Guardian (War Angel Book 1) by David Hallquist (best contemporary novels .TXT) 📕

laser cluster, or even just a sand-caster. The enemy’s had lots of time to prepare and throw all kinds of nasty stuff in our way.

The Weston tacked her course as she decelerated toward Eros, maneuvering erratically, creating hundreds of possible vectors we could have launched from. Still, as she got closer, it soon became apparent there was only one general vector of approach, though the enemy wouldn’t know exactly when we’d launched, as that should have been hidden by the glare of her drive flames. Oh, they know we’re coming, just not exactly where or when. All the probes, decoys, and countermeasures mist we’ve launched should help hide us, too. So we can make it hard for them to see us coming…but not impossible.

I would prefer impossible. Real invisibility and cloaking still eludes us all, but Saturn currently has the edge on stealth. Saturn could even have something hidden nearby. Out there could be a cold, mechanical mind, made even more effective by being frozen down to cryogenic temperatures, watching…waiting…

Stop it, Mike. This is not helping.

Besides, if Saturn has an actual attack ship lurking out here to take a potshot at our carrier, that means the war’s on. So they probably won’t do that…unless they’ve already decided to start a war…and hitting our carriers early on would be a good opening move…maybe by sucking our fleet into a trap…

None of this is helping.

I wish I could be in communication with or even see the rest of my flight. I know they’re out there, but it feels like I’m out here entirely on my own. They’re probably feeling the same. Even more, I wish our flight was at full strength…while I’m at it, why don’t I wish for an extra carrier group?

Ah, well, I’ll be in contact soon, and then I’ll have a lot of other things to think about.

* * *

Trouble finds us about a minute away from the asteroid. Small dark blobs show up ahead of us, about the size of a handball and roughly on the path we’re on. While no radar or light is coming off of them, they’re still a bit warmer than deep space around them, so they show up as a dim, brownish red on my sensors. None of them are going to come into contact with my frame, so it looks like our preparations in avoiding detection paid off. Still, they were able to guess our approximate course in, and threw a bunch of trash in the way, maybe stealth mines or sensor remotes of some kind.

Since none of them are going to impact, I figure that maneuvering and breaking silence is the more dangerous approach and so I just let them race by. I risk a tight-beam laser burst to the fleet to let them know about these obstacles ahead of them. They shouldn’t be able to detect my beam and explode. Hopefully, anyway.

They don’t explode.

We don’t come in in the standard pattern this time. Maybe because it’s a miracle, or maybe “Data” Dashiell Bertrand learned from the last time when a cheap wrench almost took out a mega-credit exo-frame. More likely, it’s because he got a good talking-to from the Wing Commander about that incident at Ceres. My best guess is that since he’s now out here with us, and nothing concentrates one’s attention like knowing there are people out there doing their absolute best to kill you. It’s all different when you’ve got the target painted on your own chest.

Four flights will go by each quadrant of the asteroid, enough off pattern to be unpredictable. Data’s flight will be holding back as a reserve, but will actually be in the area, ready to engage. My flight will be going past the east end of the asteroid. Then, we’ll orbit under thrust and look for trouble.

* * *

Eros swiftly grows from a dot ahead into giant irregular lump of rock as it flashes past.

It’s time.

We reestablish our datalinks. Instantly, we’re able to see what the others can see and add that to our overall awareness of the battle. Taking in a vast ocean of sensory and tactical data and deciding what’s important and what can remain in the background takes special training, augmentation, and talent. What we end up with is a holistic and instinctive understanding of the battle around us, enabling each of us to work flawlessly together. No Angel fights alone.

We all hit our thrusters at the same time, going into high gravity maneuvers and launching countermeasures clouds, flares, and dazzler EM decoys.

All hell breaks loose.

Alarms flare everywhere as my frame comes under fire from dozens of point-defense lasers embedded on the asteroid and from drones in space. The enemy UV beams boil away the outer millimeters of my armor, and all my camouflage with it, with a series of sharp, explosive blasts of vapor that shake my whole frame. Our frames’ point-defense laser clusters are already firing back automatically, taking out enemy weapons emplacements, mines, and launched missiles. The laser duel is over in a second, and everyone on my team is still here. Sure, a lot of frames are glowing red hot, or might have a hole here or there, but we’re all in pretty good shape, considering.

As enemy railguns come online and missiles fire, I launch about 40 self-propelled grenades, or SPGs, with a mix of countermeasures and anti-missile mission packages. They’ll add more countermeasures clouds, help the decoys, and should blow away most of the third-rate black-market Terran missiles coming at us. Plasma explosions dot space with bright blue stars, filling the vacuum with invisible hyper-velocity darts flying in every direction. My frame shakes some more as a few more holes are punched into it. Just because they’re using obsolete weapons doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt if you get hit by them.

Flying close to the irregular surface of the asteroid, I go to