Stephen Berry - The Biofab War

"Did I mention T'Nil's daughter? She was on R'Noa. Her father arrived too late to save her or his grandchildren.

"Even before his coronation, T'Nil rounded up all the masters of the de facto Mindslavers Guild. He had them brain-stripped and placed aboard this vessel now before us. The other mindslaves were mercifully destroyed and the ships converted to conventional craft.

"Thus ends my truth, Subcommander," said POCSYM. "May it inform your own."

"Why was she sent here?" K'Raoda asked.

"I wasn't told. I suspect, though, that the disintegrating Empire didn't want Revenge falling into the hands of, say, a rebellious sector governor."

"And the mindslaves?" asked Bob.

"Functional, as is the rest of the ship. I've had her in stasis, of course. The mindslaves-"

The computer was checked by D'Trelna's upraised hand. "Yes?" the Captain said into his communicator.

"Sir, message from Admiral L'Guan." L'Wrona read it to him.

"I have something to add," said POCSYM. "Please check your detectors now, Commander. Do you confirm what my satellites have picked up?"

As L'Wrona turned toward the screen an ensign called, "Enemy force emerging from hyperspace."

Next to Pluto a swarm of tiny red dots were forming into a huge phalanx.

"S'Cotar battlefleet has entered from hyperspace near the ninth planet, sir," reported the XO. "They're dropping into assault wedge."

"How many?"

L'Wrona hopefully tapped the telltale. The figures didn't change. "Two thousand five hundred and twenty-eight," he reported stoically. "Heavy cruisers, destroyers, corsairs, scout and patrol craft, supply and transport vessels. Lots of transports. They're not just here for a casual visit."

"Where is the command ship?" asked the Captain.

"Can't tell at this range, sir."

"I have her, Captain," said POCSYM.

They were back in Central Control, facing a hologram of the solar system. "My apologies," the computer said, "but it seemed less cumbersome."

In the midst of the red dots now advancing on Earth glowed a single green light. "The command ship," said POCSYM. "She is Nasqa-'deadly wraith.' One mile in diameter, crew of three thousand."

"Well, Captain?" asked John.

D'Trelna was silent, eyes distant. He ran his fingers through thinning hair.

"POCSYM," he said finally, "can you defend Terra against such a massive force?"…

"Gallantly, Captain, but very, very briefly."

"Can you put Revenge in orbit?"

"Yes, with ease."

"Can you put an assault team aboard Nasqa before her ships come within range of Terra?"

"Yes."

"My friends"-D'Trelna smiled-"let's adjourn to the meeting room and discuss a mad scheme I have. It's just insane enough to work."

"The hell you are!" John stormed at McShane. "You heard what the Captain said. His own men are afraid to mindlink with those creatures. What makes you so damned omnipotent?"

No sooner had D'Trelna announced his twofold "mad scheme" than Bob had, volunteered for what John thought the most dangerous mission: mindlinking with the disembodied brains aboard Revenge.

The professor calmly regarded his angry ex-student. "I saw no rush of volunteers," he observed dryly.

"Also, I submit myself as the logical candidate.'' He poured water from an onyx carafe into a matching cup and sipped.

"It's been speculated that only Terrans, with their heart rate higher than K'Ronarin, have a chance of arriving aboard Nasqa undetected."

Speculated was the word for it. Two months ago the K'Ronarins had captured a S'Cotar courier ship. Along with new Fleet deployment and withdrawal protocols it carried modifications specs for ships' Security systems. Henceforth, penetration alarms would be keyed only to the K'Ronarin heart rate. The S'Cotar had evidently been plagued by false intruder alerts triggered by too broad a detection program.

Rigging the courier's drive to overload, the K'Ronarins had blown the ship up along with her dead crew, hard by the S'Cotar advance. They could only hope the aliens had bought the accident, leaving the program modifications unchanged.

"Thus, all Terrans now here fit for combat may attempt entry. The surviving U.S. troopers left with Mr. Montanoya; his 'witnesses,' he called them."

"Despite the space spectacular, he'll need them if he wants to stay out of the funny farm," said Greg.

Bob smiled slightly. "Knowing the cobwebbed minds that clutter many senior government posts, I'm sure he will. If he appeared alone crying, 'Watch the sky! Watch the sky!' they'd put him in a rubber room.

"But that leaves only the five of you.

"As we know, the K'Ronarins refuse to meddle with what is to them abomination. The good Captain here will only ask his crew to man the less exotic parts of Revenge.''

"Never give an order you know won't be obeyed," mumbled D'Trelna, sitting on the table's edge, eyes occasionally flicking to the screen and the advancing S'Cotar fleet.

"Further," continued Bob, "without the mindslaves and the weapons systems they control, Revenge is just another ship. Correct, Captain?"

D’Trelna nodded.

"Someone who is expendable, unburdened by ancient legend and possessed of a disciplined mind must serve as mind-slave liaison. I am that man, gentlemen and lady. Hobson's choice: Take me or do without."

Before anyone else could try to dissuade him, POCSYM spoke.

"Nasqa will be within transporter range in thirty minutes and her fleet within bombardment range of Terra in four hours. May I urge speed?"

"Nasqa assault group will don warsuits and arm. Be back here in twenty minutes for transport," ordered D'Trelna, rising.

"Crazy old coot," John muttered as he walked past McShane, affectionately squeezing the professor's shoulder.

Bob turned his head, winked and lit a cigar, exhaling a great wreath of tobacco smoke.

Wonder if he'll look so smug in a mindlink helmet, K'Raoda thought, seated across from Bob. Pouring himself a glass of water, he toasted McShane.

Stephen Ames Berry

The Biofab War

The handful of Terrans strode purposefully down the gray, curving corridor of Nasqa. S'Cotar scuttled and flitted all about, paying them no mind.

"They're arrogant and literal-minded," POCSYM had said earlier, as the teaching helms settled over their heads. "Arrive undetected by their equipment and they'll think you're transmutes. You'll make it to the bridge."

When the helms lifted, three lost minutes later, they knew Nasqa: her layout, crew disposition, bridge operations; knew her as well as any S'Cotar. It was hard-won data, gleaned by POCSYM and Confederation Intelligence over the years.

The bridge crew should number no more than six. If the humans reached the bridge, they just might carry the day.

Maybe, thought John, running his thumb along the smooth leather of his holster.

POCSYM had put them as near to their objective as possible in so distant a moving target. They had only a walk of a hundred yards before the Terrans came to the bridge. S'Cotar came and went through the round, open doorway.

An alarm hooted. Lights flashed. Thinking it was all over, John turned to down the nearest aliens. But the S'Cotar ran past the humans, ignoring them. Giant blast doors began trundling shut. In a moment the bridge would be sealed.

"They're getting ready to engage Implacable," whispered Sutherland, drawing up beside John. "Now or never," said John. "Let's go." Caution tossed aside, he led the rush through the half-closed doors.

Nasqa's central screen showed the position of her fleet relative to two dots midpoint between Earth and Moon-two dots, John noted with relief. Revenge had joined Implacable.

High-backed chairs fronted the six bridge positions, hiding their occupants from view. "Turn slowly and you won't be hurt," lied John, seeking to spare only the consoles.