“Any enemy!”
“Nineteen ships have been hit in the last seven minutes.”
I frowned. That sounded like a lot of hits. “By missiles or projectiles?” I asked. “Give me a breakdown.”
“Three ships were hit by missiles and sixteen by projectiles.”
I nodded, and was about to ask Alamo what it was going to do about this aggression, but there was no need. The forward screen displayed the answer clearly. The Nano ships had stopped braking. They were heading right into the enemy lines now, and they were all firing.
I felt the deck shudder and shiver under my armored butt. The ship was firing its guns, both the top and bottom turrets. I took this moment to allow myself a grim smile. The machines were destroying each other all around me. The only bad part was my own position, which was right at the center of it all.
I shrugged and drew in a deep breath. It was a small sacrifice to make if all these metal bastards destroyed one another.
— 37
The battle was-huge. I’d never been involved in an action that involved more ships. There were about three hundred Nanos, thirty-odd Macro cruisers and our own Earth fleet of about fifty vessels. Most of ours were gunships with big cannons and little else. We were by far the weakest force on the game board, except for my secret weapon: squads of assaulting marines.
The first phase of the battle was the hardest on my mind. I wanted to shout orders, to get the Nano ships to coordinate. Unfortunately, they weren’t interested in my opinions. Only Alamo listened, and hung back at the rear of the pack.
The fireworks began as the Nano ships reached maximum range and began peppering the bigger ships with laser beams. Right away, I was annoyed with their lack of command control. They didn’t all fire on a single ship and pound it until it went down. Instead, ten or so chose each front-rank cruiser and began needling it at long range. It was a losing strategy, because it gave the enemy more time to fire in return.
I couldn’t control the Nano ships. All I could do was watch. The worst part was when the Macros launched a flood of missiles. The Nanos didn’t switch targets to these incoming threats immediately. They stuck with their long-range pecking, which I knew was only scarring up the hulls of the thick-skinned cruisers. The two sides were closing in on one another, but serious damage wouldn’t be done until they got into short range. That was not true of the missiles, however. A nuclear warhead detonated with the same force, no matter how far it was from its launching ship.
I pounded deep dents into the metal arm of my command chair. Gently, the smart metal reformed itself, pushing my gauntlet back out of the way. I was raving. Only Alamo was firing on the incoming missiles. Finally, snarling, I stood up and headed to the airlock. I’d waited too long already.
I bailed out of the airlock not even allowing it to cycle the oxygen back into the ship and thus keep it for some future biotic pilot. I used the puff of gas to give me the initial shove out into space. I spun for a second or two, until I was sure I was safely away from the ship’s hull. Alamo was moving erratically, dodging incoming bolts of hot metal that moved at tremendous velocity. The enemy had started firing their big guns long ago, and although there was little chance of them scoring a hit at this range, Alamo was taking no chances.
I used my repellers to halt my spin, then rolled on my back and watched as the ship that had starred in all my nightmares shrank away to nothing. In moments, it was swallowed by blackness. I felt a mix of emotions as I watched it go. I was reminded of a time I’d sold an old car which I hated, but somehow still felt an attachment to.
The yellow star shone on my visor, splashing it with bright glaring light. I hustled, flying toward the projected path of Earth’s fleet. With luck, I’d be close enough for them to scoop me up as they joined this mess.
As I flew I had a few minutes to contemplate what I’d started. Around me, space appeared to be empty. Even more than battles at sea, battles in space were so spread out you could be in the middle of one and barely notice. But appearances were deceiving. The combat around me would determine the fate of billions.
I thought about the Centaurs in the big habitat that had sagged down to Eden-9 in a fiery heap. Quite possibly, it had been the largest single loss of life I’d ever seen. An estimated twenty million were dead-and that was only a guess. The count could have been much higher, as we’d never numbered the herds. They didn’t think in terms of individuals and body counts. They had no census data to present us with. I supposed the exact number of dead didn’t really matter. In the end, the species would live on or be snuffed out. But I was certain there were no herds to return to Eden-9 and graze upon the fine grasslands.
When I thought about the Centaurs and how I’d dragged them back into a hot war with me, it was hard not to think of the Blues as well. They were in the mud with us now. Their peace agreement, whatever it was, had to be null and void after the actions of the Nano fleet. From the point of view of the Macros, the Blues had just launched an all out attack upon them. I smiled grimly inside my helmet at the thought. They had some skin in this game now.
I felt no remorse for including them in our misery. I could have respected their desire for neutrality, if they hadn’t caused this entire conflict in the first place. I didn’t hate the Blues, but I sure didn’t want them sitting out the festivities. They were front and center now. If we lost, so did they. Earth had never asked to be dragged into an interstellar war, but if we were going down, the Blues were going down with us.
A flash darkened my visor, and my smile disappeared. I could tell it came from behind me. I began to swivel my helmet, looking back, when a dozen more violent flashes turned my visor black. I turned back and stared ahead, urging more speed from my repellers. A wave of missiles must have reached the Nano ship line. They were detonating, and probably taking Nano ships out with each blast.
I activated my com-link and tried to connect to the command channel. Up until now, I’d been on radio-blackout. There was no sense giving any of these ships a target. But now, I needed to know if I was in the right zone to be picked up.
“This is Colonel Kyle Riggs, requesting pick-up. I’ll be listening for your instructions, but will not respond. Repeat, will not respond. Ending transmission and taking evasive action…now.”
I closed the transmitting half of the channel, and immediately dodged at various angles for ten miles or so. In space, a few miles would only be a round-off error, but it might be enough to get me out of the way of a missile with an eager Macro pilot.
Less than a minute later, dispatch came on. The voice was shockingly familiar. It was Sandra. “Kyle we have you. Stay in that general vicinity, but accelerate toward the battle. You need to speed up. Right now, we’re going too fast in relative speed to pick you up. You’d splatter on our windshield like a bug.”
I felt a strong urge to reply, but resisted it. I was surprised it was Sandra running dispatch-but I shouldn’t have been. On a Star Force ship, everyone had a job to do. Sandra had only really had experience with two duties: communications and serving as my bodyguard. I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised that she’d passed on the job of protecting Jasmine.
I turned directly toward the battle and poured on the power. For several nerve-racking minutes I sped closer to the fighting ships. I knew that at any instant, something could loom up out of the darkness and end my existence. It made me squint and grit my teeth.
When the fleet finally did catch up to me, it came as a shock. I was barely aware of their approach. All I sensed was a darkening of the region of space behind me-then something struck me. My visor starred, and the generator on my back was dented inward. It stopped working, and my repellers died.