Chapter 17: Last Line of Defense

Baker and Jaeger ran into the hangar where their ships were parked, quickly donning their flight suits and helmets as the Valbarans made their way over to their camouflaged lander. By the time the two humans were climbing into their cockpits and running their engine checks, the Valbaran spaceplane was already taxiing towards the runway.

Jaeger taxied outside, his HUD flashing as it showed him the system status. The Beewolf hadn’t been refueled, but they had more than enough gas to get into orbit and to do a little fighting before they had to land again. The vectoring nozzle on the main engine flexed and twisted, thrusters rotating and belching blue flame, the ailerons moving like the vessel was stretching after a long nap. Jaeger turned his visor towards the sky, the cameras mounted all around the hull allowing him to see through it, and he watched as his ship’s computer began to track friendlies. He could see the Rorke and some of her torpedo boats, the callsigns of dozens of fighter craft and dropships twinkling to life on his display. It was a madhouse up there.

He took off in VTOL, Baker rising into the sky alongside him, his landing gear retracting with a clunk. Unlike the Valbaran landers, the Beewolfs didn’t need to use a runway. They hovered nearby, waiting as the lander began to accelerate down the asphalt track, its stubby wings catching the air and generating enough lift to get it off the ground.

Their engines flared as they began to climb, Baker and Jaeger taking up position to either side of the lander as they tailed it into the sky. They rose through the cloud layer, flames beginning to lick at Jaeger’s canopy, the blue sky growing darker as they ascended towards space.

“Comms check,” he said, “you guys picking me up?”

“Loud and clear,” Baker replied.

“We hear you,” Maza added.

As the stars began to twinkle, the battle raging above came into view. The white rings of the planetary defense platforms trailed off into the distance in both directions, circling the equator of the planet like a giant pearl necklace, their laser batteries firing at the smaller vessels that were swarming them. The sky was packed with ships, dozens of icons appearing on Jaeger’s HUD as the computer tried to track them all.

Beewolfs darted back and forth as they danced with Betelgeusian attack craft, popping flares as they dodged missiles and volleys of plasma, their angular hulls only visible when they caught the light of the star due to their stealth coating. Valbaran fighters strafed the enemy with concentrated laser fire as they flew in tight formation, coordinating to melt through the carapaces of the Bug ships, the long hulls and rotating toruses of their carriers illuminated by laser batteries as they supported their squadrons.

Torpedo frigates hung in the darkness, seeming to stand still in comparison to the more agile craft, the massive ships engaging the larger Bug vessels. Jaeger watched as a torpedo slammed into one of the smaller Betelgeusian carriers, identical to the one that he had encountered in the Oort cloud, tearing its lobster-like hull open with a burst of orange flame and sending it drifting towards the planet’s gravity well. More of those Bug carriers were attacking the nearby defense platforms, using their enormous claws to rend metal, tearing the rings of the stations apart like giant can openers.

The CIWS frigates and the Valbaran carriers were attempting to defend them, lines of tracer fire and laser beams spraying in all directions, their cannons tracking nearby fighters and intercepting plasma torpedoes. It seemed as if a few of the stations had been equipped with railguns, but not nearly as many as Campbell had intended, the majority of the batteries were still firing green laser beams.

Penguin gunships, so named for the shapes of their bulbous hulls and their stubby wings, strafed Bug carriers with their nose cannons. They peppered their armored carapaces with molten holes as more Bug fighters emerged from the pustules along their backs like flies burrowing their way out of a corpse. Valbaran landers and UNN dropships flew to and fro, carrying personnel and supplies to where they were needed, dropping troops directly onto the hulls of the defense platforms to repel boarders. There were firefights happening on the rotating rings themselves, Coalition soldiers and Valbarans with magnetic boots engaging Drones on the outer hull, fighting their own private wars. At maximum magnification, Jaeger could just make them out. Figures the size of ants exchanged fire, the dead Bugs losing their purchase and drifting into the void.

Trails from torpedoes, bright pulses of laser fire, and streams of tracer rounds lit up the night. The glowing hulls of wrecked ships floated aimlessly amidst spreading clouds of slagged metal.

“It’s a madhouse up here,” Baker said over the comms, “where’s the Rorke?”

Jaeger looked in the direction of the North pole, magnifying the image with his visor. After a moment of searching, he found her. She was belly-up relative to the battle, the dozens of railguns on flexible arms that were mounted along her underside tracking targets independently, turning the vessel into a mobile weapons platform. There was a steady stream of smaller craft heading to and from her hangars for resupply and refueling, the shimmering force fields shining blue against her ocean-grey hull. The carrier was a fair distance away, maintaining position so that the crew could coordinate with the defense platforms and carriers around the planet no doubt.

It seemed as if the hive fleet had decided to throw all of its forces at one small section of the equatorial defense array, attempting to brute force its way through. There were two hive ships, massive, nearly Rorke-sized vessels that played a similar role in the Bug armada. One of them was hovering some distance above them, raining down drop pods on the cities below, too small and too fast for the Valbaran stations to track them. The second seemed to be moving off towards the Rorke, flanked by a swarm of Bug torpedo boats and fighters. The hive ships almost looked like giant shrimps to Jaeger, massive sheets of metal plating like a suit of armor covering their hulls as an added layer of protection on top of their bony carapaces, dozens of spindly legs protruding from beneath the overlapping plates of the shell which allowed the things to land on the surface of a planet and disgorge their ground forces. There were no windows or viewports visible, the vessels were covered in biological eyes that served as cameras for the pilots. There were clusters of sensors and long antennae protruding from their bulbous hulls in every direction.

“Looks like that hive ship is going straight for the Rorke,” Jaeger warned. “I’m trying to patch through to fleetcom, but there’s so much chatter. We need to find out where they want us.”

“Heads up!” Baker shouted, pulling up sharply as a CIWS frigate rose in front of them like a whale breaching the surface of the ocean. Jaeger cursed, pulling back on his stick, his suit tightening around his legs to prevent all of his blood from pooling in his feet as the G-forces tore at him. The frigate’s grey, blocky hull shot past beneath him, point defense turrets swiveling to track the cockroach-like fighters that were chasing it. Bursts of green plasma reflected off their colorful, iridescent hulls, their jointed legs tucked beneath their bodies. They darted and weaved, the frigate rolling on its axis and spraying cannon fire as the pilot maneuvered, plowing through a field of slagged debris and scattering it as it burned away.

“Watch your fucking proximity sensors,” Baker barked, “it’s a fucking free for all.”

Fleet engagements usually happened at longer ranges than this, Baker was right, this wasn’t so much a space battle as a brawl. Collisions with other ships and debris would be as much a danger as the enemy.

“My God, look,” Jaeger gasped. One of the defense platforms some distance below them was being set upon by a Bug carrier, the behemoth using its crab-like claws to tear it apart. The spinning centrifuge that was situated on the interior of the torus-shaped structure came to a jarring halt as one of the claws closed around it, cutting through the ring like a pair of scissors, the nearby laser batteries turning their beams towards the creature in an attempt to ward it off. A nearby CIWS frigate joined the fight, the carrier’s carapace melting under the heat, railguns and cannons blowing chunks of meat and metal out of its segmented body. The thrusters along its flanks faltered, the green methane flames that they spewed sputtering out, but the damage had already been done.

The defense platform broke apart, its structural integrity compromised, one of the claws of the carrier still grasping the section of ring as it drifted out of its orbit. The two remained locked together, a cloud of debris and crystallized bodily fluids spreading as the wreckage began to tumble, a solitary fighter emerging from one of the fleshy sheaths to escape its doomed host.

“Beewolf two-zero-six and two-zero-niner, please respond.”

Finally, the voice of a fleetcom operator came through in Jaeger’s earpiece.

“This is Bullseye, receiving you loud and clear, command.”

“Nice of you to join us. Your objective is to protect the Valbaran defense platforms. Intercept incoming fighters, and prevent Bug dropships from depositing their troops on the hull. How copy?”

“Copy that, fleetcom, we’re on it.” He switched channels back to local, banking off towards the nearest station. “You get that, Baker?”

“Got it,” he replied, “I’m on your nine o’clock.”

“Maza?”

“We can’t let them take down another station,” she spat, “we’re following you in.”

“Do you have any weapons on that thing?” he asked, looking to his right as the lander took up formation beside him. As he watched, a panel on the near side of the vessel slid back like the door of a minivan, exposing a Valbaran in a space suit. She was holding what looked like a laser battery mounted on a flexible arm, thick cables trailing inside the vessel and out of view to link it to the power system, her body secured in a harness.

“We’ve got one of these,” she said, Coza’s voice coming through on the comms. Of course it was Coza...

“Alright, me and Baker and going to go after the fighters, you’d probably do better to support the troops fighting on the hull. Give them some ground support. Er ... space support. Whatever, just shoot Bugs. We’ll escort you until you’re in range.”

“Got it,” Maza said, the lander peeling off and dropping down towards one of the white rings. As the station grew larger, one of the Bug fighters that was hovering around it spotted them, changing course and rising towards the lander on a plume of green fire. Jaeger deployed his railgun, the hatch on the hull of his Beewolf opening and the weapon extending, swiveling to aim at the incoming threat as a targeting reticle appeared on his HUD. His missiles went hot, and the port that concealed his twenty-five-millimeter cannon popped open, his systems locking onto the Bug ship.

The railgun led the target, the ship’s computer calculating its trajectory, the magnetic coils glowing as it accelerated carefully-aimed slugs the size of beer bottles. The first two missed, but the third hit it right in the head, or perhaps it would be better described as the cockpit. Either way, the slug drilled into its hull right between its shimmering, compound eyes. Jaeger watched through his magnified visor as it seemed to lose engine control, and was sent spinning off into the void.

Several more of its fellows rose to meet them, each one reflecting the harsh, unfiltered sunlight in a different hue. There was a Bug carrier nearby, more of them emerging from the fleshy hangars along its lobster tail, tucking their legs beneath their armored bodies and pivoting to intercept the Beewolfs as their host made for the platform.

“Hit ‘em with the missiles!” Baker said. Jaeger locked onto several targets, thumbing the release, the tubes detaching from beneath his wings. They floated, inert for a moment, and then their guidance systems came to life. Their engines flared, leaving streaks of chemical residue behind them as they sped towards the fighters.

The Bugs loosed a volley of torpedoes, and when the two clouds of projectiles crossed one another, a few of them exploded. Balls of expanding plasma and orange plumes of fire forced Jaeger’s visor to darken to protect his eyes, his computer warning him that he was being locked. He broke formation, releasing a pattern of bright flares as the Bug torpedoes emerged from the cloud, the organic sensors on their stubby noses tracking him.

Many of them veered off course to follow the decoys, others tailing him, Jaeger’s peripheral vision narrowing as he pulled off high-G maneuvers. Several of their own missiles found their marks, thinning the numbers of the Bug squadron, shattered carapace and molten metal carried by momentum as their ruined bodies tumbled through the blackness.

Maza’s lander had neared the surface of the defense platform, Coza firing the door gun at the Bugs that were crawling across its white surface below. There were UNN Marines and Valbaran commandos defending the airlocks, preventing the Drones from overrunning the station, using the large communications arrays and other unidentifiable machinery that jutted from the hull for cover.

They were mostly standing on the outer ring, where the laser batteries and the small number of grafted railguns were mounted, the inner ring spinning like a centrifuge to make up for the lack of artificial gravity generators. It must be fucking with their heads, space combat could be so bizarre compared to fighting on the ground. The only horizon was the curving hull of the station, there was no atmospheric haze, and so objects were as clearly visible at ten feet away as a thousand. The soldiers walked slowly, ensuring that their magnetic boots had enough purchase lest they float away. In zero-G, once your feet left the deck, you were fucked. You could slowly run out of oxygen and suffocate a mere arm’s length from safety, because there was no medium to push back against or swim through in order to cover the distance.

The Bugs, on the other hand, used their clawed limbs to cling to the metal precariously. They swarmed towards the defenders with reckless abandon, those that lost their purchase and tumbled into space seeming to be considered acceptable losses. Bolts of plasma reflected on the hull as they exchanged fire with the Marines, Valbaran laser beams cutting them down in swathes, the railguns invisible at such great distance save for the enemies that they felled. The Bug assault seemed desperate, even for Betelgeusians. The fleet must be on its last legs, running out of resources and perhaps literally starving.

As Jaeger tailed a Bug fighter, his cannon chewing into it and sending it tumbling, he glanced over at the Rorke. The hive ship was bearing down on it, recognizing the UNN carrier as the linchpin of the planet’s defense, no doubt. The carrier’s array of railguns were hammering it, an unimaginable quantity of firepower brought to bear, the massive slugs digging craters in the vessel’s armor like asteroids. Torpedo tubes along its hull opened to release their payloads, and the point defense systems painted bright trails across the velvet blackness. It wasn’t enough, however. The hive ships were designed to take punishment, and as he watched, its complement of Bug torpedo ships released the projectiles that were clutched in their spindly legs. A cloud of glowing green points sped towards the Rorke, the railguns switching targets and the surrounding CIWS frigates intercepting the missiles with streams of tracer fire.

They weren’t able to intercept all of them, some of the torpedoes making it through. The carrier was usually defended by far more of the frigates, but so many of them were spread out in their defense of the platforms. Green balls of expanding plasma melted sections of the Rorke’s hull, one of the frigates taking one directly in its center of mass, its engines losing power as it began to drift towards the atmosphere of the planet. There were small bursts of flame as escape pods jettisoned, the vessel was dead in the water, an ugly tear along its hull spewing coolant like blood. It looked like the nuclear generator had taken a hit, and Jaeger hoped that the wreck wouldn’t end up landing in a Valbaran ocean or a nature preserve.

He could see the way that the superheated gas had slagged molten holes in the Rorke, exposing some of the interior decks to space. She was injured, but not crippled, her railguns continuing to pulverize the hive ship as it came into plasma cannon range and began to fire.

A volley of UNN torpedoes took out a few of the Bug support vessels, splashing against the side of the hive ship’s bony carapace, some of its massive segmented legs breaking off and parts of its metal armor melting under the heat. Jaeger turned his head to see that two torpedo frigates had changed their course, slowly accelerating as they burned towards the Rorke. Hatches on their hulls opened to release massive missiles the size of ICBMs, rising on plumes of flame before pivoting towards their targets and speeding away.

The fighters that were following the hive ship changed course, as did many of the torpedo ships, heading towards the two incoming frigates. A formation of Beewolfs raced past the larger vessels, off to intercept the attackers.

Jaeger wanted to go help, but something popped up on his HUD, a red dot making for Maza’s lander. He scarcely had a second to catch his breath, grimacing as he pulled off a tight course correction and throttled up, heading the Bug fighter off. It was entirely focused on the defense platform, and he took it out easily, railgun slugs punching smoldering holes in it. As it trailed fluid and fell towards the station, the droplets of ichor and chemical fuel freezing into a shining cloud, one of the lasers turned on it and melted it with a flickering strobe of green light. The lasers were actually very effective at warding off the fighters at close range, it was the clawed carriers that were the biggest threat.

As he swooped closer to the surface of the station, he could make out a pack of Borealan shock troopers, their massive, bayoneted rifles shouldered as they led a charge against an incoming swarm of Bugs. They dove into the fray, their six-foot railguns powerful enough to blow fist-sized holes in the carapaces of the Drones, shattered bodies floating off into the air. One of them was taken out by a hulking Warrior, the armored creature using its claws to dismember the alien. The monsters were eight or nine feet tall and built like organic tanks, their bodies shielded by thick, layered shells that ran down their backs to give them the appearance of a bipedal lobster or an isopod. They sported four crab-like claws that could tear through the hull of a tank like it was paper.

Another Borealan was thrown flailing from the hull while its pack surrounded the Warrior and harried it with blows. Hopefully, they would be picked up when the battle was over, assuming that they didn’t crash into a ship or a piece of scrap.

Jaeger climbed, the massive station shrinking to the size of a cartwheel in seconds, Baker taking up formation beside him.

“The Rorke is taking a lot of fire,” he said over the comms channel, his voice crackling with static. “If the carrier goes down, then we’re fucked.”

Jaeger scoped in on the vessel, the hive ship was right on top of it now, firing broadsides of plasma at it. The Rorke was still belly-up, the railguns digging into the attacker’s hull. Fighters from both sides swarmed, a fireworks display of point defense and flak flashing brightly. It seemed like the UNN torpedo frigates had taken out most of their Bug equivalents, there was a veritable graveyard of burning husks floating nearby, the two vessels now turning their formidable firepower on the hive ship. The nearby defense platforms and Valbaran carriers were now directing their lasers and what railguns they could muster towards the hive ship too, the sheer volume of fire was starting to break through the organic vessel’s defenses.

Jaeger cheered as a massive explosion suddenly ripped through the hive ship, something in the aft section had ignited, the shrimp-like tail breaking clean off. It was more a wound than anything resembling damage to a ship, its metallic skeleton exposed, its living flesh charred and blackened. It spewed what must be millions of gallons of fluid, some of which was clearly chemical fuel due to the way that it was burning, smaller explosions making the remainder of its bulbous body shudder.

The Rorke had prevailed, the hive ship’s cannons ceasing their bombardment and its rows of methane thrusters going dark. It keeled over onto its side, Valbara’s gravity well seizing it, pulling it down towards the surface. Its segmented legs flailed, almost as if it was in actual pain, smaller wounds all over its hull spewing flames and shooting jets of gas.

“Fuck yeah!” Baker shouted, “look at that thing burn!”

Maza’s voice came through on the radio too, along with what sounded like her flock hollering loudly in the background.

“The enemy vessel is crippled! The battle turns in our favor!”

“Hang on,” Jaeger replied warily, “where’s the second hive ship? If it decides to engage the Rorke, I don’t know if she can take it.”

The carrier was damaged, not severely, but enough that going a second round with another hive ship was a very bad idea. It didn’t look like any of her critical systems had gone down. She had engine power, and her guns were still firing, turning their barrels towards the remaining Bug armada. Her hull was pockmarked with plasma burns, and there were several places where torpedoes had burned through several layers of armor, however. She would need weeks in drydock to recover. He could already make out dropships assessing the damage with their floodlights.

“There!” Baker said, “ninety degrees low!”

The second hive ship wasn’t engaging the Rorke at all, it was making straight for the breach in the defense grid where one of the platforms had been brought down. The lasers from the adjacent stations held on it, the nearby CWIS boats and the Valbaran vessels adding their firepower to the bombardment and melting through the layers of metal plating, but it wasn’t enough to stop it. The torpedo frigates had been duped, they had burned away to defend the Rorke. Now they launched more of their torpedoes at the second hive ship, but their reserves must be running low, and there was no way that they could deliver enough ordnance to cripple the target in time. The Rorke was too far away, and the CWIS vessels couldn’t do much to penetrate its thick carapace.

“If that ship makes landfall, it’s going to deliver a whole army of Bugs to the surface,” Jaeger warned. “There could be a hundred thousand Drones on that thing.”

“It’s headed straight for Yilgarn!” Maza added, “we have to stop it!”

“How?” Baker asked, “we don’t have enough firepower to bring that thing down.”

As they watched, the hive ship turned belly-down, flames beginning to scorch its underside as it entered the atmosphere. Jaeger was already at full throttle, pinned against his seat as he chased after it. He didn’t even have a plan yet, he didn’t know what he was going to do, but he had to figure out something. He wracked his brain, with mere seconds to come up with a strategy. What did he know about hive ships, what resources were at his disposal?

They used highly reactive methane as chemical fuel, they were coated in layers of armor so thick that no weapon in his arsenal would have any hope of penetrating it. There was no bridge in the traditional sense, and the pilot was housed deep inside the ship. They had to have a weak point, something that he could use...

“The thrusters!” Jaeger yelled.

“What are you talking about?” Baker asked. His Beewolf was a short distance behind Jaeger’s, he didn’t know what the plan was either, but he wasn’t about to leave his wingman to fend for himself. They were smaller and more agile than the hive ship, and the atmosphere was slowing it, letting them catch up.

“The thrusters along its flanks, the green flames,” Jaeger explained. “That’s how it’s slowing itself, it’s angling the thrusters down towards the planet to shed velocity.”

“So?”

“So, if we take out enough of those thrusters, it’s going to fall like a fucking rock. We don’t need to destroy the ship, we can let gravity do it for us.”

“It’s already in the atmosphere,” Baker replied. “Do you really think that we can get close enough to it, and stay stable enough for the railguns to target the thrusters, and also keep ourselves from burnin’ up? You can’t do maneuvers during reentry, you’ll tumble, and then you’ll go up like a Roman candle. There’s no algorithm for targetin’ the thrusters either, we’d have to do it manually.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“Fuck!” Baker cursed. “Alright, you take the left flank, and I’ll take the right. If hell has a fuckin’ bar, then you’re buyin’ for the rest of eternity you crazy bastard.”

“Jaeger!” Maza’s voice came in over his comms, she sounded distraught. “You can’t! It’s too dangerous!”

“We have to,” he replied solemnly, “there’s no other way.”

“But you said that you’d stay with us. We’ve only just...”

“We can do this,” he said, trying to sound confident. “If that hive ship touches down, then everything is over, I can’t let that happen. Even if ... if this goes badly ... know that I don’t have any regrets,” he said as his nose began to glow orange, flames licking at his canopy as the hive ship ballooned in his field of view. “After last night, this was all worth it. Meeting you and the others was worth it.”

He couldn’t hear her reply, her voice was choked off by interference as his airframe was buffeted by the winds. Baker was still close enough to get through to him, his short range comms fizzing and crackling to the extent that Jaeger could only just make him out.

“Great, I’m gonna die with a hangover. Try not to live up to your namesake, Bullseye, and if you die, tell Boomer that he still owes me that twenty creds.”

“See you on the other side, Baker.”

The two fighters veered off as the hive ship rose up between them like a mountain. It was massive, Jaeger had never seen one up close before, the friction that it was generating was creating a firestorm that made his visor darken to shield his eyes. He too was burning, he had to keep his nose angled down, or he might lose stability and start to tumble. If that happened, then his fighter would burn up and explode before he could so much as hit the ejector button. Not that he could eject at this altitude anyway.

He maneuvered as close as he could get, his computer beeping a warning as his hull temperature spiked. A tremor rocked his ship as he extended his airbrakes, alternating between pulsing his main engine and trying to slow his rapid descent, his flight stick vibrating in his hand as he struggled to keep his fighter on course. He deactivated the safety limiters with a voice command and retracted his radiators so that the heat didn’t melt them right off. He could no longer rely on the computer to provide flight assistance, it wasn’t designed for this. This was not how reentry was supposed to go, he was prolonging his exposure to the incredible heat and friction, he had to get this done as soon as possible.

Jaeger turned his head, his visor doing its best to filter out the orange glow of the flames, the hive ship beside him taking up his entire field of view. It was like diving next to a blue whale, how could something of this scale be alive?

There. He could see the thrusters that were spaced out along its flank, fleshy, flexible tubes that were belching jets of green fire. They were as much appendages as engines, able to flex and point in any direction, laid out in a vague S-shape along the hull. The thing’s massive legs were tucked beneath its body, protecting its belly from the heat.

He could no longer communicate with Baker over the short-range radio, not with this Kraken between them. He would have to trust that his friend would come through.

Keeping one hand on the flight stick, he took manual control of the railgun with the other, his thumb finding the small joystick on his control panel. It required a finesse that was hard to muster while his vessel was shaking apart, and he had to keep his Beewolf’s nose at about a two hundred degree angle relative to the surface of the planet. If he exposed the weapon to the heat of reentry, the mechanical arm would melt away in an instant, it was only designed to be used in a vacuum. Right now, the hull of his ship was the only thing protecting it.

The crosshair moved on his visor, and he tried to keep his head steady, even as the turbulence jostled him in his seat. It was like trying to thread a needle during an earthquake.

When the targeting reticle passed over one of the thrusters, he pulled the trigger, the railgun firing in burst mode in an attempt to make up for any inaccuracy. There was a flare of green fire, one of the thrusters erupting, popping like a blister and trailing chemical fuel that ignited into a burning stream. He had hit it! It had worked! The thrusters were volatile as all hell, they must be working overtime in an attempt to slow the hive ship’s descent.