Cradle of War (A Captain's Crucible Book 3) (17 page)

BOOK: Cradle of War (A Captain's Crucible Book 3)
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“The same fate the Raakarr originally intended for the crew of the
Selene?
” Jonathan said.

“That was the Elk faction...” Barrick replied.

“As if that excuses anything.” Jonathan folded his arms. “Look. I said I would be staying here with ten combat robots. That should be all the assurance Valor needs. I’m the most valuable bargaining chip he has.” That wasn’t entirely true, given the mutiny Jonathan had committed, but Valor didn’t need to know that.

“Come on,” Jonathan said. “Time’s wasting away. Every moment we delay brings our pursuers that much closer. We have to move into position before they arrive.”

“Is it really necessary to distribute the human crew?” Barrick asked. “The AIs are fully capable of completing the mission on their own.”

“I would rest easier knowing my crew were off this ship,” Jonathan said. “Do whatever it takes to convince Valor those corvettes need to be manned. Tell him the AIs function better when human beings are aboard. That the ships take less calculated risks, because they want to increase the odds that their passengers will survive, and thus the AIs perform better.”

Barrick’s eyes defocused for several moments, then he returned his attention to Jonathan. “Valor doesn’t seem convinced.”

Because Valor was a control freak, Jonathan had expected some resistance, but not
this
much.

Jonathan stared at the telepath intently. “Should I order my crew to shoot their way out of the airlock?”

“I’ll pass on the threat,” Barrick said.

Connie spoke up, excluding the telepath from the line. “I want to remind the captain that while I’ve programmed our laser rifles to penetrate the frequency of their shielding devices, there’s no guarantee the aliens haven’t changed those frequencies since we acquired the darkness device.”

“Noted,” Jonathan told her.

Barrick swiveled his torso toward Jonathan. “Valor says he doesn’t believe you will attempt to shoot your way out of the berthing area.”

Jonathan didn’t want to jeopardize their fragile alliance by doing something like that, but then again, what kind of relationship did they have if the Raakarr wouldn’t even allow them the freedom to leave the ship?

There was one last tactic he could try...

“Ask him how much he thinks his bargaining position will be reduced when the United Systems finds out he kept us here against our wishes, when we had a chance to man two corvettes. Ask him what NAVCENT will do when it finds out we were forced to fight our way off the
Talon.
Valor won’t look like much of an ally then, will he?”

Barrick retreated into his head once more.

Jonathan literally held his breath as he willed Valor to accept.

Barrick shook his head. “He says no.”

Jonathan glanced at the two combat robots with him on the bridge, and wondered vaguely if they would be able to protect him if the Raakarr guards attacked.

“Tell Valor that if he does not open the airlock,” Jonathan said. “We
will
shoot it open.”

Barrick hesitated, then his eyes defocused. He said: “Valor begs you to reconsider.”

Jonathan decided to tip his hand. “Tell him we know the penetration frequency of his darkness generators. Tell him if he doesn’t open the airlock and allow my crew to proceed to the hangar bay, my men are going to shoot open the hatch and take down any Raakarr that get in the way. Tell him I’m not bluffing. I’m dead serous about this.”

Several tense minutes passed.

Finally Barrick had a reply: “As a show of his benevolence and good faith, Valor will allow the rest of your party to depart, so that they may crew the two corvettes. You must stay of course.”

“Thank you,” Jonathan said, slumping inside his spacesuit.

“Have the crew leave quickly,” Barrick said. “Before he changes his mind.”

“Did Valor tell you to say the latter?” Jonathan asked.

“No,” Barrick said. “That was my bit. I suggest you hurry.”

“The airlock is opening,” Rodriguez sent.

“Then get going!” Jonathan replied. “Leave four of the robots behind in the berthing area, as part of my guard contingent.” Counting the four already in the hangar bay, and the two with Jonathan on the bridge, that made up the ten robots Jonathan had agreed would stay with him. The four in the hangar bay would have to take shelter in the airlock during departure, of course.

“Any preferences on crew assignments?” Rodriguez asked.

“Rail gets one corvette, you get the other,” Jonathan answered. “As for the rest, I don’t really care, as long as you all get off the
Talon
.”

Jonathan watched their progress on his aReal map, which displayed those portions of the ship his party had previously passed through. When they reached the hangar bay, and were in the process of loading into the shuttle, Rodriguez transmitted: “Good luck, Dallas.”

“You too, Captain,” Jonathan replied.

Rail ended up going alone to her chosen corvette, the
Tesla
. Whether that was by her choice, or the crew members, he didn’t know. She did take two combat robots with her, however.

Once she was aboard, she promptly rechristened the vessel the
Artemis
. “My ship, my name,” she sent.

Jonathan didn’t mind, as the original was too similar to the
Talon
for his liking.

Chief Galaal, Helium, Connie, and Sil Chopra joined the rest of the combat robots to serve under Rodriguez on the
Galilei
.

After delivering the crews, the Dragonfly re-docked with the
Talon
, and the three ships proceeded to their agreed-upon positions.

All that was left to do was wait.

twenty-four

 

W
hen the
Callaway
and
Dagger
finally reached the fifteenth moon of the third gas giant, as a precaution Robert had both ships sound general quarters. They left a telemetry drone in high orbit around the gas giant, along with two repeater drones to boost their signals, so that they would be able to remain in contact with the first task unit through the interference of the radiation belts.

“Take us into geosynchronous orbit above the thermal anomaly,” Robert ordered the helm.

“Because of the moon’s slow rotation, such an orbit might be a bit higher than you expected, Commander,” the helmsman said.

“How high are we talking?” Robert said.

“One hundred thousand kilometers,” the helmsman said.

“You’re right,” Robert said. “That is a bit high. I was thinking something more along the lines of fifty thousand kilometers.”

While the telemetry drone had reported no sign of planetary weapons, Robert didn’t feel comfortable getting closer than that.

“I can certainly orbit above the site at that altitude,” the helmsman said. “But I’ll have to fire thrust occasionally to keep us there, to simulate a geosynchronous orbit.”

“That’s fine,” Robert said.

Several minutes later the helmsman said: “Simulated geosynchronous orbit achieved.”

“All right,” Robert said. “Maxwell, let’s get Dragonflies 3 and 4 down there. I want an automated party: spread a platoon of Centurions between the shuttles. Include a Raptor for close air support.”

Though the moon had no atmosphere, the weapons engineers had designed the MQ-95 Raptors to operate just as easily in the void.

“Combat robots only?” Miko asked.

“That’s what I said. Call it a preliminary scouting party.” He glanced at his first officer. “You were hoping I’d send you down with a couple of MOTHs, weren’t you?”

Miko shrugged. “The thought had crossed my mind. It would be nice to get off the ship. Now and again.”

“Sorry Miko,” Robert said. “Not this time. I had a bit of a close call on my last away mission, and I don’t want to risk any human lives this time.”

“I understand, sir,” Miko said.

“We’re going to have to string out three more telemetry drones between the landing party and the
Callaway
in order to receive a decent feed,” Maxwell said. “Because of the interference from the radiation belts.”

“Do it,” Robert said.

The two Dragonflies, three repeater drones, and their Raptor escort departed the
Callaway
shortly thereafter. The repeater drones halted in turn at preset heights on the way down. The Raptor assumed a high-altitude position above the site, and the two shuttles meanwhile decelerated until they were thirty klicks out from the target, codenamed Dark Base. At that point Robert switched to the lagged video feed of the lead Dragonfly to watch it perform a flyover. An orbiting telemetry drone had previously returned images of what indeed looked like a shipyard, with a half-built vessel currently under construction. The ship design was unfamiliar, with a hull that undulated as if alive; Maxwell had extrapolated from the existing footage and postulated that it was a Raakarr dart ship. Though the AI could not explain the living hull.

The video Robert received at that moment from the Dragonfly confirmed the initial sighting. And just like in the original video, the outer hull seemed strangely alive, gyrating and undulating as if some living thing swarmed the surface.

“Maxwell,” Robert said. “Get Dragonfly 3 to hover near the top part of the ship. Have it keep its distance, though. Fly no closer than an altitude of one klick. If there’s any sign of attack, or anything approaches from below, have it pull back immediately.”

“Yes, Commander,” Maxwell said.

The Dragonfly approached. As it neared the requested position, Robert zoomed in on the hull.

“That’s good, Maxwell,” Robert said. “No closer.”

He studied the feed and realized immediately what caused the hull to undulate like that: small, crablike robots swarmed over the inside and outside of the ship. Robert’s first inclination was to call them nanobots, but that wasn’t entirely correct, as the things were only a little smaller than the size of his hand, judging from the scale reported by his aReal.

“Are you seeing this, Miko?” Robert asked. 

“I am.”

“Maxwell,” Robert said. “Have the Dragonfly sweep its camera over the site. I want to see what kind of specializations those microbots are involved in. If any.”

As the Dragonfly slowly tilted the camera over the site, Robert had a better picture of how the microbots worked together. They resided side-by-side, forming long lines from the surface of the moon to the uncompleted upper decks of the ship. In mines dug into the moon’s surface, sappers delved small pieces of rock from exposed minerals and passed them to conveyor bots behind them, which in turn passed them on to other conveyors, and so on; the pieces rapidly moved up the hull in that manner, until reaching the top, where more microbots waited to meld the provided raw materials into the ship. Taken as a whole, the microbots were basically a massive 3D printer that used the surrounding surface of the moon as its building blocks.

It was an ingenious use of technology, something at least a few years ahead of what the United Systems had. Humanity partially produced their own starships with specialized 3D printers, though on a component by component basis, with individually printed parts joined together by larger robots. Humanity couldn’t 3D-print everything as a single unit like the Raakarr were doing, because humans didn’t have the miniaturized technology necessary to create the heavier elements used by starships. And of course there was currently no way to synthesize the geronium used by the reactors that powered said ships.

Robert suspected the Raakarr utilized an alternate fuel source for their reactors. Something that could be readily created out of the lighter elements found on that moon.

“There definitely appear to be specializations,” Maxwell said.

“Yes,” Robert said. “I’ve picked out sappers, conveyors, and welders so far.”

“Interesting terminology,” Maxwell said. “But apt enough. I will group all of those in the ‘builder’ category. But you’ll notice there are others, who I will call ‘salvagers’ for lack of a better term. These latter move throughout the ranks, collecting the spent shells of those microbots that have malfunctioned or deactivated, and return them to a smelting area to be melted down and built anew.”

“The United Systems would kill for ship-building technology like this,” Robert said.
If we could solve the geronium problem, anyway.

“I get the feeling you’re not going to be unloading the Centurions from those shuttles onto the surface any time soon,” Miko said.

“No,” Robert agreed. “I want everyone to stay airborne. Just imagine how easily those microbots could swarm over our units if they touched down. They obviously have the tools to build things. I’m guessing those same tools could be used for dismantling purposes as well.”

“I did mention the salvagers,” Maxwell intoned. “If anything could dismantle our Centurions, it is them.”

“Right,” Robert said.

“I suggest we raze the place from orbit,” Maxwell added. “Sequential laser bombardments fired non-stop from both the
Callaway
and
Dagger
over a period of two hours, with each ship pausing only to recharge to fifty percent between shots.”

“I’m of a like mind,” Robert agreed. “But first I want to collect a few of those microbots for study. There is a containment unit available on the Dragonflies?”

“There is,” Maxwell said. “Both shuttles harbor a sample collection box measuring half a meter on all sides. It is made of a high-grade polycarbonate and steel composite.”

Robert pressed his palms together. “Good. Dispatch Dragonfly 3 to within ten meters of the ship, then lower a Centurion on one of the carbon fiber tethers to collect a few of those microbots.”

“The chosen Centurion, Unit C, asks how you wish it to collect said microbots,” Maxwell replied. “Should Unit C simply pick them up?”

Robert shrugged. “If Unit C thinks he can move fast enough, that’s fine with me. All we need are two of them. And they don’t necessarily need to be in working order, if you catch my drift.”

“I think I do, sir,” Maxwell said.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Robert said. “I don’t want the Centurion smashing them to bits before it loads up the microbots.”

“Not at all,” Maxwell said. “Unit C will treat them with the utmost delicacy.”

Somehow, Robert didn’t believe the AI. But he preferred that the Centurion in question took whatever precautions it deemed necessary, and if that meant destroying the microbots before collection, then so be it.

As Dragonfly 3 maneuvered into position above the alien ship, Robert tapped into the designated Centurion’s video feed so he could observe the operation unfold. It was the second best thing to actually being there. The only downside was the lag.

Unit C retrieved the collection box from the storage area and then approached the aft portion of the shuttle. It secured the carbon-fiber tether to its combat harness, and affixed powerful demolition charges to its torso, in case Unit C needed to prevent its tech from falling into enemy hands.

The other combat robots gave a farewell salute of sorts—camaraderie ran deep in the AI corps—and then the ramp opened. There was no explosive decompression as the cabin wasn’t oxygenated. Unit C approached the edge and leaped out.

The robot hovered above the construction and descended as the tether slowly lowered.

The Centurion tilted its body and folded its legs backward so that its lower arms were closest to the alien vessel.

It approached a relatively flat section, then lowered the open end of the container toward four of the closely-packed worker microbots. The things seemed oblivious to Unit C’s presence.

The Centurion abruptly slammed the open container down onto the hull, trapping all four microbots.

The surrounding automatons instantly swarmed onto Unit C. Robert’s camera feed became black.

“Cut the tether and pull up!” Robert said.

He switched to the viewpoint of Dragonfly 4 and watched as Dragonfly 3 scooted skyward. The shuttle had already disconnected the tether, and Unit C was lost to the swarming mass below.

A moment later there was an explosion as Unit C’s charges activated. Either Unit C had done that itself, or the Praetor in command of the unit had remotely detonated them.

“Dragonfly 3 is taking fire,” Ensign Lewis said. “There appears to be an infrared laser of some kind defending the shipyard.”

“I’ve pinpointed its location,” Maxwell said.

“Have the Raptor take it out,” Robert said.

A flash appeared from the surface.

“Done,” Maxwell replied.

“It’s too late for Dragonfly 3,” Lewis said. “The craft is quickly losing altitude.”

“Have them land as far away from the shipyard as possible,” Robert said. “And I want Dragonfly 4 to prepare for a retrieval operation.”

“I wonder why they took so long to fire upon us,” Miko said.

Robert glanced at his first officer. “Apparently they only considered us a threat after we attempted to capture some of them.”

“Dragonfly 3 just crashed into the surface,” Lewis said. “About half a kilometer east of the shipyard.”

“Get Dragonfly 4 in there,” Robert told Maxwell.

“It’s too late,” Lewis said. “The microbots must have followed its descent. They’re already swarming the crash site.”

Watching from Dragonfly 4’s point of view, Robert saw that a long stream of the things were marching from the shipyard toward the downed shuttle.

“Damn it,” Robert said. “Maxwell, have the Raptor shoot those things off of it.”

Groups of microbots dropped away from the hull of Dragonfly 3 as the invisible laser struck in turns, but always five more of the tiny robots were there to replace every one that fell.

“There are too many of them,” Maxwell said. “Would you like Raptor 1 to expend its complement of Hellfires to prevent our technology from falling into alien hands?”

Robert hesitated. Perhaps some of the combat robots would be able to fight their way clear. He hated to waste such expensive technology. Plus, the Centurions were sentient, possessing self-aware AIs. Ordering their destruction would be almost the same as commanding the execution of human beings.

The rear ramp of the shuttle dropped open. Centurions emerged, blasting with their laser rifles. They were quickly overwhelmed and began to fall as pieces of their bodies were chewed away. One of them apparently malfunctioned and fired at a nearby engulfed companion. No, it wasn’t a malfunction, Robert realized. But an act of mercy.

“Commander?” Maxwell pressed.

“Destroy them,” Robert said sadly.

The Hellfire missiles struck a moment later. The debris cloud quickly settled due to the lack of atmosphere, and all that was left of the Dragonfly, Centurions, and their microbot assailants was a large crater. The long line of microbots turned back from the edge of that crater to return to the construction site.

BOOK: Cradle of War (A Captain's Crucible Book 3)
8.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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