readings on the volcanic planet. It was much more than one would expect from a few days or regular fluctuations in global mean temperatures, and he made another note on his datapad. Something strange was going on over there. If it was another Clutch settlement messing with things, Carter might be able to upgrade all the way to his own Carrier.
He noted the lack of wreckage from the destroyer and frowned. The ship core had detonated, he knew. Even nanites could not scrape that much space, could they?
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Carter took a negligible risk, focusing the scans on the area around the station itself. It wasn’t an active scan, just more regular pulses of the passive, but still, it was a risk.
Carter waited a few minutes, watching the screens refresh as the detail slowly built.
There.
Carter enlarged a section of the scan, seeing his own destroyer docked at the station with several distorted figures working on it. The bastards had salvaged his ship and were repairing it. No wonder there wasn’t much debris out there. They had towed it back to their station and repaired it.
Carter smiled despite the bubbling anger. You had to respect that old scrapyard spirit. He had been doubtful when Duke told him of Nellie’s origins, but now he was convinced.
A queen would not do that; a scrappy upstart would.
He spent the next two hours making what notes he could about the scan results and preparing the burst packet for transmission when his ships arrived.
“Sir,” Maxton stepped back into the comm room, wiping her somewhat bloody hands clean on a rag as she did so. “I am pleased to report that ice is now available in the colony.”
“Good timing, Maxton,” Carter said as he uploaded the burst transmission and set it to auto-send the moment their satellite picked up the cruiser’s ID beacon. “We are about a half hour from the start of the show; why don’t we summon our hosts to watch?”
“Are you sure, sir?” Maxton said, eyes bright. “I thought we might spend a moment or two in conference?” Her eyes scanned over him in a very enthusiastic way.
“Does violence excite you, Maxton?” Carter asked, never having noticed it before.
“No,” Maxton grinned. “Violence is a tool like any other.”
“Then why the sudden need for a conference?” Carter had to admit that a little light discussion might be entertaining right now.
“You had me force that woman to make you ice,” Maxton said, a slight flush on her cheeks. “I might hate you, but I can’t deny I like to see you being the bastard you are without so much as a hint of guilt.”
“Why in the Imperial Line’s bilge would I feel guilty?” Carter asked, honestly confused. Guilt, or the feeling of it, had never been one of his skills.
“Exactly,” Maxton smiled. “You don’t even get what there is to be guilty about.”
“Fascinating,” Carter said, tapping the table. “Now, go summon our hosts.”
“But–” Maxton hesitated, then nodded and stomped away, her heavy boots nearly cracking the wooden steps.
“Well, that’s a new button to push,” Carter chuckled as he sat back down in his chair. “Guilt? What a concept.”
His drink arrived a moment before Duke and his people arrived. There was so much ice in the glass that there was barely room for the alcohol.
“It’s getting a little chilly as the sun goes down,” Carter said as he waved it away. “Bring me something hot.”
“What?” The woman stammered.
“Hot? As in, not cold?” Carter replied dismissively. “You are familiar with heating things?”
“Of course!” The woman practically ran from the room.
“Now that’s more like it,” Carter grinned to himself as Duke arrived, looking back at the woman scurrying away with evident confusion on his face.
“Has there been a problem, Carter?” Duke asked.
“Not at all, Dukey,” Carter waved him over. “I just thought you would like to see the end of the Nanite Space Service’s hold over your quaint little colony.”
“Confident, aren’t you?” Duke asked as he sat next to Carter and frowned at the scan screens. “How long has this been working?”
“A matter of hours now,” Carter replied.
“I wasn’t told,” Duke said with a hint of reproach.
“My dear man, I am not responsible for the lack of information you have,” Carter replied amiably. “I’d talk to your people about it.”
“I shall do,” Duke said angrily. “Count on it.”
“Good man, now, let’s watch the fireworks, shall we?” Carter looked over as Brenda arrived. “Oh, lovely. It will be good to get a pirate’s view of the battle. Join us, please.”
Brenda glowered but didn’t comment.
It seemed her brother had been training her. It was about time.
The last to arrive was a puffing and panting Hadrian.
“What is happening?” he gasped as he arrived.
“My ships are arriving,” Carter glanced down at his datapad and the small countdown in the corner of the screen. “In three, two, one…”
===<<<>>>===
“Contact!” Vey called. “Two ships have jumped in system, close formation.” He began the active scans as he hunched over the console at his station on the command deck of the Bly’s Rest. “Confirmed. A cruiser and a frigate, both coming in fast with weapons and shields lit.”
“Sending trajectory readings to the Revenge,” Lucy said, her voice coming from everywhere at once.
Salem nodded as warning klaxons began to sound throughout the station. “All hands, all hands, hostile targets inbound. All non-emergency personnel are to report to the emergency shelter compartments immediately. I repeat, hostile targets inbound.”
“Bly’s Revenge, to Rest, launching now!” the voice from the comm line was Quad. They hadn’t had time to assign anyone else to replace Vey before their guests arrived.
“Destiny to Rest, requesting launch.” Vey sounded proud aboard his new ship.
“Confirmed, Destiny,” Dar replied quickly. “Launch permission granted.”
“Pushing back now,” Vey called, and Salem watched the dock's telltales shift to red as it pulled free of the station.
“Bring up the defenses,” Salem ordered as she punched through the menus in front of her. One by one, the automated satellites lit up their weapons and shields. A loud thunk sounded as the blast shields closed over the upper levels, sealing the hydroponics levels from attack.
“Troops deploying to positions,” Dar confirmed.
Flicking through the interior monitors, Salem saw the heavy Centrum models arriving in groups of ten outside each airlock and assuming a defensive formation.
“Shifting power to shields,” Salem warned as the lights dipped and a series of shield generators powered on around the station. The overlapping pattern was stronger than a regular shield system, but it would consume over seventy percent of their power to keep it running.
“Shields up and holding steady,” Dar confirmed. “Detail on the enemy vessels coming in now.”
Salem scanned over the information, paying close attention to the readouts as she ran probabilities on her head. Her system estimated the chance of breach at almost sixty percent.
“That cruiser is pretty well armed,” Dar said nervously. “And that frigate is faster than anything we have.”
“Only if we play fair,” Salem replied calmly. “The Queens will prevail.”
Nellie strapped herself into the captain’s chair on the bridge of the Bly’s Revenge and checked her helmet was secured and within reach. It never hurt to be prepared.
Around her, the bridge crew was hard at work. It was strange to have so many of them replaced with the cents, but needs must.
“I’m receiving clear scans from the station,” Remy said as he frowned at the screen in front of them. “The cruiser is a tough bastard, no mistake about that.”
“How does it compare to us?” Nellie asked.
“Shields are weaker, but that is thick armor they are running. It will take time to punch through, and the whole time, we are going to take hits.” Remy replied.
“How maneuverable is it?” Nellie asked.
“Slow, not intended to turn fast. Cruisers are intended to sit and take a pounding while they unload onto the enemy.” Remy replied.
“What about the frigate?” Nellie asked, watching the small blip of the Destiny as it kept pace with them.
“Fast and agile, but weak armor.” Remy smiled. “I think the Destiny can take it, even as it is.”
“Very well, have Vey lock the frigate down, and we will proceed to the cruiser.” Nellie brought up the systems status boards on her holoscreens.
“Can I say it?” Quad asked excitedly.
“Go ahead,” Nellie smiled despite the tension roiling inside her.
“ALL HANDS! ALL HANDS! LET’S BLOW THESE FUCKERS!” Quad roared into the ship-wide comm.
“You lot are spending too much time with Banjo,” Nellie sighed.
Ahead of them, the frigate accelerated away from the cruiser, making a beeline for the moon.
“Destiny, weapons free,” Nellie called and watched the small blip disappear as the destroyer micro jumped to cut off the frigate.
“Weapons range on the cruiser in one minute!” Remy called.
“Shift the Mark Seven generator to shields,” Nellie ordered. “We're gonna take a pounding.”
“Aye, Captain!” Prim called.
“Here we go people,” Nellie said, sitting forward as she dialed her senses up to maximum. “Combat stations!”