P Hillard - The Teller of Lies

“Fire again!” Abberax roared. Around him, warnings blared, and thralls rushed about. Several sections of the bridge were on fire, their thralls lying dead across the metal. “And keep accelerating! We have to get a shot at that battleship!”

“Engines are not responding, my lord,” said the thrall at the engineering console. They had pushed aside the corpse of the thrall wired into the wall, relying on the slower manual inputs. “The main antimatter feed is severed. They aren’t getting any power.”

Abberax stood up from his throne, raising himself to his full height. It was an imposing thing to look at, an angry elemental lording over its domain.

“I don’t care. Fire the manoeuvring thrusters if you have to!” Abberax stomped down the step before his chair, stopping to lean on the railing that ran around the central holographic display. An image of the Unmind ship hung there. Its head seemed to be staring directly at Abberax. “And keep firing!”

“Weapons are taking longer than usual to respond, my lord,” said another thrall. “Primary feeds are damaged.”

“Is anything on this ship not damaged! Fire those guns or I will make your life a living nightmare!”

As if in response the dreadnought fired its cannons. There was a faint whine and a dimming of lights as they drew on the power. That wasn’t normal, the ship was struggling to provide them with energy. Abberax watched the hologram as the shots closed on the Unmind ship. One of the beams hit, punching a gaping hole through the centre of the ship. It didn’t seem to care simply continuing its barrage with the handful of turrets it had remaining.

“Will nothing go right! Fire again! Destroy that thing.” Abberax pointed a jagged finger at the image. It made sense, the Unmind were machines and the ships were no different. There was no crew, no empty space, no life support. Simply redundancies upon redundancies. Abberax would need to destroy it totally to stop the thing.

A moment later, a little longer than Abberax would have liked, the dreadnought fired again. This time all its beams were on target, the damaged Unmind ship drifting on a predictable course. Nothing was left, the remnants of the ship annihilated by the blast.

“Target destroyed, my lord,” said the thrall working at the weapons console.

“I can see that!” Abberax would have triggered the thrall’s kill switch under normal circumstances, but he was running out of minions capable of working the bridge systems. “Target the next incoming vessel. Begin firing immediately.”

“They are out of effective range, my lord.”

Abberax ran his talons across his crystal, a sign of despair in his people. The beams had a range that was near enough infinite, the issue was the length of time it would give an opposing ship to evade. The shots from the dreadnought were normally aimed around an enemy ship, rather than directly at it, and there was a sweet spot where the travel time of the beam lined up with the enemy’s movements.

“I know that. Fire anyway!” Abberax’s crystal pulsed as he roared. A hit at this range was near impossible, but he needed every shot he could get. A single Unmind ship had nearly trashed his dreadnought, and now dozens more were closing in. “And get us moving! We need to get close to that battleship!”

Nguyen was watching the destruction unfold on the view screen before her. The enemy fleet, the ones she had been told were called the Unmind Index, was winking out of existence. The fleet had come through in a spearhead formation, the bulk of the force protecting the massive planet-sized vessel. The tip of the spear was firing on the Sword and it was returning the favour with its own storm of fire. The Unmind ships were coming in piecemeal, being picked off one by one. Eventually, the larger sections of the fleet would arrive, but for now, the Sword was acquitting itself well.

“This is, amazing,” Johnson said, watching the same images. “I thought it was unarmed.”

“Me too. It doesn’t even seem to be taking any damage.” Nguyen had been apprehensive when the alien commanding the Sword had told them to fall in behind it. She hadn’t expected this. The ship was somehow protecting everything near it.

Vossix was hopping excitedly on the spot. The former trooper was both an excellent sensor operative and had the most experience with the older systems of the Shield, so had ended up working on the bridge. “This is just like issue two thousand and seventeen! This ship has an energy shield! A forcefield big enough to block shots!” His mandibles chittered as he spoke.

“Yeah, I think he’s right. It’s like on TV, a big blue bubble that blocks stuff.” Johnson moved so he was behind the insectoid, looking at the sensor display over Vossix’s shoulder. “It must be what those objects we detected on the hull were for. I would bet good money that’s what’s shooting back as well.”

Nguyen rubbed her cheek as she thought. “Well, it’s a good a theory as any. As long as it keeps those things out there off our backs, I don’t care how it does it.”

Johnson let out a slight snort. “You know, it’s funny. We’re the Shield, but they’re the ones who actually have a shield. The names are the wrong way around.”

“Hilarious.” Nguyen rolled her eyes, then pressed a button on the arm of her chair. “Nguyen to Lagoon, are your people ready down there?”

“We’re ready. It’s going to be one hell of a trick getting onto the station when everyone wants to get out.” There was a loud noise in the background as Lagoon spoke, the sound of boxes being moved out of the way. “But I see the logic in it.”

“Good, get ready to move, I’ll be opening the hanger doors in two minutes.”

“Understood.”

Johnson walked back to his station. He had the communications array open and prepared to transmit. “We’re good to go when you’re ready,” he said.

Nguyen nodded, and Johnson pushed a switch on his console.

“This is Nguyen of the resistance ship the Shield. We are offering safe harbour and protection to anyone who wants it. Our hangar doors are opening, and our people are headed to the station to pick up anyone who doesn’t have a ship. The resistance is here to help.” Nguyen drew her finger across her throat, the sign for the line to be cut.

“The resistance huh, is that what we’re calling ourselves?”

“Can you think of anything better?” Nguyen activated the ship’s internal communications again. “Lagoon, you’re clear to open the doors to launch. Kalk, Auris, are you ready to receive any arrivals?”

“I have bay two,” Auris said. “Kalk has bay one. We’re in place and ready.”

“My men are ready in bay one.” It was Kalk’s growling voice. “Look sharp, these ships are going to be coming in quick and sloppy, like Gurx’s last mate.” There was a burst of uproarious laughter on the line. Kalk’s men had found the joke hilarious and their laughter had a low rumble to it.

“Taylor here, my marines are in place to assist if needed.”

“Good. Looks like we’re ready to receive ships. Let’s just hope Orson and the Gallant are amongst them,” Nguyen said.

Brekt hoisted Michael’s unconscious body over his shoulders, lifting the weight trivially. He didn’t have the time to be more delicate, the Unmind fleet had to be in range by now, and Brekt knew even the Sword couldn’t hold out forever. The ship’s shield was miraculous, but it wasn’t magical. Even it had limits. Brekt turned to face the direction of the hanger, Michael’s legs swinging about as he did.

“Your ship good to go?” Brekt asked. Orson and his men were still with him. Brekt had gained a small amount of respect, they could very easily have left him to deal with Michael alone, slipping into the crowd and vanishing. That they didn’t, showed they at least had some honour.