Gods Dogs, Book 3

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

Oscar Wilde

The team worked their way to the bottom of the ship next to the spinal-mounted rail gun. Ten minutes later, their nuke detonated, and seconds after that the stacked disc, command module was a glowing, broken ruin.

Across the black, they could see more detonations. Nuclear fire was greeting the A-group’s invasion.

The team stayed where they were so that the bulk of the dead dreadnaught protected them from the radiation and shrapnel of the still exploding command module. After another fifteen minutes, Quinn sent out a call to the fighters that were now heading back to rearm.

“Charlie-echo-4 to any Congress fighter, do you read me?”

After a few minutes, there came a static-filled response, “Charlie-echo-4, this is Raptor two-niner.”

“Have you launched your missiles, Raptor two-niner?”

“Yeah.”

“Then, if you don’t mind, my team and I would like to hang onto those empty hardpoints. That way we can get a ride back to the carrier.”

“I don’t think that’s been done before.”

“We weigh less than the missiles. It should work.”

“Okay. I can’t hover. How will you get to me?”

“Grappling hook.”

“Okay. I’ve got your location. I’ll do a slow fly-by. I hope this works.”

The pilot slowed as best he could, and inverted so the missile mounts faced the team. They fired their grappling lines, and the magnetic ‘hook’ locked onto the wings. Then they reeled themselves up to the hardpoint and secured themselves.

“We’re ready,” Quinn told the pilot.

“Okay. I’ll take it easy.”

“What’s the chatter?” Quinn asked.

“We got over half the targets, but it’s a fight on the rest of them. I was headed for a strafing run to help some marines.”

“Take us there, and we’ll drop off to help out.”

“You don’t want to go to the carrier?”

“Not yet, Raptor.”

“Okay. We’re three mikes out. Hang on.”

The pilot turned toward his original objective. It was a platform that was partially destroyed, and one of the command modules was still operational. It sat docked at one end of the platform, which was a series of laser banks and a rail gun bisecting its length. The marines were about halfway along the platform and in a fight with a large contingent of enemy troops boiling out of the command disc.

“Slowing down for you to detach,” the pilot said. “Release in three, two, one, release.”

They dropped on a ballistic track that would land them behind the marines. The pilot told them, “I’m coming around for a strafing run east to west. Don’t get in the crossfire.”

“Thanks, Raptor two-niner.”

Quinn switched frequencies and called out, “Marines, this is Charlie-echo-4 coming in on your six. Raptor two-niner is setting up for a strafing run. Hold your fire and hit the deck.”

Then Quinn switched back to the team’s tac-net, “Fire all our missiles where the soldiers are massed. River, hold back five of yours, and find a sniper position in all that tangled mess out there.”

The scene below was becoming more distinct. Quinn could see that the power systems were further aft of the rail gun mount, and it was destroyed. The command disc was apparently tied into the intact routing system and trying to supply power to the still-intact weapons.

As they lost elevation, the team fired their small missiles from the racks that rotated up from their backs. The missiles exploded among clumps of troops. The rest of the soldiers ducked for cover. Then the fighter angled in and strafed them from left to right.

“Thanks, Raptor two-niner,” Quinn called out as he landed and activated his magnetic boots.

“Good hunting, Charlie-echo-4,” was the reply.

A nearby marine stood and approached. “Good to see you, Quinn.”

“Gunny Murphy,” Moss exclaimed. “Fancy meeting you here. Have you got a solution to this problem?”

“Yeah, blow the command ship. Not sure how we do it, though.”

River reported in, “The troops are falling back. I think they’re regrouping.”

“Looks like we have a minute,” Quinn said. “Can we get to where the command ship is docked?”

Murphy turned. “Martinez, can we get to that docking bay?”

“It’s actually a double bay, top and bottom, one ship on either side. We could come in from the bottom one. It’s empty.”

“Jones, McHenry, you guys scout it out. We need to get through to where they’re plugged in.”

“Aye, gunny,” was the reply.

A small missile streaked overhead and impacted near the command ship.

River explained, “They’re pretty dumb, Quinn. I got a good dozen of them all bunched up. Now I’m looking for a clear shot into the command ship.”

Murphy asked, “River?”

“Yes. She’s in sniper mode,” Quinn chuckled.

Five rail gun rounds streaked overhead next as River switched to her sniper rifle.

Then Murphy’s tac-net lit up. “Mike-november-10, are you ready to extract?”

“Negative. We’ve got a command ship to destroy.”

“They carry a battalion of soldiers.”

“We know that. They’re not a problem.”

“Roger. Cutter Chisholm breaking off. Stay in touch, Murphy.”

“Roger that, Harry.”

The scouts returned within a half-hour and reported.

“It looks like they bunkered up, gunny. The blast doors between the two docking ports are closed in the middle where the join is. On the other side of it are crew-served weapons behind a series of barricades. There’s maybe a company of soldiers.”

“And the rest of them are up here,” Murphy said, “keeping us from boarding the ship.”

Quinn thought for a moment on the tactical situation and switched to include River in the tac-net. “River, how many troops are up here?”

“A platoon, or maybe a few more than that, but they are bringing up crew-served weapons and barricades. I’m waiting for them to get set up before I blow it all up.”

“Hold off on that. We may want to follow the blast and board the ship.”

Murphy caught on. “If we pin the company in place at the docking bay –”

“Yeah. We might be able to take the ship.”

Murphy chuckled. “You know, you’re a crazy bastard, Quinn.” Then, to his marines, he ordered, “Saddle up. We’re the diversion for a crazy Coyote op.”

Quinn turned to Pax and Moss. “You go left, you go right. I’ll go down the middle. We storm through to the ship. River, we’ll be in position in two mikes.”

“Okay,” River said. “They are ripe for the picking, and I have a clean shot at the hatch. I’ll be firing two missiles, which leaves me with two.”

“In position,” Quinn eventually said.

“Firing one,” River replied. “Firing two.”

After the detonations, three Coyotes bounded toward the destroyed barricades and the sagging hatch to the ship. Air streamed out of the hatch, pulling debris with it.

The team finished off the wounded troops and entered the ship. Pax began patching the hatchway. River bounded in and helped him.

They were in the upper level of the column that connected the two discs together. Once they separated, the stub of the column served as a docking arm. It was fifty feet in diameter, and all the plug-ins for everything was here: weapons, life support, power, damage control, and a hard connection to the NSAI.

“River,” Quinn said, “see if you can subvert the A.I. We need control of the ship.”

“Okay,” River said and moved through the vacuum to a junction box. The upper blast door was down, trapping them where they were. After a few minutes at the junction box, River said, “I need more brute force to get through the firewall. Ask your A.I.s to link with Becky over their battle-net. I think we can chase the NSAI back to his kernel.”

“The crew knows what we’re doing,” River reported as the brute force attack began. “Okay. We have control here. I’m pressurizing this space so we can enter the ship. They don’t know I can do that.”

“Good. You stay here. Pax, watch the hatch when we get through. Moss and I will start clearing levels.”

“Done,” River said a few moments later.

The sound of air pressurizing the space became audible. Then River cycled the connecting hatch.

“You’re good to go,” she told them.

They broke right and left through the hatch, and shot the crewmen in the corridor. Pax came last and took up station.

The saucer-shaped disc held five levels near its center, but only one level at the perimeter, which was a corridor for maintenance and repair bots and their supplies. Moss and Quinn stayed near the center of the ship to clear the four levels above them. Moss went clockwise; Quinn, counter-clockwise. They used speed and precision shooting to wipe out most of the crew. The top level was barracks and living accommodations for the battalion of soldiers. It was empty. The third level, the geometric center of the ship, was the bridge.

Murphy’s voice came over their squad-net, “Quinn, the troops here are retreating.”

“That’s fine, Murphy. Head up to the hatch we came through. That’s the only way in now. Hold that hatch if they come your way.”

“Aye, Quinn. We’re on the move.”

Quinn stood at the captain’s station, which was at the center of a circular bank of consoles. Another bank of consoles lined the wall, which left plenty of room to move between them. Quinn slid a hacking stick into the captain’s console.

The NSAI responded, “Captain’s authorization required.”

Quinn placed the dead captain’s hand on the scanner.

“Authorization accepted.”

“Computer, surrender to the attacking force. Give their A.I. command access.”

“As you command.”

River called out, “The NSAI just surrendered, Quinn. I’ve got control.”

“Imagine that,” Quinn chuckled. “Send a stand-down notice to the troops and crew. They are now prisoners-of-war. Then shut down all the weapons.”

“On it,” River said.

“Then let the carrier know we’ve got one of these command discs. It might come in handy.”

“Message sent,” River said after a while. “They’re sending a prize crew, but I’m not sure they know the importance of what we’ve got.”

“What’s the importance?” Quinn asked.

“Nothing was erased, Quinn. We’ve got everything: command codes, shield frequencies, their cyber warfare playbook. I mean everything.”

Quinn thought for a moment. Then he switched to broadcast to the team and Murphy. “Okay, River. First off, get the repair bots fixing the hatch you blew and everything else that needs fixing. Make us space-worthy. Gunny, you have prisoners to secure and bodies to police. When the prize crew shows up, I want to be ready to move.”

It was another two hours before a cutter dropped off the prize crew. It consisted of a captain, an XO, sensor techs, gunnery officers and ratings, engineering, life-support, and others, including another platoon of marines.

The captain was a Sentic with the equivalent rank of a lt. commander. Pax showed him to the bridge.

“Quinn, team lead for Charlie-echo-4.”

“Roquemon, Quinn. Good job capturing the ship.”

“Thanks. What are your orders?”

“To fly this ship back to my carrier. The engineers want to get a good look at it.”

Quinn grinned. “I’d like for us to take the scenic route.”

“I don’t know that idiom.”

“Captain, we have all their codes. We can disrupt the attack.”

“I’m not authorized for that.”

“I am,” Quinn said. “Computer, connect me with Master Chin.”

“Chin, here.”

“This is Quinn, master. We’ve got an intact disc with all the codes. I’m requesting clearance to take this ship into battle to disrupt what we can.”

There was a lengthy pause before Chin replied, “You’re authorized, Quinn. Good hunting.”

If a Sentic could smile, Roquemon did so, his plated shoulders jiggling with humor. “I suppose you have a plan.”

“I do,” Quinn said and turned to River, who was now at the computer station. “Are you ready, River?”

“Yup. Just get us within a few light seconds of the bad boys, and we’ll be causing trouble.”

Roquemon nodded. “XO, status?”

“We’re finishing our checks. We’ll be ready to detach and get underway within the half-hour.”

“Very good. Quinn, if you would take the tactical chair.”

“Thank you, captain.”