Cyborg Assault

“I would have informed you if it had been.”

The Praetor glared at the weapons officer.

The thick-necked officer returned the Praetor’s stare. His name was Canus and he had a burn-scar on his left cheek. The burn-scar was composed of angry red flesh, raised flesh with little ridges. As the Praetor stared at him, the madness in Canus’s eyes lessened and soon he dropped his fierce gaze.

“Lord,” Canus added, although there was still truculence in his voice.

The Praetor knew they were all under tremendous pressure. He also knew that he must remain strong— stronger than the others. A Highborn could climb rank without harm to his life expectancy. Sinking in levels often entailed his violent death.

The Praetor rubbed his fingertips against the polished steel of his armrest. Then, with a sudden movement, he opened a ship-wide channel.

“Attention, Thutmosis III crewmen. This is the Praetor speaking. We have achieved the impossible and repaired our engines and ship-structure to withstand the coming deceleration. There is a possibility that the Jovian premen will attempt to attack us at our most vulnerable moment. If that occurs, I assure you we shall let them know they have been in battle with the Highborn. Our weapons are ready. If they prove insufficient, we shall ram our foes. We will not sink quietly into the dark night of oblivion. Rather we will blaze with glory against any who dare set themselves against us. The universe thought it could conquer us and defeat our fierce will. The universe is now discovering that we are the superior form of life. We shall do more than survive. We shall dominate the Jovian System and bring it into the Empire of our devising. You have made me proud. You are proud soldiers. Together, we shall attack our problem head-on in the truest style of the superior being.”

The Praetor raised his massive hand and made a decisive gesture.

A pale officer licked his lips. Then the officer’s big hands roved over his board. He engaged the fusion core, and the ship’s engines fired with violent life. Every Highborn aboard the crippled Thutmosis III found himself slammed against his acceleration couch.

The Praetor, Canus and one other Highborn on the bridge, shouted wildly, roaring at the universe. Their emotions had overloaded and they bled their tension in the only way they knew, with a predator’s roar of aggression.

Despite the massive Gs, the Praetor raised his fist, shaking it at the universe, hoping his derelict ship could survive the horrible forces pressing upon it.

-18-

Alarms rang in the Descartes. On the ship’s main screen blazed a bright dot, the brightest object in the region of banded Jupiter. The glowing dot was more luminous than the Sun or any of the nearby moons, and certainly brighter than the stars.

“Give me an analysis,” Yakov said, who had lurched forward to stare at the teleoptically-enhanced sight.

The hunched officers worked furiously, while Marten frowned at the glowing dot.

“It approaches from out-system,” Rhea said.

“Is it cyborg reinforcements?” asked Yakov.

“I have a match on the engine’s heat-signature,” Rhea said. She looked up, surprised. “Force-Leader, it’s a SU missile-ship.”

Yakov massaged his forehead. It was a rare indication that he was under stress.

“Their speed is excessive,” Rhea said. She touched the blue medal dangling from her choker. Then she went to work. Soon, she said, “Given their deceleration rate, it will take them many orbits around Jupiter before they could conceivably come to a halt.”

Yakov stared at the white dot.

So did Marten, as he thought about the Storm Assault Missile.

“The ship’s energy output has increased,” Rhea said. “And the ship’s heading has veered. It will take them….” She madly typed keys. “Force-Leader, it will take them ten thousand kilometers from the Rousseau.”

“How long will that take?” snapped Yakov.

“In approximately three point four hours.”

Yakov swiveled toward Marten. “Do you think it’s an actual SU missile-ship?”

“Not if it came from out-system,” Marten said.

“Who drives it then?” Yakov asked.

Marten spoke to Rhea. “Given its flight path, can you calculate its point of origin?”

She stared at him. She had beautiful eyes. They were green, and larger than ordinary Jovian eyes.

Abruptly, she turned to her screen, typing quickly. “It must have come from Uranus.”

“Are you sure it’s a military vessel?” Yakov asked.

“The engine’s heat-signature is a one hundred percent match to a SU missile-ship,” Rhea said. “It must be a warship.”

“Why would those from Uranus send a warship here now?” Yakov said.

“Their secret service must have stolen SU ship designs,” Marten said. “Maybe they meant to slip such vessels into Inner Planets.”

“Why?” asked Yakov.

“If cyborgs are here,” Marten said, “maybe cyborgs also attacked the Uranus System.”

“And?” asked Yakov.

Marten glanced at Rhea. She dropped her gaze, and after a moment, she turned back to her board.

“Are they fugitives from a successful cyborg invasion?” Marten asked.

“The assertion is preposterous,” Rhea said. She brushed curls from her eyes. “The barbarian could as easily suggest cyborgs commandeered the ship. The truth is otherwise.”

“How can you know any of that?” Marten asked.

She gestured angrily. “It has an SU heat-signature and it comes from Uranus. Why couldn’t it be an SU warship returning from a diplomatic mission? That is the logical deduction.”

Marten shook his head. “That it’s here now at this juncture indicates something else. If it belongs to Social Unity, why stop in the Jupiter System? The ship must contain more cyborgs.”

As Yakov stared at the main screen, his eyes glittered. “No. That isn’t a cyborg ship.”

“It seems like the likeliest explanation,” Marten said.

Yakov shook his head. “If you’re right about the Rousseau and Athena Station, it shows that the cyborgs have been acting secretly. This new ship blazes its presence. Everyone in the system will note it. And that would be contrary to a hidden attack. Therefore, the new ship contains something other than cyborgs.”

“It is mere supposition that cyborgs are in our system,” Rhea pointed out.

Marten made a harsh sound. “Cyborgs attacked my shuttle.”

“The Arbiter didn’t believe you,” Rhea said. “Why should anyone else?”

“The Arbiter fled his pod for a reason,” Marten said. “The Rousseau sprayed a gel- cloud to hide itself for a reason. Its com-officer said there was fusion core damage, but you all saw it earlier. That was battle-damage. They lied to us. Athena Station ordered the Descartes away from the stricken ship. Give me a good reason for those actions.”

“He is an out-system barbarian,” Rhea told Yakov. “His motivations are hidden and likely antithetical to the Dictates.”

“It might be time to active the Zenos,” Yakov said softly.

Rhea clutched her slender throat. “No! You cannot attack a Guardian Fleet warship.”

“If I use the drones,” Yakov said, his eyes tight, “it might inadvertently begin the secession. And if cyborgs are here it’s time for system unity, not discord.”

“It’s time to attack,” Marten said. “If the new ship brings reinforcements, you must strike before the cyborgs