Past the Redline

Throttle Fifty-Five

The idea was simple. The Hercules had multiple missile launching sections, parts of the hull which could fold back to allow the ship to fire a self-guided payload. That nearly hid the number of missiles that the ship was carrying, which was, in actuality, very few.

Humanity had learned, eventually, that keeping explosives onboard a space-faring vessel was a bad idea. Some concessions had to be made for fuels, but eventually innovators discovered how to store these in less explosive forms, which could be mixed or changed just before they were properly used as propellant.

The same was later true for projectiles and missiles. Why store a warhead when you could store its separated components, then assemble it a moment before firing? It was far safer, and allowed a greater number of total ordnance to be stored in one place.

The Hercules’ missile hatches opened, all twelve of them. On the screen before Diana, dozens of yellow lines stretched out from somewhere above and behind her and arced across the capital.

There were a hundred and twelve targets left. That number dipped by two in the time Diana was looking. At the rate they were going, the race would have a clear winner in the space of a few minutes.

Diana pulled the trigger.

The Hercules rumbled as the first set of missiles took off. Something clunked within the ship as the second set was lined up, then it fired too. Then a third set, and a fourth.

Diana angled the ship back towards the city and pushed the throttle up. There were still interceptors behind her somewhere, and she suspected she was gaining a lot of attention at the moment.

The missiles weren’t designed to be obvious. They barely left any sort of trail, had internal electronics that didn’t communicate back to the Hercules at all, and they were coated in radar-absorbing materials that would make the more basic sort of detection system miss them outright.

Still, there was no missing the number of launches, or where they were coming from, and when things started to explode, Diana imagined that it wouldn’t be hard for people to point the finger to her as the culprit.

If she was going to be a target, then she’d be a fast-moving one.

“Initial target impact in five,” ChaOS informed her.

“Got it,” Diana said.

She glanced to the side as one of the first missiles she launched came zipping down from on high and rammed into the roof of an official-looking building. The building had a shield. That didn’t matter to the missile, which exploded with enough force that the shielding cracked and fire washed down onto the target.

Similar scenes were repeating themselves all over as her missiles rained down on-target all over.

Some were fired at by ground installations, and she saw a quick-acting racer blow one missile up a moment before they flew in a tight loop and opened fire at the target that missile was destined for themselves.

The Hercules stopped rumbling suddenly, and Diana let out a sigh as she didn’t need to worry so much about her flight. The last of the missiles was off.

“Mistress, several electronic locks, multiple pings, and we are being targeted by several laser arrays,” ChaOS said.

Diana glanced at her shield health readout. They’d flown through a few explosions, and she knew some debris had smacked against the shield already. As it was, the shield was still over ninety-percent. Lasers weren’t all that great in-atmosphere.

The next brace of missiles hit their targets, then the next. Racers all across the city started to move erratically. Their objectives were being blown up right in front of them. There was suddenly a mad rush. Formerly Cautious pilots threw caution to the wind because it was standing between them and any opportunity to make enough points to win.

Diana felt… she wasn’t sure. It felt a little dirty to be winning so easily, without much of a challenge at all.

Victory always tasted sweeter when it was clutched at the very last moment.

“Interceptors are reprioritising you,” ChaOS said.

“Right,” Diana said. She looked across the city, taking in what she could of it at the speed she was moving at. It looked decent enough. A world filled with people whose day she had probably rocked in the worst way.

“Mistress?”

“Sorry, what?” Diana asked.

“Mistress, I’ve noticed something disturbing. When we arrived in-system, I left a small buoy near the jump-gate. It’s been detecting ships moving through the system.”

“Other racers?” Diana asked.

“I doubt it, Mistress. The ship’s tonnage and forms suggest warships. I suspect they’re of Federation make.”

A few possibilities flashed through Diana’s mind. Pirates, a third faction who’d stolen Federation ship designs, the Federation itself… She didn’t like any of those possibilities. “Right, we’re pulling away from the planet,” she said. She pulled the yoke back hard and grunted as the Hercules flew upwards in a tight vertical arc.

The fight against the clutch of gravity slowed her down a little, but she pressed on even as smaller, lighter craft flew up and tried to catch up.

“ChaOS, we might suddenly find ourselves very unpopular,” Diana said.

“That isn’t terribly unusual when working with you, Mistress,” ChaOS said.

“Uh-huh,” she replied. With one hand still on the yoke, she opened a control screen and flicked over to a comms menu. She had plenty of options for who to call. She chose all of them, outgoing signals only. “Filter those who can reply,” Diana said.

“Who’s replies should I accept?” ChaOS asked.

Diana shrugged. “Anybody I know or that you think is important enough,” she said.

She opened her comms, blasting the signal out hard enough that it was like setting off dynamite in a fine-china shop. “Hey everyone and everything. Diana Slowbane here. I just made a whole heap of points planet-side and I thought I’d run back with my winnings, but I noticed something fun lurking on the edge of the system.”

She zoomed out on her map so that it encompassed the entire planet, its surroundings, and then all the way to the edge of the system. ChaOS helpfully highlighted the group he’d noticed.

Some forty vessels, all packed together in a neat three-dimensional formation. The largest of the ships were four cruiser-sized vessels near the centre. Those were surrounded by frigates and destroyers.

It was a force that might have been about half the size of the Bolgian blockade fleet.

They didn’t look like anyone out to participate in the race.

“There’s a whole fleet of ships rushing in towards the planet. I’m getting very little back from scans; I’m guessing they’re running on a ballistic course, possibly with some stealth countermeasures around them. They’re being real sneaky is what I’m coming to. Anybody care to elaborate about them?”

The first reply came from Zil Rossi. “You’re alive?” she asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Diana replied.

“Because you exploded quite spectacularly,” Abatrath said a moment later. “It’s nice to see you have so many tricks. You’re always surprising. Now, if you could stop surprising me, that would be very much appreciated.”

Diana sniffed. “No promises. I like delivering surprises. It’s fun.”

“Ohh, this is exciting!” Yu’s voice burst into the call. “Diana Slowbane, currently in the lead—but not by all that much!—chatting with everyone with the organs to listen! And what’s this? A stealthed Federation fleet coming out of the void of space to spice things up!”

“Do you know about them?” Diana asked.

There was a pregnant pause, then a voice Diana didn’t recognize spoke up. “This is what the Federation does,” they said. “Use the race to bring a planet to disarray, then assault it in another underhanded manner. Their assault isn’t usually so physical though. And here we are, caught unaware and unprepared.”

“And who are you?” Diana asked.

“I am Majihag, currently the elected ruler of Bolgia. Though I doubt the title will endure another rotation. I know I ask much, but would you be so kind as to refrain from destroying any more of our infrastructure? We might well need it in the coming hours.”

Diana hesitated, weighed her options, then shrugged. She went with the option that sounded the most fun. “Sure. Hey, how many points was a cruiser worth again?”

“Fifty,” Abatrath said. “Are you planning on backstabbing the Bolgian’s while they listen?”

“The Bolgians? No, of course not. The point tally doesn’t specify that the ships need to be Bolgian, does it?”

Another long pause, then Abatrath’s laughter filtered in.

“You’re insane,” Zil Rossi said.

“I can take ‘em,” Diana said. “Just need to get in close. Anyone else interested?”

“Oh! This is going to be a race to remember!” Yu shouted. Or maybe the alien just spoke and that was their default volume.

She wasn’t sure she could take on an entire fleet, not even a little one. But they’d be busy with the Bolgians, and she suspected that finding out would be a lot of fun.