him sharply. “You’re telling me they are already inside a one-second warning
radius?”
“It’s hard to be precise with presumptive date, but I would say they are down to about
zero point six nine seconds—”
“Welter, fire! Fire everything!”
The station shuddered slightly, as everyone let loose with what little we had. They
were coming in hard and fast, whoever they were. I’d almost blown it, assuming we
had more time.
The battle was a strange one. I felt like a carrier captain in the old days, stuck
with only primitive detection equipment and radio transmissions from direct observers.
It was hard to sit there with one elbow on a broken console clenching my teeth until
my jaws ached.
“I think those are impact explosions. They must be. Got one, no three now, Kyle.” The voice was Sandra’s and she sounded excited.
I had her gunning one of the batteries. Everyone was manning something.
I continued listening. Only Welter and I were on the bridge itself to coordinate.
“I got one, down on the lower edge of my field of fire. They are moving now, repositioning.
My shots are going wide at this point.”
I banged my gauntlet on a broken brainbox. It dented in and a puff of dead gray nanite
dust shot up from it.
“Talk to me people, how many do we still have out there? Are they returning fire yet?
“I don’t think so,” said Sergeant Sanchez, my gunner with the most experience of the
survivors. They are just taking it. Seems odd.”
Everything about this situation seemed odd to me. “Sergeant, give me a count please,
between volleys.”
There was a several second wait, which seemed interminable to me. Finally, he reported
back. “We got seven of them, sir. And I think the other battery did about the same.
If I had to guess, I’d say eight vessels got past us.”
“What do you mean got past you ? Where are they? Have they swung around the station?”
“No sir, they should be reaching the outer hull about now.”
Then I heard booming sounds, impacts that resonated through the station. These weren’t
the loud, smashing sounds of projectiles hitting the station, hammering it. Instead,
they were the sounds of landing craft adhering to the hull.
“Batteries one and two, do you have any targets at this point?”
“No sir. We can’t even see them. They are too low for our turrets.”
“Get out of the battery, then. You’re a target now. Retreat to the inner core of the
station. We’ll fight it out bulkhead-to-bulkhead.”
I waved to Welter and he reluctantly unlimbered his heavy beamer again. I could tell
he preferred Fleet ops. Blasting things at a great distance in space appealed to him,
and he clearly wasn’t happy.
I, on the other hand, was smiling. It would be good to burn some of these invaders
personally. I’d not gotten enough of that particular thrill lately.
We clanked out into the passages and gathered up into a good-sized squad. With Marvin
bringing up the rear, we looked rather formidable. Marvin was in his full battlegear,
and I must say, he looked more the part of the freak than ever. He seemed just as
eager to try out his new body parts as I was to find out what these invaders were
made of.
Marvin still looked something like Marvin: he had several whipping arms and plenty
of cameras. But beyond that, his battle persona was quite different. His head section
had been replaced with a cluster of six heavy-beam weapons, and this lower body now
rested on a sled of gravity repellers. He floated about a foot above the corridor
and anything he ran over that could be crushed down, was crushed down. I made sure
I kept my boots out from under him. With all the extra generators and weaponry, he
was as heavy as a small tank. Above all his new armament, his cameras whipped this
way and that excitedly.
We advanced toward the nearest enemy landing point, which was in the mid-section of
the station. Again, they were going
radius?”
“It’s hard to be precise with presumptive date, but I would say they are down to about
zero point six nine seconds—”
“Welter, fire! Fire everything!”
The station shuddered slightly, as everyone let loose with what little we had. They
were coming in hard and fast, whoever they were. I’d almost blown it, assuming we
had more time.
The battle was a strange one. I felt like a carrier captain in the old days, stuck
with only primitive detection equipment and radio transmissions from direct observers.
It was hard to sit there with one elbow on a broken console clenching my teeth until
my jaws ached.
“I think those are impact explosions. They must be. Got one, no three now, Kyle.” The voice was Sandra’s and she sounded excited.
I had her gunning one of the batteries. Everyone was manning something.
I continued listening. Only Welter and I were on the bridge itself to coordinate.
“I got one, down on the lower edge of my field of fire. They are moving now, repositioning.
My shots are going wide at this point.”
I banged my gauntlet on a broken brainbox. It dented in and a puff of dead gray nanite
dust shot up from it.
“Talk to me people, how many do we still have out there? Are they returning fire yet?
“I don’t think so,” said Sergeant Sanchez, my gunner with the most experience of the
survivors. They are just taking it. Seems odd.”
Everything about this situation seemed odd to me. “Sergeant, give me a count please,
between volleys.”
There was a several second wait, which seemed interminable to me. Finally, he reported
back. “We got seven of them, sir. And I think the other battery did about the same.
If I had to guess, I’d say eight vessels got past us.”
“What do you mean got past you ? Where are they? Have they swung around the station?”
“No sir, they should be reaching the outer hull about now.”
Then I heard booming sounds, impacts that resonated through the station. These weren’t
the loud, smashing sounds of projectiles hitting the station, hammering it. Instead,
they were the sounds of landing craft adhering to the hull.
“Batteries one and two, do you have any targets at this point?”
“No sir. We can’t even see them. They are too low for our turrets.”
“Get out of the battery, then. You’re a target now. Retreat to the inner core of the
station. We’ll fight it out bulkhead-to-bulkhead.”
I waved to Welter and he reluctantly unlimbered his heavy beamer again. I could tell
he preferred Fleet ops. Blasting things at a great distance in space appealed to him,
and he clearly wasn’t happy.
I, on the other hand, was smiling. It would be good to burn some of these invaders
personally. I’d not gotten enough of that particular thrill lately.
We clanked out into the passages and gathered up into a good-sized squad. With Marvin
bringing up the rear, we looked rather formidable. Marvin was in his full battlegear,
and I must say, he looked more the part of the freak than ever. He seemed just as
eager to try out his new body parts as I was to find out what these invaders were
made of.
Marvin still looked something like Marvin: he had several whipping arms and plenty
of cameras. But beyond that, his battle persona was quite different. His head section
had been replaced with a cluster of six heavy-beam weapons, and this lower body now
rested on a sled of gravity repellers. He floated about a foot above the corridor
and anything he ran over that could be crushed down, was crushed down. I made sure
I kept my boots out from under him. With all the extra generators and weaponry, he
was as heavy as a small tank. Above all his new armament, his cameras whipped this
way and that excitedly.
We advanced toward the nearest enemy landing point, which was in the mid-section of
the station. Again, they were going
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