Ragnarok: Colonization, intrigue and betrayal. by Andrew Claymore (best book reader .txt) 📕

Vikram looked out theside opposite from where the disembarkation ramps would connect. Thewalls were of the typically ornate imperial design aesthetic. He’dbeen reading up on it since he’d seen the young Earth woman who’dmodified the designs for Unity.

The hemisphericalarrivals hall had been reinforced with gracefully curving columnsattached to the stone by a web of carboncrete. He wrinkled his nose.

There was a spot behindtwo of the pillars where the surface looked rough; fractured ratherthan scoured smooth by the horde of construction nanites. The websof carboncrete were also interrupted here.

Like the corner of our town wall,he thought.

The capsule slidforward and the crush of people moved toward the ramp. The restraintfields in the capsule archways deactivated.

Without a consciousdecision, he stepped out on the far side and moved toward theanomaly. He deployed his suit from lower-body only to full-bodywithout gauntlets and helmet.

Now he had betteraccess to his suit’s computer and HUD. “Determine the focal pointof that spherical section,” he commanded, sketching out the regionin his HUD using an index finger.

The system opened aholo-image of the region. A space in the highlands, near the coffeeplantings, was indicated as the center. It was about twenty metersbeneath the surface.

Beneath where Vikramhad been found.

“Project the focalpoint of the spherical anomaly in the town wall,” he said.

Same place…

Very good, Vikram.

He started, glancingaround behind himself. He shook his head.

“Nanites won’tprocess material within that radius?” He waved off the processor’srequest for clarification. He turned to look at the arrivals station.

There was an elevatorshaft.

There may not be much more time. I may bedestroyed soon. I must see you.

TheKupharhad done all shecould, aside from the one squadron stillaboard her when the missiles hit.

And now there were justthree frigates and a cruiser left to kill. He looked at his statusboard.

No missiles.

The Dice had expendedtheirs on the first wave of ships, who were just a damned decoy. TheGamblers had blown theirs tearing up the main attack and still hadfour enemies to kill and no carrier to resupply them.

“All callsigns,Gambler Actual.Continue engagement. We’re out of missiles so it’s gunnery fromhere on in. Focus on thefrigates first.”

“Gonna take a hellsof a lot of gunnery to take out those ships,” Scratch, the leaderof Dice Squadron, said dubiously.

“It’s betterthan throwing rocks,” Hennessy retorted, “andwe got a lot of colonists relying on us. We weren’t sent out herejust to look pretty, boys.”

“You sure as hellweren’t,” Scratch told him. “We’re coming in hot!”

A streak out infront of him heralded the arrival of the Loaded Dice. Hennessyswung in, guns blazing on the nearest frigate.

The chances oftaking out a cruiser with guns alone, especially guns in the 30mmsize range, were especially slim. Aship that big could instantly repair a strafing run as long as thebullets weren’t followed up by missiles.

A frigate had a muchhigher critical-target to mass ratio. The chances of crippling hitswere far better.

He blasted a line alongthe hull of the nearest ship. He wasn’t sure, but he thought hemight have put some damage into the bridge. He couldn’t stickaround to find out, not with the frigate’s close-in defensivebatteries trying to get revenge.

He came in from aft ofthe second target. He poured a hail of rounds into her stern,exulting as the blue glow of her engines started dimming.

And then he was empty.

The trace showed onlythe cruiser as still active. She’d mostly ignored the fight withher escorts, seeming to realize the missiles were used up. She wasmoving into orbit.

The frigates weredisabled, one of them falling toward Ragnarok while the other twodrifted in what was probably a decaying orbit. They might be able toget their engines working in time to run.

“Anyone stillhave rounds?” hecalled.

Nobody did. He couldsee it on the board but desperation made him ask anyway.

Just in case theUniverse felt like cutting them a break.

“They’re moving tofire on the colony site,” he said, but nobody could stop them. In afew seconds, the cruiser’s mains would be charged up and…

“Oh shit!” heyelled off channel, pushing hard on the control harness. “Stupidbastard!” he berated himself. “Could’ve taken the call at thatnice little church in Maine…”

He streaked toward thecruiser. “Lobster dinners, fall leaves…” He wasn’t seeingthat, though. In his mind’s eye, that adorable little girl in Unitywas tucking a flower behind his ear.

New England hardly evenseemed real anymore. That little girl and her family were very realand very much in danger.

Even in the shelter, alucky hit from a cruiser’s mains could kill them all. He pushed sohard on his controls he risked breaking the link.

He threw himself intothe path of the main guns, then pushed in toward the opening in thebow where they were housed. The ship seemed to balloon out like apufferfish as he raced toward it at maximum speed.

“Here goes nothing,”he muttered. Never was good at timing…

What does timing have to do with anything?Scylla’s voice asked in his head.

“What the hell?”Hennessy blurted. “Are you in my head?”

No. Neither of us are, shesaid calmly. You have, for the lack of a better metaphor,one foot in the cockpit and one foot in a higher dimension. Time hasno meaning here.

“Look I’m a littlebusy here…”

We always are. Shouldn’t you have hit by nowif timing is a thing?

“Well, I…”Damn! The ship seemedmotionless.

Careful!shewarned. You don’t want to slip away before you finalize acourse.

He realized heshould be aiming for the center barrel assembly. Any round firedafter his fighter had impacted there should vaporize against thedebris and putthe mains out of commission.

He corrected, hisheart nearly bursting out of his chest when the Deathstalkerraced closer for an instant.

And now, you can make your move,warrior-cleric. Timing is irrelevant, nothing more than the fourthsimplest coordinate in the Universe.

How are you here at Ragnarok?heasked her, realizing that time wasn’t the limiting factor he’dthought.

I’m not. We’re not having this conversationat any three-dimensional place in particular. Go now, while yourresolve is strong.

He went, slippinginto place behind the Deathstalker’sweapons officer an instant before his fighter impacted the bow. TheQuailu was opening his mouth to shout a warning at the ratingpressing the firing button.

Hennessy drovehis knife in through his enemy’s occipital plate, severing hismotor control but leaving his tele-cerebrallobes active. Horror radiated, sadness followed.

“Aces