Anomalous Cargo - Chapter 5

[Fhg#1893]

Anomalous Cargo - Chapter 5

“Proximity Alert!”

Tred snapped back into the waking world, and was immediately alert as alarm klaxons filled the cabin.

“Source!” He immediately demanded.

“Khaak cluster detected. No immediate vicinity. Course 173 mark 240, speed 58 km, distance 12.56 km, and closing.”

“Spast!” Tred cursed. Pride of Decker was much faster than any Khaak cluster he’d ever observed, but this one had managed in ahead of his position, and was closing fast. If he had more time, he might come about and tried to outrun it, but that wasn’t an option in this case, and there was still the large number of Khaak M5 class ships that came with Khaak clusters, from which he wasn't fast enough to escape.

Tred glanced at the navigation computer display to verify his position. He was about two thirds of the way through Hatikvah’s Faith, almost into Aladna Hill, and relatively safe, friendly, Argon territory. But almost wasn’t good enough, there was no chance of getting any help here in wild space. And while pirates were sometimes crazy, none but the craziest would risk taking on a Khaak cluster.

“Time to intercept!”

“Estimated time to intercept, 4.32 mizuars.”

“Target enemy vessel and display.”

The upper left corner of Tred’s view screen was replaced by a menacing, black-purple geometric figure that was bearing down on him. The hairs on Tred’s forearms stood on end; he’d rather try to outrun a Xenon fleet, than face a Khaak cluster, at least the Xenon were known to miss on occasion. Tred noticed that at least it was one of the Khaak’s smaller clusters, and probably didn’t contain more than a dozen ships or so. Still, the odds were grim, Pride of Decker’s shields wouldn’t last long against that many ships.

“Computer, charge weapons and give me manual control. Activate targeting computer.”

The heads-up display glowed red, and a red outlined highlighted the enemy vessel. Tred grasped the control-stick and throttle, which he promptly pushed to full speed, while he gripped the trigger for the boost extension. The numbers distance indicator began to fall. The cluster hadn’t broken up yet, he had just one chance to do some serious damage before the Khaak could manoeuver and return fire, and he intended to make the most of it.

At 4.3 km, the computer suddenly announced, “No aim. Cluster is separating.”

“Track new targets and target nearest M5!”

“Tracking. Registering nine new contacts. Target acquired.”

At 3.2 km, the ships began to lazily break away from the cluster’s biggest threat, the M3. Tred felt for the trigger trying to read the movement of the alien ship’s, making minor adjustments to his trajectory to keep the targeting reticle centred in the display.

At 2.12 km, the computer made its fateful declaration,

“Target is now in firing range.”

Tred immediately squeezed the trigger and five streams of six groups brilliant white-green flashes briefly illuminated the darkness of space. Tred prayed that they would find their mark, and quickly switched targets. Only 1.87 km away now, as he squeezed off another burst. At 1.02 km, he switched to a third target and blasted away, hoping that the dispersion of plasma would damage as many ships as possible. At 823 m, the shots from his first burst did find their mark, and the blocky-triangular shape of a Khaak M5 was consumed in a brilliant crimson fireball of escaping gas. Suddenly Tred’s third target suffered the same fate, as the plasma cut deep gouges in the hull, and it failed critically. At 647 m, he opened up with a quick final burst on a fourth target, as the computer shouted its inevitable alarm,

“Warning! Energy low!”

His gun capacitors struggling to recharge, at 417 m, Tred pushed hard to the right to avoid the swarm of oncoming Khaak. Quickly he checked the readout, his second target had suffered major damage and was venting what he could only conclude was fuel, but it was still coming. His fourth target had suffered minor shield damage, and somehow miraculously had avoided the rest of his onslaught.

And now it was the Khaak’s turn. Anticipating what would come next, Tred had already put his ship into a vicious climb and slide to the left, as the Khaak turned on him. Black space was suddenly fractured by five purple beams which crisscrossed before him, and a set of three brighter beams, which sliced just above Tred’s cockpit. He quickly reversed direction, and pushed his ship into a dive. If he could just avoid the more powerful guns of the M3 fighter, he might have a chance of escape! But two more beams found their mark, and Tred’s shield’s dropped by over twenty percent. Being an M4 class, they quickly began to recharge, but a few more of those hits, or just one by the M3's guns and it would be all over.

A Khaak scout that had pushed its speed too high overtook Tred’s ship, passing close by on the upper right. Tred made the Khaak pay for that fatal mistake. Though his guns were only twenty percent recharged, they still pumped out more than enough energy to reduce the alien vessel to twisted metal, and at this range, there was no way that Tred was going to miss. The enemy ship consumed two groups of plasma, 4 bolts each finding their marks, its shields collapsing in the first salvo, its reactor was breached in the second, and the ship was no more.
Tred pushed hard down and to the left to avoid the rapidly expanding cloud of debris. The three M5s which were pursuing Tred weren’t able to compensate in time, and they overshot him, and the fourth M5 that he’d hit earlier was badly stricken and having difficulty getting in on the fur-ball. But that left the much slower M3, and those deadly guns, which found their marks. They sliced through Tred’s shields like they were swamp-plant leaves, and struck just ahead of his cockpit, putting trio of neat holes in the hull. “Warning shields are down! Triplex scanner destroyed!” The computer informed him. Tred squeezed off a long burst of plasma at the fighter to prevent it from following up on its original salvo. Thankfully the fighter turned hard to avoid the Tred’s response, and its shields were hit, but only suffered sixty percent damage. They would recover far too quickly for Tred’s liking, and his hull wouldn’t survive more than one or two more hits like that.

The scouts that had overshot him collected themselves and began bearing down on him once more. That left Tred with just one final, desperate option. He turned his ship hard about and faced the oncoming Khaak.

As angry purple beams flashed out from the rushing M5s, Tred put his ship through a dizzying roll. Tred whirled and destroyed one of the ships, and risking everything by flying through the debris cloud, he managed to severely wound another and somehow, he also managed to avoid another salvo of the M3's cutting beams. That left one M5, two that were in no condition to follow, and that damned M3. But the healthy M5's shot found its mark, and cut a long gouge into Tred’s engine manifold. His hull integrity dropped to seventy-two percent, but it was enough.

Tred slid out long to the right, and gun capacitors screaming in protest, fired a short burst at the passing M5, just enough of his shots scoring hits to take the final enemy ship out of the fight. With its remaining scouts too slow to pursuit, Tred’s ship was simply too fast for the trapezoid shaped fighter to overtake him.

Tred quickly aimed his ship towards the jump-gate, and pushed the damaged engines to full speed. Leaving the alien M3 behind, it could only fire a few shots, and even tried to send a missile at Tred in protest. But Pride of Decker was just too fast for the remaining ships, and Tred made good on his escape. But he didn’t stop looking over his shoulder until he was past Argon, and entered Boron territory.[/i]

[SOTS]

lol Remember what I said about you writing mine?

Consider yourself conscripted

Another excellent chapter - more damnit!

[Syndrome]

Good stuff