DOWN THE WELLES
or
Deep in a hole...
- XVI -
"Miakr, Niedrsha, wake up." Jietlshaiepr shook the bridge
crew awake. "Rendezvous: Star Rider has been standing off the
Kivas for six minutes. That's just enough for them to find the
booby trap in the magazines.
"Gresha, are you ready?" she asked.
"High explosive rounds loaded in the dorsal turret, nuclear
in the ventral. When we're ready we flip and fire."
"Miakr, what altitude are they at?"
"The three are at one hundred seventy kilometers, the other
two are at twenty nine thousand: synchronous orbit."
"Gresha, fire one missile at each of the low targets. Just
one missile at a time. Get across to them we're running out."
"Firing!"
The first missile rose to fifty kilometers before the enemy
lasers blew it to shreds.
The second was blown apart at one hundred twenty kilometers.
The third hit.
"Out gassing, looks like we hit a fuel tank." sighed Miakr.
"Gresha, fire one round at each of the ships's we didn't
hit. Leave the other alone."
"Firing!"
The SDBs sidestepped the missiles and blasted them from the
sky with their lasers.
"All right, Gresha one more shot at the leading one and
that's it."
"Firing!"
The missile lifted clear of the atmosphere and hit the
leader.
Miakr studied the read out, "Can't read any damage... We
connected though... Hold on... Here they come! One hundred
sixty kilometers and descending. They'll start re-entry in
thirty seconds.
"Niedrsha, surface! Laser turrets, fire when breach."
The Flamboyant rose and broke the surface in the dark night.
Six 250 megawatt X-ray lasers struck out into the blackness.
Three fireballs streaking through the upper atmosphere could not
evade.
"We hit two of them, I can't read any thing definite."
growled Miakr.
"Maintain fire! Hit 'em while their burning!"
The lasers hummed, sending streams of high energy photons into
into the night.
"We've hit them a few times." strained Miakr, "I can't see a
damn thing... They're coming out of re-entry. Altitude one
hundred ten kilometers."
"Dive! Dive! Take us down, Niedrsha! One hundred meters!"
Flamboyant went under shaking from the blasts as the surface
was pummeled with visible light lasers and high explosive
missiles.
"Are you sure it's a good idea to DRAW their attention?"
asked Miakr incredulously.
"Better their's than Star Rider's."
"Point taken."
The surface of the water glowed bright white as the lasers
of the three SDBs tried vainly to reach the Flamboyant. The
power diffused too rapidly through the ocean water.
"We loose a flight of nuclear missiles when they're at five
kilometers. Power down all unnecessary systems. Prepare for
fission blast."
"Five minutes forty till firing..." called off Miakr.
"Altitude: ninety five kilometers..."
Shtam cut power to general systems and rigged the current
grounds to the engine capacitors. The electromagnetic pulse
picked up by the ship's electronics would be channeled into the
power plant restart system. This should avoid most of the damage
and shorts triggered by the atomic fission blast. The computer,
power and other vital systems would be triggered to shut down
after the missiles fired.
In advance the systems were pre-checked for emergency
restart.
Miakr read, "Twenty seconds to fire... Altitude ten
kilometers..."
"Invert the ship." ordered Jietlshaiepr. "Everyone strap
in. We'll lose artificial gravity when we cut power."
Miakr counted the range, "Ten seconds... Seven
kilometers... Five... Four..... Two... One... Fire!"
Three fission warheads left the missile racks of the
darkening Flamboyant.
The missiles rose at eight G's for seven seconds. Streaking
into the night and into the heart of the SDB formation.
- XVII -
The dawn was just breaking over the ocean. Clouds streaked
across the deep bluish black of the horizon. Suddenly, three
suns came up briefly burning into the sky, mountains of electric
fire. The thunder went far and deep across the surface of
Welles.
- XVIII -
Three SDBs spun wildly out of control caught off guard by a
nuclear blast. Two of them fell uncontrollably and smashed into
the sea disintegrating on the surface.
The third and farthest from the blast spiraled away flaming
as her blasted fuel tanks gave up their hydrogen blood. She came
spinning down, loosing power as her power plant strangled itself.
The pilot, surrounded by the corpses of the rest of the
bridge crew, pulled up. The power was fading fast. The nose
stayed up but the drives were failing. Descending fast, the ship
came down and skimmed the surface headed for shore. The inertial
compensators failed he strapped himself in and waited for the
shock of impact. Ground effect kept her aloft for a few hundred
meters then she hit: stern first.
She plowed through the water to a stop. Quickly, the
cracked fuel tanks filled with water: hydrogen for the fusion
plant. But the tortured power plant had suffered enough. It grew
cold in its innards and refused to restart.
The fuel tanks leaked, flooding the engine room and aft
sections. The deck tilted as the stern went down.
The pilot got up and struggled to the air lock: unmovable
with the power shut down. Quickly, he grabbed a survival kit and
fired the explosive bolts of the windscreen.
He climbed painfully out onto the nose of the SDB, inflated
the raft, and flung it and himself into the water.
- XIX -
Flamboyant's power came back quickly.
"Good work, Shtam. All stations report in!" called
Jietlshaiepr.
Calls came in from all over the ship.
"Computer operational! Sensors... noisy, but operational!"
"Helm answering!"
"Engine room, all drives check!"
"Dorsal missile turret check!"
"Ventral missile turret check!"
"Starboard laser turret check!"
"Port laser turret check!"
"We were very lucky..." sighed Jietlshaiepr. "Miakr, where is
the Star Rider?"
Miakr's eyes grew wide, "She's coming right at us!"
A blast of heavy meson fire exploded through the water.
"VIEPCHAKLVA!" Jietlshaiepr screamed. "Shtam! Detonate the
plant! NOW!"
The Kivas power plant suddenly activated and ran up to full
power. The electromagnetic plasma bottle drew the full power of
the fusion plant containing the plasma even tighter inducing more
fusion reactions in the hydrogen plasma. The increased power was
fed into the plasma bottle drawing the plasma even tighter
increasing power in a geometric progression...
1..2..4..8..16..32..64..128..256..512..1024..2048..4096..8192..
16384..32768..65536..131072..262144..524288..1048576..2097152..
The dawn sky flared with a blinding fusion flash for a
second which broke the Star Rider's back. Molten pieces of the
pirate ship blossomed into space, flaring and burning as they hit
the atmosphere or freezing as they drifted into interplanetary
space.
- XX -
An hour later, the main bridge crew was sleeping off the
battle. Taek Kfoks turned away from the sensors and back to the
helm. "I guess they were right. The two SDBs haven't moved from
orbit. They're just sitting there. There's nowhere they can go:
they aren't jump capable, and they don't want to take us on.
They'll just have to wait it out."
"And we're trapped down here!" snarled Tuerz.
Kfoks nodded calmly, "True, if we took off, we'd never make
jump before they'd be shaking us in their jaws. Their detectors
can pick up a one gigawatt fusion plant. We'd have to run power
up to a minimum of that to get this ship to move. The fighters
and the Gig could move, but where would you go on this planet?"
"Grrrraaph. I'd like to saw their fingers off one by one.
Taek, I can't stand this waiting! I've got to kill someone.
Maybe Stuzzel..."
Long used to his excitable friend's nervous murderousness,
Kfoks responded quietly and calmly, "No, don't kill him. We need
him. We're in too much of a jam for you to have fun with him."
"But one day, you'll let me kill him won't you?"
"Sure, if it comes to that, but I hope you'll get a chance
to get one of the enemy. There's a mercenary company on this
planet, probably with connections to the pirates. If we can
catch..."
"Interrogate!" grinned Tuerz.
"Yes." nodded Kfoks.
"Torture..." sighed Tuerz.
"Yes." nodded Kfoks.
Tuerz went into a silent reverie contemplating the
interrogation of a captured mercenary.
Kfoks sighed inwardly. Tuerz was getting close to panic
with pressure and inaction. It was fortunate that he enjoyed his
fantasies enough to take away the panic, but Tuerz blood lust
was up now. At least it had been channeled towards the enemy.
Left to himself, Tuerz could be a danger to almost everyone.
- XXI -
Jietlshaiepr sat yawning and sipping her morning tea in sick
bay listening to the grateful Droyne captain explain their story.
They got through the shredded galanglic slowly with the help of the
other Droyne:
They were a trade convoy out of Tesser, a large population
planet in the Consulate, headed back from a tour of the systems
around the sector that had Droyne inhabitants. They jumped to
Welles for fuel. The planet's inhabitants were having big
trouble. A strange plague which only killed certain human
genotypes and an apparently high tech mercenary company involved
in slaving on the low tech planet.
The League of Suns had sent an expedition to find out about
all the trouble and they had apparently cured the disease.
The Droyne got their fuel and were heading out when BANG!
They had been rather well armed because of the mounting
piracy in the sector. Thus they carried a six Droyne team of
drop troops.
Yes, actually, they had heard of Dr. Malenkoviepr. Born on
Tesser, fully integrated into Droyne society and understanding.
Never met him, but understand he's quite intelligent for a human
with their strange ways...
- XXII -
Shtam took the Gig's controls and dropped away from the
submerged Flamboyant.
"Go five kilometers south and surface." ordered
Jietlshaiepr. "We'll transmit the signal: 'Stat Code Blue'.
That'll bring Lt. Jones to the rendezvous point."
Kfoks began checking over his huge armored tilly. "We'd
better be ready. If Dragoon is typical of them they might try to
commandeer the Flamboyant."
"I'd like to see them try." laughed Gresha stroking the side
of the tilly with the armored gloves of her battle dress.
Jietlshaiepr shook her head and checked her fusion gun,
"They just better not. We've got enough troubles as it is."
"They obviously need help or they would not have requested
this meeting." observed Vole. "It is not beyond human capacity
to take what they need."
- XXIII -
Vole stalked through the underbrush of the prairie towards
the grounded Air/Raft, pausing to examine the territory for signs
of travel.
An animal had passed through the underbrush three hours ago,
large, approximately one hundred twenty kilograms, hooves with
three divisions, probably a herbivore, the tracks indicated a
foot built for agility or climbing, not clawing or a weapon.
Herbivores could be dangerous, but probably not to as well armed
a party as Flamboyant's crew.
At six hundred meters, Vole flicked on his telescopic vision
from concealment in the grasses. Two figures in battle dress,
two in combat armor, Imperial model battle dress with League of
suns emblems. The figures in battle dress were carrying gauss
rifles and one was carrying a large primitive plasma gun: almost
assuredly a PGMP-12. The two in combat armor were unarmed, but
laser rifles were nearby. Three of the reception committee had
their helmets open and appeared to be women. The fourth, in
combat armor, had the helmet fastened.
Vole crept closer and began to scan for neural activity. At
five hundred meters the neural activity sensor picked up the
committee. A bit weak for four, but there were no other large
life forms in range.
At three hundred meters Vole could advance no further
without being seen, and he began to circle the Air/Raft to cover
the entire area with his NAS. It didn't take long to discover
the area was clean of ambushers. It did take a longer time to
resolve the psionic emanations of the Air/Raft crew. There were
only two sources of neural activity.
- XXIV -
The radio sang out as the Gig landed. "Surgeon Lt. Jones
here, Flamboyant Gig, do ya hove any males aboard?"
Jietlshaiepr, took the radio confused, "Affirmative, Jones."
"There's a bioagent loose on the planet: lethal te ninety
two percent o' human males exposed an' point six percent o'
females. All humans must wear protective clothing. I hove a
serum which hos so far proven effective, bu' only as a vaccine.
It doesn'a cure victims, but can provides inoculation."
"Thank you for the warning."
The cargo lift dropped to the ground lowering Kfoks in the
Tilly while Jietlshaiepr and Gresha flew out on their grav belts.
Shtam climbed down the landing ladder.
Jones stepped up, unarmed, presenting himself and opening
the helmet of his combat armor, and bowed in imitation of Zhodani
fashion.
"Not bad looking," thought Jietlshaiepr to herself as she
nodded acknowledging him (nobles don't bow), "If only he were
Zhodani height..."
Vole sounded on a private radio circuit, "Watch him, he's
psi-shielded."
"Surgeon Lt. Jones." he said by way of introduction. "Allow
me te welcome ya te Welles."
Shtam, picking up the role of lieutenant made the
introductions, "Allow me to introduce our exalted captain: in
your terms the Lt. Dame Jietlshaiepr." the title was redundant,
but it would reinforce Jietlshaiepr as an authority figure.
"Force leader Taek Kfoks..." he gestured to the huge form of
Kfoks in the tilly. Kfoks turned the head of the tilly to focus
on Jones as though unintentionally bringing the tilly's laser
welder, gauss rifle, RAM auto grenade launcher and fusion gun to
bear on Jones head.
"First Lt. Gresha..." Gresha nodded to Jones and shouldered
her own fusion gun.
"And I am Shtam." he bowed, ill concealing the gauss rifle
strapped to his back.
The private frequency sounded with Shtam's voice. "The two
officers are carrying concealable submachine guns: those
featureless black boxes on their belts."
Jones introduced his party. The woman in combat armor was
Surgeon Ens. Smith who Vole cautioned was also psi-shielded,
while the two League marines in battle dress were Cpl. Delt and
Pvt. Walker. Walker carried what was definitely a PGMP-12 of
League manufacture.
"How many humans in yer crew captain?" asked Jones, "I've
got te give ya sufficient vaccine fer ya an' yer crew."
"We have five humans aboard." stated Jietlshaiepr. "I
require an additional dose to examine myself, along with a sample
of the bioagent."
"Agreed, I thought ya'd want a sample. I hove six doses
here yer free to examine. The virus is possibly type 9 or A
selective: It reads human genetic material an' kills unless
certain genes are present. It's usually a race specific disease,
bu' in this case, it's also a sex specific one."
"What genetic structure does it attack?"
Jones put on an authoritative air, "Ah, it combines with
skin pigmentation genes on the DNA strand. Whar certain genes
are present, the DNA's modified so that in the normal protein
synthesis process, whar the cell would ordinarily produce
pigment, the cell produces toxic combinations of amino acids.
"However in women," he continued, "the gene sites appear to
be affected differently: the toxins created merely result in
sterility."
"And what type of vaccine have you against this virus?"
sighed Jietlshaiepr trying to sound unimpressed.
Jones shifted his weight from one foot to the other, "The
serum is a standard one with little modification. It actually is
a serum we use to correct genetic diseases an' birth defects by
restructuring the DNA to the normal pattern."
"WHICH normal pattern? There are many. As many as there
are human races."
"Ah, yea..." stumbled Jones. "Actually we originally
developed this stuff from work done in the Dynchia Commita, so I
presume it's their 'normal' genetic pattern."
"So you don't mind your children having a mane, fangs and
six fingers: very liberal of you Lt. Jones."
Jones laughed, "Ah, my own gametes are in a sperm bank
somewhere back home. The League wouldn'a dare lose these hands."
Ensign Smith interjected, "It should correct defects, not
traits."
"I would presume that the Dynchia would regard traits such
as having only five fingers defective." observed Jietlshaiepr.
"I concur." interjected Jones, "But, we've modified it fer
our own uses. An' anyway, there's a mixture o' just about every
human race in the League, even Zhodani. I'd assume it won't
radically change yer crew's genetic structure, Cap'n
Jietlshaiepr. If that's what ya fear, I'd suggest that ya put
samples of yer own crew's gametes in cold storage."
"I shall have to investigate what genetic structures it does
effect before deciding wither or not to use it. There probably
are less drastic ways of dealing with this than your serum, but
the availability of such medications is not immediate.
"What do you know about non humans? Are any other species
affected by the disease?"
"Not that we know of." Commented Smith, "There're a few
Aslani an' Vargr on Welles but they've not been affected.
"By the way," she continued with one eyebrow raised, "I
couldn'a help noticing that yer're flying an Imperial built Gig,
like one from a Gazelle class close escort..."
"The Flamboyant is from the Fiery sub-class of the Gazelle."
corrected Kfoks, "Gazelle class escorts are not streamlined, and
can not enter atmospheres."
"An ex-corsair, captured by my crew." explained
Jietlshaiepr, "Probably from this very same pirate band."
"Ahh, then you are Not Zhodani navy." observed Smith. "An'
Zhodani military wouldn't carry Vargr troops either."
"Not necessarily." she admitted, and changed the subject.
"Lt. Jones, you asked us here for a meeting. What is it you
wish?"
"Ah, partly te congratulate you on yer actions an' escape,
an' partly to osk yer assistance. With the Spindleman out o'
action, there's a limit to what we can do here. Whot exactly is
the situation in orbit?"
"Star Rider vaporized, taking most of her attack craft with
her. There are still two SDBs in orbit watching the Flamboyant.
There may yet be a Fanzheinz class trader out there.
"As for the Spindleman, the last we saw on our instruments
it was heading for a bail out."
"They're alive?"
"It would seem so, they had partially recovered power. That
was the last I heard of them. We presumed you would have
arranged their pick up."
Jones hit his radio circuit. "Recon one, go to five
kilometers altitude and scan. Report any re-entrys or homing
beacons."
Vole came over the radio, "I can make out a military recon
robot climbing. Distance: one point six kilometers."
"Exactly what is the disposition of the enemy encampment you
mentioned?" asked Jietlshaiepr.
Corporal Delt stepped forward eyeing the Flamboyant's crew
with a degree of distrust. "Me an' Walker made a recon sweep out
on the island they hold. Got in pretty close: managed ta get a
pretty good look. They got two four hundred ton fat traders in
camouflage, three 'eavy artillery platforms, two G-carriers, an'
an Air/Roft. I guess their strength's about a company: about A
hundred an' twenty."
"They appear te be on a slave taking mission." interjected
Jones. "The population of several small towns hove vanished."
"I would estimate that the two traders could lift the
company an' equipment, but not with any cargo of slaves."
"Yeah," agreed Delt. "They got a crater fenced off: looks
like it was blasted wi' artillery: prob'ly where they keep
pris'ners. We tried gettin' in closer bu' they saw us. We took
fire, woulda been hit if they'da used bullets. They splattered
us wi' tranq rounds. We took off an' our 'bots covered us. Took
'em a while ta get anything heavy on us, bu' they opened up wi' a
light assault gun an' that damaged the 'bots some."
The recon robot came over the radio, "Have found three re-
entry traces and one auto-distress signal."
Jones looked confused, "Coming from the re-entry?"
"Negative, out at sea: bearing: one hundred four degrees,
range: seven hundred forty kilometers approximate. Also picking
up three craft moving to intercept re-entrys and distress signal."
"Identify craft."
"Craft moving to intercept re-entry tracks are two G-carriers.
Craft moving to intercept distress signal is one Air/Raft."
Jietlshaiepr thought out loud, "We downed about five
SDBs..."
"Then this'd be our chance te get a prisoner." concluded
Smith.
- XXV -
The plan formed quickly. Cpl. Delt took the Air/Raft and
recon robot after the freefalling Spindleman's crew. They would
be able to pick up two before the G-carriers got there. A guard
robot would take care of the third crew member. Meanwhile, there
was the distress signal to answer...
- XXVI -
The Gig raced over the surface of Welles under Shtam's
careful piloting.
Ens. Smith sat tensely as she related Welles culture, "The
planet 'ad a feudal system set up about a hundred years ago when
the free trader Warsaw set down. They hod jump drive trouble:
they couldn'a make jump an' couldn'a repair it.
"The Warsaw's captain usurped the government in an attempt
te get 'is ship repaired, bu' the power struggle took a while an'
when they hod the means to leave they didn'a want to: they'd
conquered the whole bloody planet.
"Not all Welles nobles accepted the usurper, bu' the crew
were pretty innovative; managed te take the ship's cargo of grav
modules an' build whot are essentially: grav powered ironclads.
With air power, the crew managed te make the claim te the throne
stick. Actually, it's not a throne: the Warsaw's now the palace
of the government so it's the command chair. The ship can'na
take off, bu' it's still operational. The fusion plant powers
the main city around the starport.
"The position of captain's hereditary. The current captain:
Captain Billy the Third is'na able te 'andle the responsibility.
'e locked himself in the Warsaw until we arrived te avoid the
plague. Maybe it saved 'is life, but with no government the
whole planet's in turmoil: totally unable to 'andle the slavers.
"Most of their grav ironclads are out of commission, not
because they've engaged the mercenaries, other than a few minor
skirmishes, bu' because nearly half their crews are dead from the
bioagent."
Kfoks cocked his ears, "Is there any organization still
intact among the natives?"
Smith took a deep breath, "Well, their navy still hos a few
ships operational: four or five aerial ironclads, no' counting
what surface ships they have left. They lost most or all o'
their dirigibles an' surface ships when the crews caught the
plague: just couldn'a handle the ship when bad weather caught
'em. The ironclads had the speed to make it back te base before
the crews died.
"They've got one large aerial ironclad an' several smaller
ones. Their admiral's kept their flagship going by transferring
crews: the Pasadena. I tell you, they're the weirdest looking
things I've ever seen: grav technology with steam engine
propellers and cannons."
Kfoks regarded her closely, "What's the population of this
planet?"
Smith took a deep breath and closed her eyes, "Two months
ago, it were seven million, eight hundred thousand people."
images of the last two weeks of death passed over her face. "We
estimate... three an' a half million dead."
Stay Tunaed folx!