Stephen Berry - The AI War

D'Trelna had waited until Zahava was alone, ambushing her as she was working out in a rec area. "I have a great opportunity for you," he said as she chinned herself on a pair of ceiling-hung rings.

"What?" she grunted, trying for three more.

"A chance to be with our D'Linian friends again. Especially after you so distinguished yourself on…"

Zahava dropped lightly to the padded floor. "Level, Commodore," she said, picking up her towel and wiping the sweat from her face and neck.

D'Trelna shrugged. "Fine. I'm out of field commanders. L'Wrona, S'Til and John are going with the infiltration unit. K'Raoda could handle it, but I need him here. Someone"-he studied the ceiling-"has to lead the direct assault against the battleglobe's Operations tower."

"Otherwise?" she said, holding the towel around her neck.

"Debacle. The D'Linians are competent soldiers, but they've never stormed a spacecraft before, never gone up against aliens in their home environment before." He jabbed a thick finger at her. "You have. And you're good at it-you think on your feet and you put the mission first."

She thought about it for a second, then nodded. "Okay, but…"

"Yes?"

"The infiltration group pulls out first, don't they?" D'Trelna nodded. "That's the plan."

"Good. Don't tell John."

"But…"

She shook her head firmly. "No. He's overprotective- he'd only make these next few watches unpleasant for all of us. And besides, knowing I was in danger would only lessen his effectiveness."

The commodore nodded. "Whatever you want."

A gong chimed three times. "Assault commencing," said the pilot's voice over speakers and commnet.

"Helmets on," called Zahava, unsnapping her own helmet from the closure in front of her. It was a clear glass bubblehelm, nothing unusual-except that it stopped fusion bolts. As she twisted it on, hearing it click into place, the assault boat's n-gravs whined higher, leading eight similar ships toward the AI battleglobe.

As they moved out, Zahava said a silent prayer for all of them.

"All boats away, Commodore," said K'Raoda.

D'Trelna nodded absently, watching the tacscan. Thirty-four of the battleglobes had encountered the mindslavers' version of the Mangier mine. They were overlayed with red on the tacscan. The rest, overlayed with blue, remained untouched.

"Shield power down an average of forty-eight point seven percent on affected battleglobes, Commodore," reported K'Raoda from the tactics station.

"And the globe that seized the brainship?" said D'Trelna, seeking to confirm what the tacscan said.

"Shield power down forty-two percent."

"Where the hell is K'Tran?" said D'Trelna, rising to pace behind the first officer's station.

"Here they come," said K'Raoda, pointing to a series of telltales. "Usual weird sensor scan-almost no warning."

"Mindslavers launching missiles, and exchanging fusion salvos with battleglobes. Units breaking up into individual combat," reported K'Raoda.

The tacscan danced with light as the ships maneuvered for advantage, beams and missiles flashing between them.

D'Trelna's commlink came on. It was N'Trol. "Want some bad news?" said the engineer.

D'Trelna scowled. "Does it regard the safety of the ship or the present engagement?"

"No."

"No," said D'Trelna, thumbing off the commlink.

"Wouldn't you like to be on the AI flagship's bridge right about now, Mr. K'Raoda?" said the commodore, watching the tacscan.

"No sir, not at all."

Stephen Ames Berry

The AI War

An agitated red sphere, the captain moved from station to station. "Shield status?" he asked, halting at defense screen control.

''Down one third," said the human-adapted AI manning the position. "We lost seven main-line and four auxiliary shield transponders. Situation has stabilized."

"Sir." It was combat control.

"What?" said the captain, moving right.

"We've lost four ships."

The AI officer read the scan-four battleglobes destroyed; enemy losses, none. "Enemy closing."

The image of a pair of mindslavers came onto the battlescreen, moving in on the representation of Devastator.

"All batteries open fire," ordered the captain.

Wave after overlapping save of light flashed across the battleglobe's surface as thousands of missile and fusion batteries sent awesome salvos of death out towards the mindslavers. Above, Devastator's shield glowed bright red, absorbing the slavers' counterfire.

"This is it," whispered L'Wrona. Just around the corner, halfway down a long gray corridor, two blades hovered before a closed door. "Sure?" whispered John.

The captain nodded. "According to R'Gal-and this is all according to R'Gal." He turned to his troop. "With me," he said.

They came around the corner, firing, a line of black-uniformed humans rushing the blades.

Three commandos died in seconds, torn by perfectly aimed blaster fire; then the blades went down, blown apart by the return volley.

They were still skidding along the deck as S'Til slapped the blastpak against the door, then joined the others pressed against the wall.

The door disappeared in a burst of orange flame, the explosion reverberating down the long corridor. Charging into the room, the humans gunned down a pair of cybertechs trying to hide behind the long banks of equipment.

"Which one?" said John, looking around the big room as the rest of the force fanned back out into the corridor.

"Here," said L'Wrona, leading him to a group of five yellow-colored machines standing slightly apart from the rest. Taking a flat metal device from his pocket, he set it atop a console, then knelt and snapped open the machine's inspection hatch. A glittering web of multicolored light greeted him, thousands of delicate strands busily maintaining Devastator's shield.

"Found it," said the captain, gently fingering a connection. "Pass me the suppressor."

As John turned, reaching for the device, a blaster bolt snapped past his chest and plowed into the console, just missing his hand and shattering the suppressor.

Whirling, John drew and fired, destroying a third cybertech who'd lain hidden behind a machine housing.

L'Wrona and John stood for a moment, looking at the shattered bits of the suppressor.

"Now what?" asked the Terran.

"Manual override," said the K'Ronarin. "It's only temporary, though." He looked at the time. "It'll be enough for the boats."

"What about the ship?"

"We can't wait here. We'll have to do that the hard way. Stay here, push this button"-he indicated a red control-"when I say to."

John nodded as L'Wrona walked to the end machine and stood, finger poised above a button. "Now," he called.

Both men pressed at the same instant.

Unprotesting, all but one of the consoles died, lights winking off.

"And out," said L'Wrona.

"Did it work?" asked S'Til, not taking her eyes from the corridor.

"We'll know soon," said L'Wrona, glancing at the time. "On to our secondary target."

The small force moved out on the double, following L'Wrona back toward the lift.

The alarm was deafening, an alert fit for the end of the universe. The AI on shield control glanced at telltale, then flipped a switch, tapped it, then flipped it again. The readout was unchanged. "Captain," he called, "confirming shields down. Someone's cut the fusion flow in shield nexus seventeen."

The warning was unnecessary. All Operations personnel were looking up through the armorglass-the blue glow that protected them was gone.

"Reaction force and repair party dispatched," reported the senior security blade.

"Much it will help us," said the AI captain. He moved to the glass wall. "Why are we still alive?"

"Enemy withdrawing," came the report a second later.