Incursion Protocol

I kicked up the throttle for a hot and heavy burn, pushing us back hard. I was pressed against my rapidly disintegrating seat, while Faleun clung to it for dear life.

“We can’t outrun them,” I grunted, explaining why we couldn’t just point the ship toward deep space and blast away. “They don’t have squishy passengers like us. They’d just out-accelerate us and catch up easily. I’ve never fought a swarm of drones before, but the concept is solid. Treat them like missiles: depend on point defense, outmaneuver them, or tank the damage.”

“And we’re going with the outmaneuver option?”

“We’re gonna try!” I said, pulling back the throttle and activating the reaction controls to spin the ship around and face our new friends. “Options are slim since we don’t have a point defense system. And anything more than the smallest scratch from one of those drones, and we’re gonna light up the sky for any Slipscale who happens to be looking up.”

Now that I thought about it, what I was trying wasn’t such a bad idea. Constantly accelerating away would eat up a lot of their relative velocity, giving us more time to pick them off. The problem? The Strommask Test Vehicle only had one crappy Dulox laser, and its firing arc was pathetically limited. Why wouldn’t they make all their hardpoints rotate 360 degrees? Must be a hardware issue, or just bad design. Just because The System hands you blueprints for a space laser doesn’t mean you can build them correctly.

The swarm hit sensor range, and my console flooded with dots.

“The nice thing about lasers,” I commented to Faleun, “is that in close range like this, they’re basically point-and-click. Instant travel time, and great against lightly armored targets. Perfect for a situation like this.”

With a few quick swipes, I configured the Cinek Targeting System to automatically fire at anything in the laser’s arc. The laser buzzed to life, spitting out pulses of red light toward the approaching swarm. I couldn’t make out the drones yet, they were too small, lost against the backdrop of the blue planet behind them.

“Unfortunately for us, it won’t be that easy. A couple dozen? We’d be fine. But a couple hundred? I guess that’s why that porcupine ship dropped so many quills. Confuse and overwhelm by sheer numbers.” I glanced at Faleun. “You following any of this?”

“What’s a laser?”

“Well, it’s a- hold on.” I gunned the ship forward, killing our backwards momentum after a few moments, then rocketed us toward the swarm of drones at a steady 1g. “It’s a bunch of light, amplified and coalesced into a single beam.”

The sharp, quill-like drones were now clearly visible, hurtling toward us. The laser above buzzed and zapped, picking off the occasional drone, sending small explosions puffing up in the cloud ahead as the targeting system locked onto optimal targets. Our intercept path showed that the nearest drones would reach us in about twenty seconds.

“Pretty ingenious, actually. Amplify the beam enough to send it down glass tubes, and now you can transmit data at the speed of light.”

I accessed the targeting system and redirected the laser to focus on a section of the drone cloud up and to the left. Explosions erupted in the targeted area as the system honed in.

“Amplify it enough to punch a hole through metal, and now you’ve got a decent weapon. Hold on, again.”

I nudged the throttle up, sending gouts of flame behind us, then engaged the control thrusters along the ventral side and starboard length. In simpler terms, we were thrusting forward while also moving up and to the left. I could manage a rudimentary version of this before The System injected all this knowledge into my head, but normally we let the computer handle it, manually maneuvering in 3D space along all six axes isn't exactly easy.

We shot through the gap the laser had cut in the drone cloud, debris smattering across the hull, flaring red dots on the damage display. My teeth ground together as I made microadjustments to the control stick, narrowly avoiding a drone the laser had missed. A quill buzzed across the side of our hull, barely scraping past us.

Yes!” I exclaimed, punching the air in celebration.

“That was close. Are we out of danger?” Faleun asked, her voice wavering slightly.

“For a few minutes,” I said. “We got lucky with that last pass. Whatever their programming, they seem to be designed for larger opponents, massing together in a wedge to punch through thick armor with hundreds of successive hits. We managed to bore a hole in the edge of the pattern and slip through. I’m sure they’ll adjust, and the next wave won’t let us get by so easily.”

I adjusted course, trying to take advantage of the slight breather I’d created while the drones reoriented themselves for another run.

“Do we head back down to the ocean? Keep hoping they’ll miss?”

“No. They’d catch us easily in the atmosphere, and I don’t think they’ll miss again. They’ve got our number.”

“So what do we do?”

“We run,” I said matter-of-factly.

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing this whole time?”

“We run,” I said with a sly grin, “but this time, we’ll make sure they hit what we want them to.”

My grin widened. Now that was a perfectly vague, confident statement, the kind an action hero says right before it cuts to the next scene where everything goes to plan, the damsel swoons, and-

“What does that mean? What are we going to do?” Faleun asked, clearly annoyed by the vagueness.

I sighed, exasperated. “Come on, you’re ruining it! That was supposed to be a cool one-liner where you’re in the dark until all the dots line up, and then we kick ass.”

“Do you not think I should be privy to your plans? We are in this together, after all.”

“You’re right,” I conceded. “If you’re sticking around with me and the ship, you’ll be doing more than hanging on and hoping I don’t screw up and turn us into space dust. But fine, it’s rude to leave you in the dark, so here’s what I’m thinking…”

I explained the hastily thrown-together idea, and she eyed me skeptically. If she had a human eyebrow, it’d be raised, but instead, her eyes just narrowed.

“And how do you know all that?” she asked.

“You ever get a joke skill from The System? Like it’s mocking you? Giving you something you could’ve used hours earlier?”

“No,” she said, flatly. “I think you’re anthropomorphizing The System too much.”

“Just wait and see,” I said, narrowing my own eyes. “Now that you’re an Invader, I bet it’ll start messing with you too.”

She just shrugged.

“Alright, can we please run through it from the top again?”

“Do we have to?”

“If it doesn’t work, we’re dead anyway. Play along, please?”

“Ugh, fine,” she muttered, crossing her arms and speaking in the most monotone, placating voice. “Do we head back down to the ocean, do we hope they continue to miss?”

“No!” I said, firm and commanding. “They’d catch us easily. I’m afraid they’ve got our number.”

“Then whatever shall we do?” she said, still in the flat tone.

“We run,” I said, sly smile creeping onto my face, “but this time, we’ll make sure they hit what we want them to.”

And scene.

We ran. I had pushed us to the limit, and any more would have left us unconscious lumps at the back of the ship. But looking at the console and the ever-approaching drones, I thought we’d just barely make it. It was going to be a tight race, but we’d reach the elevator with a few moments to spare.

That cheap shot by The System? Yeah, I took it. I probably shouldn’t have. I should’ve just taken Light Spacecraft Pilot level 3 and Laser Weapon Proficiency. Upgrading the pilot skill had helped a lot; I wasn’t sure I could have managed the RCS maneuvers without it. I should’ve taken the weapon skill too. I had a new laser rifle and was flying a ship with a big, clunky laser. It made sense, but it didn’t feel right, and I passed on it.

What did feel right? Space Elevator Mechanics. Stupid, I know, but the damn thing was still standing. Sure, it was belching smoke and fire, but other than some fried computer parts, we hadn’t destroyed it. Just put it out of commission for a while. To take it down once and for all, make the Dulox and Solas think about cutting their losses? That space elevator had to go, for good. So I took the dumb skill, and maybe, just maybe it’d help us out of this mess.

That’s why we were seeing the edges of our vision blur as we accelerated toward the elevator’s counterweight, the station hanging in space where the Dulox docked to haul away the coral mined by the Slipscale. Thanks to the injection of knowledge from the Space Elevator Mechanics skill, everything had clicked. The schematics I had seen back in the Dulox control room now made sense.

I flipped the ship and began our braking thrust.

“We only get one shot at this,” I said, as the g-forces started to ease and we caught our breath. I really needed to invest in a lot of things for this ship if I survived: extra stations for the crew, crash couches, more weapons, armor, the works. “If we miss, we’re dead.”

“Do not miss,” Faleun said, awkwardly patting my shoulder.

I grunted and focused on the console. The station glinted ahead, an occasional blast of yellow light flickering underneath. It was a modified version of a standard model, with most of the changes made to integrate the ugly Dulox tech. I figured it was just a way to cut costs. Why bring in top-grade equipment when you can make your underlings cobble together their own junk? Solas, you cheap bastard.

Standard procedure when the ground station was attacked or malfunctioned was to go on high alert, pulling all combat-ready ships into a holding pattern outside the counterweight. That way, they could defend against incoming attacks or deal with issues if the malfunction spread to the station’s systems.

I let out a breath as I spotted the glint of ships surrounding the station. “Looks like we’re a go,” I said, nodding toward the station, “they’re all out and about, waiting for the ‘all clear’ signal.”

“The ocean doesn’t allow things to remain where you leave them, how does something that large stay so still in the sky?”

“Geostationary orbit,” I said, gesturing toward the station. “They put in a lot of effort to keep it in place, as well as positioning it at just the right distance to have to make minimal changes. It will make more sense the more you learn about all this.” I gestured vaguely at everything.

“Does that mean everything will line up?”

“I hope so,” I said, eyes locked on the console, waiting for the drones to hit sensor range. “A lot could go wrong. Solas might’ve changed the procedures, the station could drift, the drones might not be as relentless as they were earlier, or we could have some ship malfunction despite my incredible piloting. So, you know, basically everything.”

I double-checked my calculations and the plotted course one last time. If the station was exactly where it should be and everything went right, we were in the clear. The console beeped, and the front edges of the drone swarm appeared on the sensors. I had been correct: they had shifted from their wedge formation to an evenly spaced pattern, multiple layers deep. No chance my earlier trick would work again. I waited a few heartbeats, letting the drones get closer, flexed my grip on the control stick, and pushed the throttle forward.

We blasted ahead, the drones right on our tail. If my timing was right, they would be on us just as we hit the finish line, close enough to keep them from breaking off, their target still in sight.

The station loomed larger in the viewscreen as we shot toward it. The drones were closing in fast, outpacing us with each passing second. The console screamed warnings, and butterflies churned in my stomach. We were past the point of no return. There was no time to adjust and no power left to change course. We were on a collision course with the station, and nothing could stop it.

I gritted my teeth and made the smallest adjustment to the stick as the hangar door came into view. What had been a tiny dot moments before now filled the cockpit glass, growing larger with terrifying speed. At the last possible second, we shot into the hangar, flying through the station with barely a moment to spare.

The inside was a blur of flashing lights, control panels, and hanging catwalks, all streaking past in a dizzying rush. The walls seemed to close in around us as we tore through the narrow passage. Every nerve in my body screamed for me to brake, to slow down before we smashed into something, but I kept the throttle open. The ship shuddered violently as debris from the drones exploded behind us, rattling through the station like a chain reaction. Metal beams, conduits, and loose equipment flew past the cockpit windows, some spinning wildly as we shot by.

For a moment, I thought we’d clipped something as one of the stray beams spun dangerously close, sending a spray of sparks across the viewscreen. But it missed, and we kept going, rocketing through the belly of the station.The light at the far end grew closer, expanding rapidly until it filled the cockpit. With a final, teeth-rattling burst, we shot out of the other side of the station, free and clear.

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding as I vectored the ship up and away. The feeling of rumbles and explosions thundered behind us, but we were through. I silently thanked whichever deity was listening for Solas sticking to the standard model. The station had one long docking corridor, allowing for ships to enter on one side, continue along as cargo was loaded, and exit without any complicated maneuvers. Gotta keep the assembly line moving in the most efficient manner. Typically the hanger doors would open and close as needed, but in an emergency, ships streamed out both ends.

The fun wasn’t over just yet. I cut the thrust and spun us around, the targeting system firing the laser again, catching the last few drones that had survived by being right on our tail through the bedlam. Four quill-like drones exploded in quick succession, each one bursting into clouds of debris. The last drone came dangerously close, but just as it seemed like it might punch our ticket, it exploded as well, sending a shockwave that rocked the ship and sent us tumbling.

Lights flickered in the ship as I pushed myself away from the console, my face sticky with blood. I slumped back into the pilot seat and sighed, the sound of alerts echoing through the cockpit, accompanied by the faint hiss of air escaping nearby. What remained of the station came into view as my ship tumbled lazily through space.

The station was a mangled ruin, barely recognizable. Large sections had been blown apart, leaving twisted metal hanging loosely where corridors and docking bays had once been. Gas and debris vented into the vacuum, creating thin, ghostly trails. Jagged beams jutted out from the wreckage, while smaller fragments drifted aimlessly in all directions. The drones had done their job well: what was left was little more than a floating graveyard of shattered systems and fractured hulls.

“You okay?” I mumbled, leaning my head back against the seat and closing my eyes.

“Still alive,” she replied from somewhere in the jumble at the back of the ship.

A different bleep came from the console, and I pried open one sticky eye.

“Incoming hail.”