“Yeah, probably,” Runstom said. “Time to play a little rope-a-dope,” he added, quietly.
“What-a-what?”
“Rope-a-dope. We lie here helpless and let them get close. We gotta make sure we hit ’em hard. If they slow down to get close to us, the auto-turret will have a much easier time blasting those bastards to bits.”
Jax nodded, not so sure of the plan, but not willing to question the officer right at the moment. They both sat in silence, holding their breath for the next several seconds. One of the red arrows slowly ticked toward the center of the contact map.
“Okay,” Runstom said to himself. “Right … about … NOW!” He slapped a button on his panel. Nothing happened, as far as Jax could tell. Runstom slapped it again. “What the fuck!” He slapped it again. The red arrow ticked closer, but no weapons fire was incoming.
On Jax’s terminal, a message appeared repeatedly, in sync with Runstom’s frantic button-slapping.
UNABLE TO ACTIVATE AUTO-TURRET. AUTO-TURRET PROPERTY “POWER LEVEL” CURRENT VALUE: 0. REQUIRED VALUE FOR ACTIVATION [1..9].
UNABLE TO ACTIVATE AUTO-TURRET. AUTO-TURRET PROPERTY “POWER LEVEL” CURRENT VALUE: 0. REQUIRED VALUE FOR ACTIVATION [1..9].
UNABLE TO ACTIVATE AUTO-TURRET. AUTO-TURRET PROPERTY “POWER LEVEL” CURRENT VALUE: 0. REQUIRED VALUE FOR ACTIVATION [1..9].
> CONFIG-AUTO-TURRET
CHOOSE FROM MUTABLE PROPERTIES:
1 -> POWER LEVEL
2 -> TARGET PREFERENCE
> 1
ENTER NEW VALUE FOR PROPERTY “POWER LEVEL” [0/0..9]:
> 9
VERIFY ON AUTO-TURRET CHANGE PROPERTY “POWER LEVEL” FROM “0” TO “9” [Y/N]:
> Y
“Try—” Jax started to say, but the ship’s sharp, electronic voice interrupted him.
“Auto-turret activated at power level nine.”
Runstom slapped the button again.
“Target acquired.”
High-pitched screaming erupted from somewhere above the cockpit and the viewport lit up with blinding white light. A series of thundering explosions quickly followed and their personnel vessel shuddered and began to spin in a sickening manner, sending the stars spiraling in no particularly identifiable pattern. Jax was still strapped in, but he grabbed onto his station and held on for dear life.
“That was too close!” Runstom said, finally getting the ship to stabilize by wrenching on the throttle. He leaned over to look at the contact map. Only one arrow remained, still fairly distant from the center. “What the – I think we vaporized him!”
“Warning,” the electronic voice said soothingly. “Battery level is now critical. Auto-turret deactivated.”
“Oops,” Jax said.
“What? What do you mean, ‘oops’?”
“Well,” Jax said timidly. “I may have jacked up the power on the auto-turret a little too high.” He looked down at his screen.
UNABLE TO ACTIVATE AUTO-TURRET. AUTO-TURRET PROPERTY “POWER LEVEL” CURRENT VALUE: 9. REQUIRED VALUE FOR ACTIVATION [0..2].
He reconfigured the turret for power level two, the most it could handle at the moment. “We’ll be—”
“Auto-turret activated at power level two.”
“I don’t like the sounds of that,” Runstom said. He turned their ship around until the arrow was in the forward section of the contact map. They could see the Space Waste fighter ship in the distance through their viewport. Jax wasn’t really sure if it was getting closer, but he had to assume it was. “I wish this stupid auto-turret could target a specific part of that fighter,” the officer continued. “Like his thrusters. Then we’d be on a little more even ground.”
“I saw a target preference setting somewhere,” Jax said, tapping at the keyboard. “Okay, it’s set to target ‘engines/thrusters’.”
“Target acquired. Error. Unable to identify adequate line of sight to targeting preference. Resuming default firing mode.”
The high-pitched screech emitted from above them again, but this time it sounded small and distant. A streak of white light appeared, originating from the top of the viewport and fading into the distance ahead of them. A few seconds later, streaks of light came from the other direction, sporadically, all around their view. Popping sounds could be heard here and there and the cockpit shuddered and jiggled.
“So much for taking out their thrusters,” Runstom muttered.
“What are our chances?”
“Well.” Runstom’s mouth twisted around as if he were chewing on his thoughts. “This personnel ship has a lot of armor, especially front-side. It can take a beating head-on. Once this guy gets close though, he’ll probably bullet right past us, make a quick maneuver and hit us before we can get turned around to face him. Probably dive under us and hit us from down there where the auto-turret can’t get to him.”
“Communications are off-line,” the ship said as pulses of laser fire pounded away at it.
“So,” Jax said. “Not so good.”
“Nope.” Runstom waggled the throttle in frustration. “If we could just get close enough to Terro’s gravity, we could land.” The view bobbed and slid side to side, slowly. “These damn stabilizers are only giving us rotational movement. I need thrust!”
“Warning. Proximity alert.”
They looked at the contact map. Two more red arrows came in from the right side. Jax leaned over to look out the viewport off to the starboard. “There’s two more ships coming in. Looks like they’re going to meet up with this guy. Maybe come at us with full force? Triple team?”
Runstom was quiet. Jax saw a look of hopelessness cross the other man’s face.
The small barrage that had been peppering the personnel vessel stopped. They could see the fighter now it was so close. It turned off to face the other two ships, and they could see streaks of light flying between them from left to right and back.
“What the hell?” they both said in unison.
After a few dozen seconds, the fighter peeled off and began to head in their general direction again, its movement erratic.
“I think he’s trying to out-maneuver torpedoes,” Runstom said as they watched. “Wait a sec – the red arrows – they’re hostile to this ship, because this is a Space Waste ship! Those must be ModPol patrol ships! The ones that were trying to catch up with us back at the superliner!”
A moment later, explosions appeared across the fighter and the two men cheered.
“Target disabled.”
“Shit,” Runstom said. “Looks like they’re going to bring us in after all.” He looked over at the operator, frowning. “Sorry, Jax.”
“I suppose I should be happy we’re still alive,” he said grimly, but he couldn’t convince himself of that argument.
“Target acquired,” the computer said.
“What?” Runstom’s eyes widened. “Those are friendlies! Tell that goddamn thing those are friendlies!”
Jax hammered away at the keyboard. He tried to ignore the screeching of their auto-turret and the sudden alarming sound of incoming laser fire. Rather than trying to configure the contact settings, he managed to set the auto-turret back to power level zero.
“Auto-turret disabled.”
“This is unbelievable,” Runstom said. “I can’t get the fucking com on-line. We’re sitting ducks and we have no way of hailing them.” He looked up. “At least we stopped shooting at them. Once they realize we’re disabled, they should just try to—”
“Warning. Proximity alert.”
“It’s a torpedo!” Jax yelled, looking at the contact-map holo.
Runstom grabbed the stick and started turning the ship. “Our thrusters are already blown. If we can get the torpedo to hit back there, it will do the least amount of damage. We might be able to keep Life Support.”
“Warning,” the computer said. “Collision imminent. Impact in twenty seconds.”
A few minutes later, they were streaking through the atmosphere of Terroneous. It was all the time Runstom had put in with the flight simulator back at the precinct that gave him some tricks to try with the stabilizer thrusters. By combining that with a whole bag of blind luck, they were actually headed in the right direction. The torpedo blast at the rear of the vessel had sent them hurling through space at an angle, like a colored billiard ball getting whacked by the cue ball. Runstom managed to steer them enough toward the moon to catch its gravity. Had they missed it, they would have gone straight on to being caught in Barnard-5’s gravity, where they would have been crushed under their own weight as they approached the unstable surface of the gas giant.