The Return: The Conglomerate Trilogy (Volume 1) Read online

  “I hope that is all,” Elena said.

  “Two missiles we might handle,” Luke said. “Even if we can’t maneuver. The drones are also out of fuel.”

  “I have a problem,” Elena said and Luke stopped breathing, those missiles should be the only problems.

  “I have a point defense turret offline from acceleration damage,” Elena said.

  “Acknowledged,” Luke said running his own diagnostics. Both his point defense turrets were functional. “We can do this.” Their computers would work together for maximum coverage and Elena’s Rapier was just ahead of Luke, still inside his arc. They could protect each other. Three point defense turrets should be able to handle the missile.

  The intense radiation from the attack dissipated enough so Luke and Elena could see the damage their surprise attack had inflicted on the Caliphate task force. Except for the crippled Frigate, the only thing remaining were shattered hulks, barely recognizable as ships. Sensors showed nothing alive or survivable in that sphere of destruction.

  Luke sent another transmission encapsulating the combat logs to New Alamo. It would be several minutes before the admiral could respond. The two missiles would reach Luke and Elana before a reply was received. Luke set up a constant feed, transmitting battle information to New Alamo. It might help them build better countermeasures if Luke and Elena did not survive.

  The first Inge missile came in hard and fast. Both Rapiers launched pellets into the likely path but the Igne detected them and changed course. All three point defense turrets opened fire at the same time the missile popped chaff and decoys. Lasers tried to track and kill the missile before it could deploy the warheads.

  Alarms screamed in both Rapiers as the Igne popped, releasing a pair of close range, less maneuverable warheads. The Igne took a hit, seconds before the first warhead did but the last warhead detonated before it could be identified and destroyed.

  Elena was closest. The EMP burst caused all the systems to shut off and restart in Luke’s Rapier. When they came back online, Elena’s ship was listed in the display as severely damaged. His own ship wasn’t much better.

  “Elena?” Luke said, zooming in to look at her ship. The habitation module was intact. Mostly. The blast had pushed her ship on a course away from Luke. She could not be dead. Luke refused to even contemplate the possibility. Her ship was still intact, barely.

  “This hoovers,” Elena said and then Luke heard her dry heaving. She sounded half-asleep. Luke’s first thought was radiation poisoning.

  “Hostile missile entering task force range in three minutes,” the computer reported.

  “I love you,” Elena said and Luke saw she was transmitting over the unencrypted emergency channel. Luke checked the plot and her ship status. She would be outside his point defense bubble when the missile arrived. Her communication module had suffered severe damage and could not encrypt communications. She was running on backup power, tertiary communications and the only life support she had was her suit now. Luke was not doing too much better, but he had more operational systems.

  “Missile track confirmed. Star Sprite has been targeted.” Luke stared at the screen. The Star Sprite was Elena’s Rapier. It should target him since he was functional.

  “We can do this,” Luke said, thinking, calm was the key to survival and success here. This could not be it. This could not be happening. There had to be a way, only a calm focused mind would find it. “Go to minimal power, play dead.” Luke said realizing she did not have power anyways. Her ship signature should show it was out of action. The missile could still change course and come at Luke. Luke powered all his sensors, pinging the missile and throwing every electronic signal he could at the missile. It was not working, the missile continued to close on Elena. There had to be something.

  “I love you too Elena,” Luke said over the open channel. “I. . .”

  “No matter where you go, I will find you. If it takes a thousand years,” Elena said. “Live for me.”

  “No,” Luke said. “I don’t want to lose you.”

  “Promise me you will live,” she said.

  “No,” Luke said. “I can’t”

  “You will,” she said, crying. “Please! Live for me.”

  “Please don’t,” Luke said. He was crying too. Nothing was working, why wouldn’t the missile change target? He tagged it with a laser, a near impossible shot at this range, but also a useless shot since the beam was too diffuse to pierce the armored shell.

  “Not our choice,” she said. “Promise me my love. It is the last thing I ask. Promise me. Live for me!”

  “I promise,” Luke said, defeated.

  “Wherever you go I will find you,” she said. “I-”

  The radio screeched with static.

 

  “Warheads detonated. Star Sprite destroyed.” The computer reported without emotion.

  Luke screamed and punched his console, his chair, anything he saw through blood filled tears.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Battle Wagon Assault

  Distant flashes of light showed the battle raging around him, but Luke found it peaceful and relaxing to watch. Quiet, with small, bright flashes, no sound, just light. They could be distant fireworks or random lights flickering in the darkness. You had to watch or you would miss them. Without sensors or telescopes that knew where to look, those fighting were invisible in the vast emptiness of space. It was impossible to tell who was winning, who was losing and who was dying. The enemy had not detected him because he was still alive. If they detected him, he would never know he was dead. Most people would fear such a sudden death but Luke found it very calming because slower deaths could be very painful.

  It was almost time. The cold was smothering what little heat he had; the heat didn’t bleed away. It faded away, dying and becoming nothing as the inevitable cold forced it back. The heat sink absorbing and masking his heat would kill him in the end. He was attached to a chain of forty lifeless warbots. Lethal killing machines as dead and inert as the cosmic dust around them. He had no radio, no light, no heat. The only sensors he had were his eyes, peering through a slowly frosting visor at the vast emptiness of space around him. He would live as long as he heard the hissing of air, now falling silent, or maybe until the enemy noticed him. A small, fast moving asteroid could kill him without warning, but a lethal burst of radiation from some ancient stellar event was more likely to kill him than anything else. There was no hint which star was the closest since it was so far away as to be indistinguishable.

  But it was peaceful. Nothing to do except watch and think. The waiting and thinking was the worst. Everything was silent except for the hissing nozzle of air releasing life-giving oxygen. The hissing would fall silent as the pressure decreased, when it was silent, Luke would die. Ice crystals forming on his visor made it hard not to shiver, his misty breath further obscured his vision. It should be time unless he had missed it or was facing the wrong way. He would know for sure when the hissing stopped, and the air turned stale. Sleep would claim him first as he surrendered to the cold and lack of oxygen. What would kill him first? It was irrelevant. Death would be welcome. The prickling sensation in his toes, fingers, lips and nose was gone and now they were numb. His checks and hands were tingling, and the numbness was spreading. Now he couldn’t feel the itch, he couldn’t scratch either, a minor relief. His suit couldn’t shield him against all the background radiation but it would take at least a week to kill him at regular levels, radiation was the least likely to kill him soon.

  He had nothing here. Not even his cybernetics were available, and it was getting colder and quieter.

  The battle wagon could not have moved out of place, its orbit was plotted and unwavering, Luke’s trajectory had also been carefully calculated. Six kilometers long and three wide, it wasn’t small except in the vastness of space. It was a heavily armored behemoth, designed to take a beating and give one. The Bronkaw had towed it into place and the tugs were gone but ther
e was no way to notify Luke of any change. Maybe if he survived, and was stupid enough to do this again, he could think of a signal.

  Had he missed his target? Lost it in the darkness? Was he facing the right direction? Had some minuscule nudge or movement sent him spinning or knocked him off course? If he were not facing it, then he would die when he slammed into it. This far out there were so few recognizable objects, he couldn’t even tell which direction he was facing as he hurtled through space. He looked around slowly, keeping his motions to a minimum, and found the purple nebula where he expected it. Was that right? Was his oxygen mix and the mind numbing cold affecting his thought process? Should it be over his left shoulder instead of his right? The cold made it hard to think. He could not shiver too much since it might send him spinning. He had to exercise control, and it was getting more difficult. His body might soon ignore him. Perhaps his numb extremities were already shivering, and he didn’t know it.

  “I’m sorry Elena,” Luke whispered to the stars, watching them, hoping for a sign, a clue, a message. “I’ve tried to keep my promise, please forgive me when I die. I miss you so damn much.”

  There was nobody to hear him.

  Would she be waiting for him on the other side? Was there another side or was it emptiness? That would be fine too. Emptiness was also the absence of loss and pain. There was no downside, and it was something to look forward to, too bad about the cold. He would rather not have to deal with the cold. There was no stress or sorrow in the emptiness of death. He could suffer the cold a bit longer. It wouldn’t kill him first.

  The plan had many flaws. Too fast, then automated deflection grids would swat him away as space debris, if Luke and his warbots were powered up or active, close in defenses would detect and vaporize them. He had to go just slow enough to get there before his air supply ran out, but not so quickly the stations automated defenses noticed the threat or the shields repelled them. Hopefully the enemy had not changed the parameters of their sensors. They weren’t known for their initiative or paranoia.

  The Bronkaw battle wagon appeared quickly, a big purple bread box covered with sensor blisters, weapon mounts and armor plates. Luke jammed the restart button and could barely feel his fingers, they didn’t feel like his, they felt distant and unfamiliar. His suit and implants flashed to life and the forty warbots on his chain powered up, weapons at the ready. An electric jolt sliced through his body, reactivating his cybernetics and nanites. Gravity chutes slammed into action and the thin cable disintegrated under the stress. Having a gravity chute deploy always hurt. If he survived, there would be bruises, but likely no broken bones and he couldn’t remove the savage smile from his face if he tried. It had worked, and they were too close for the defenders to react in time. He hoped his limbs would bend instead of shatter like ice cubes when he slammed into the battle wagon. If there is a next time.

  In seconds, the warbot platoon slammed into the battle wagon. The warbots were built for it, human shaped, with human proportions and carrying human sized weapons, they were bipedal and only remotely looked like a human, with their box like heads, thin arms, thicker legs and armored chests. Luke was augmented for assaults like this with nanotechnology reinforced bones and muscles, but it still hurt like hell when he smashed into it. There was a flash of white and then the sparkles cleared. Without the grav chute, he would be lumpy paste, smeared on the armor plating.

  No broken bones, or none his display bothered reporting at any rate, so despite the pain, Luke did not care. His suit was generating emergency heat, trying to warm him up and he might have frostbite in his fingers, toes, nose and lips. They were hurting now. The nanites in his system could repair frostbite, but it would be painful in the meantime. He was trying to move and flex everything he could since he had been motionless for so long. It was still cold but improving. His cybernetics were releasing pain killers into his system and he could think more clearly.

  “We’ve hit the deck,” Luke said, his signal going through one of the warbots designed for the purpose.

  “Damn Commander,” a voice replied with no real emotion. “This means I owe Colonel Gray some credits. This does not disappoint me.”

  “Thanks Nelson,” Luke said.

  Luke scanned the area and ordered some of the warbots toward a fold in the armor most likely to hold something in need of attention, the hostile, explosive kind of attention.

  Following their programming, the warbots broke off into pairs with at least half moving along the surface using hand grav chutes to target the small anti-personnel and anti-assault ship weapons. The hunting warbots had missiles and rockets. The other half clustered near Luke. Nearby a big ship killing plasma lance slashed the darkness with another blast. Polarizers kicked in to keep Luke from being blinded. It was not a target yet, but Luke decided it might be if it fired again.

  “How’s the battle going?” Luke asked looking around trying to get his bearings. Checking the feeds from the warbots that were spreading out, it looked easy. It would get worse soon. His simulations always had nasty surprises built in and missions never went according to plan.

  “Ineffective,” Nelson said. “We need to get closer to do damage but if we get closer we get shredded by those plasma lances. I have suspended the missile strikes. Missiles are still inbound but they have been disarmed.”

  “Good,” Luke said. “Keep them guessing for a little longer.”

  “None of our missiles are getting through at any rate,” Nelson said. “I’m sending in the fighters and shuttles. You have two minutes before the fighters enter range. I think we will have a small window. Once they are close, they can do real damage, maybe silence those lances.”

  “Thanks,” Luke said. Not much time then. Hopefully, the Bronkaw didn't have many fighters. The plasma lance fired again and Luke flinched at the sudden light and his display dimmed again. Luke almost ordered a team to take it out but decided against it. The fighters would shred it. Checking his radiation exposure level Luke saw nothing had changed.

  The battle wagon had taken minor damage but Luke’s fleet could not damage it without suffering serious damage in return. Luke’s fleet was dueling at extreme long distance, at the maximum range of the Bronkaw weapons, striking at the battle wagon like mosquitoes attempting to fell an elephant. It was a losing battle, but it had just been a distraction. Following behind Luke was a battalion of warbots in stealthed shuttles. They could get close but not close enough with the close defense weapons active.

  A rocket from a pair of warbots speared one of the sensor clusters, shattering it.

  Soon the stealthed shuttles could approach unopposed. The weapons designed to detect and destroy them were now being eradicated. If enough sensors were trashed, they might not be detected at all. It was only a matter of time before they realized troops on the hull were destroying their close in defense weapons instead of Luke’s distant ships. When the Bronkaw realized who was doing the damage, they would send out troops or robots of their own.

  Another warbot missile lanced out and smashed a sensor spike about five hundred meters away.

  Everything sped up as two squads assembled around Luke and he designated a target. Warbots had found an airlock, hidden in the fold of some armor, and a team was cutting into it with plasma cutters.

  When the outer door flew off into space, the two warbots entered and attacked the inner door. The airlock was built to angle into the armor, which would prevent a hit from piercing it too easily. Hopefully, the Bronkaw would think it was just battle damage but Luke was being optimistic. They wouldn’t expect what was coming if they were as arrogant as Luke thought they were.

  Luke and the rest waited outside, scanning their surroundings, waiting for the Bronkaw Marines to make an appearance. Everything was purple on the battle wagon. Purple lights, purple walls, purple armor, purple battle station. The Bronkaw liked purple; Luke did not.

  “Commander, the battalion is beginning our approach,” Gray said. “We should enter enemy detection range
any second.”

  “Ooorah,” Luke said looking around and checking the immediate area. A hatch about two hundred meters away from Luke slid open, and a turret extended. The Bronkaw had just detected the inbound shuttles and had likely activated close defense weapons. A missile lanced out to shatter it. In the distance Luke saw flashes of light as another turret fired. A warbot team zipped away using their gravity chutes to remedy the problem.

  If Luke’s fleet had wanted to, it could launch an effective missile strike now. “I can’t promise you an unopposed landing but I think it will soon be an infantry fight.”

  “Excellent Commander,” Gray said. “Then I ask that you hold position and wait for our arrival.”

  Luke laughed, rubbing his hands trying to get the circulation going again. It was hard to do in the thick gloves. “What and lose momentum? Surrender the initiative?”

  “I tried Nelson,” Gray said as Luke checked his radiation count. It was high but wouldn’t be fatal and already his nanites were repairing it. If he could get inside it wouldn’t be fatal.

  “Another Marine cock-up,” Nelson replied. “Next time try harder jarhead.”

  “Let’s see you do better squidbert,” Gray replied.

  The airlock itself was huge, and it had to be since the Bronkaw were twice the height of an average human, and about six times the weight. On Earth, the dinosaurs had died off. On the Bronkaw home world, they had evolved. Large, bipedal, tailed, scaled, and intelligent. An unarmed man could not hope to go against a Bronkaw, even a heavily armed man would think twice about it. The Bronkaw carried weapons humans could only fit on vehicles and Luke wanted to break into a massive, bread loaf shaped, battle station full of armed, physically superior, traditionally psychotic Bronkaw warriors. There might be easier ways to die but Luke was more ambitious.

  Just inside the hatch artificial gravity took effect. Such a waste of energy Luke thought, but then the Bronkaw didn’t like to think outside their box.