Chapter 45

Battles in deep space can be very odd to watch. Normally, the battle is waged between opposing groups of massive ships that sit and beat the hell out of each other. One launches a missile barrage. The other fires lasers or catapults huge rocks at the other. This continues until one side flees or is utterly destroyed.

Never in the annals of cosmic warfare has a battle quite like this been fought. On one side, the aforementioned massive ships of war. On the other, a fleet of courier ships along with a swarm of lessor ships – space cycles to be precise. Oh, and one other ship, this one never before seen flying under its own power in the vacuum of space. Specifically, one 1920 vintage Buick truck. In and on it are five humans, formally from the Appalachian Mountains on Earth. The humans looked very much like they had brought a tiny knife to a gun fight.

***

“Do you know what you’re doing in there, Zeke?” Betty Sue demanded. She sat in a rocking chair in the back of the truck, resplendent in a grey ship suit.

“Shore do, Betty Sue,” Zeke said. He sat in the driver’s seat of the truck, maneuvering it towards Greklor’s flagship. “Grokmar taught me how to drive this here truck in space!” He sounded more than a little proud of that particular accomplishment.

“Are all of you breathing okay?” the voice of Grokmar sounded in the human’s ears. “Your vehicle was never designed to handle outer space. The force field Bobby John and I installed around the vehicle should be allowing you to breathe.”

“Stop yer jawing, Dirtfloor. Y’all are sounding just like an old woman,” Betty Sue said. “We can breathe just fine!”

“I am very pleased to hear that, Betty Sue,” Grokmar said, trying hard not to sound affronted. “Remember, you will be able to shoot your weapons out through the shield and it will provide you with some protection from enemy fire. It will not allow you to survive a direct hit from an enemy missile or laser beam or any other major impact.”

As if to punctuate Grokmar’s words, a missile came streaking toward the truck from Greklor’s ship. Zeke expertly swung the vehicle out of the missile’s path while Bobby John, who sat in the passenger’s seat, punched a button that shot a (much smaller) missile of their own at it.

The two missiles collided, exploding in a brilliant fireball.

“Wheeooo!” Jim Bob shouted from the back of the truck, waving a massive weapon over his head* (*It appears that the powerful mammalian arms surgically added to Jim Bob might have some extra features, after all). “That was mighty pretty.”

“Jim Bob, honey, just the same, I hope we don’t have too many more like that,” Carol Anne said, rubbing at her eyes. “Ah’m still seein’ spots.”

Jim Bob grabbed the girl around the waist with his free hand. “Ah’m sorry darlin’! Ah’m just havin’ such a good time out here after being cooped up in the ship for so long.”

“Please be careful,” Grokmar’s voice sounded again. “I have grown fond of you all and I do not want to lose you to this battle.”

“You just don’t want to find a new crew,” Betty Sue said.

“That is also true,” Grokmar admitted. “So, be careful and do not get yourselves killed.”

“That ain’t our plan a’tall, Seafloor. We’ll be back.” Betty Sue tapped the top of the truck’s cab with her weapon. “Come on, Zeke! Let’s make this Vice Chancellor fella sorry he ever heard of us!”

***

MegaDan watched the battle unfold. It wasn’t anything like what he had expected. The Space Cycles buzzed around the Galactic Fleet like bees. Laser and plasma blasters of various sizes seemed to be the weapons of choice for the gangs. They got close enough to the ships to use them, but it was like throwing pebbles at a mountain⁠* (*And mountains sometimes have a nasty habit of falling on you). The only thing they had going for them was their speed. The military couldn’t touch them.

As he watched, the Space Cyclists changed their tactics and began concentrating their fire on the communications arrays on the ships.

The brown delivery ships were having much better luck. Whenever they went toe-to-toe with the bigger, military ships, one of two things seemed to happen. Either the galactic ship fled or it was destroyed. Whoever those ships belonged to, they were a force to be reckoned with.

Charlie waved at him and pointed at a flashing light on the command chair.

MegaDan absently tapped the button. “This is MegaDan Scholes.”

“Hello, Mr. Scholes. I am the Chairman. Perhaps you have heard of me.”

The Chairman? What was he doing, calling in? More importantly, what was he doing here? “Hello, Sir. What can I do for you?”

“I think it is the other way around, Mr. Scholes. I believe I can do something for you.”

MegaDan shook his head. Corporate Types! “Sir, I don’t want to be rude, but I’m kind of in the middle of a battle right now.”

“Yes, I know,” The Chairman said. “And good for you for rounding up those gangs of miscreants.” The voice went silent for a moment. “They don’t seem to being doing very much good, do they?”

“Again, I don’t want to be rude, but how do you know that, Mr. Chairman?”

“Who do you think is commanding the vessels that are making such a mockery of the Galactic Fleet?” The Chairman asked matter-of-factly.

“That’s you? Wow!”

“Wow, indeed, Mr. Scholes. Now listen carefully. I believe we can work together to stop the Tyrant.”

“I’m listening.”

“If my ships go against Greklor’s ship, he will be destroyed and I want him alive to face justice. Your comrades seem woefully underpowered to defeat any of the ships individually. What I propose is, I have my ships carve a path to Greklor’s ship. Your troops need to board the ship and capture it. Only then do we stand any chance of capturing the Vice Chancellor.”

MegaDan thought about that. “It could work, Sir. If you want to get your ships to make a path, I’ll get in touch with my men.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Scholes. I won’t forget it.”

“Mr. Chairman, one question. Why do you have your own battle fleet…” MegaDan stopped speaking when he saw Charlie shaking his head. Communications with the Chairman had been severed.

“Charlie, please get me Bruce.”

It took a few minutes, but the image of the Space Cyclist eventually came up. His face was covered in sweat but his expression was jubilant. “What’s up bossman? I’m kind of busy here.”

“Sorry Bruce, but I need you and your gangs to do something for me. I was just contacted by the commander of the courier fleet. He’s going to get his ships to make a path directly to the Vice Chancellor’s ship. I want you all to capture that ship. Do not destroy it!”

Bruce looked a bit disappointed. “Don’t destroy his ship? What are we supposed to do then?”

“Just capture it. I don’t care how. We need Greklor alive.”

Bruce grinned. “That might just be fun. Leave it to us. Toodle loo.”

Bruce’s face was replaced by scenes of the battle once more.

“I just hope this works,” MegaDan said to himself.

***

A group of Corporation ships formed a spearhead and began moving toward Greklor’s flagship. At the front of the spear was the Buick, filled with hooting and hollering out-for-blood humans. Behind it buzzed a cloud of Space Cycle sports, each one piloted by rogues and cutthroats, led by the biggest pirate of all, Bruce.

Some Galactic Counsel ships were lucky and got out of the way, fleeing the battle as if their lives depended on it. Those ships that stayed and resisted were quickly destroyed leaving clouds of debris, some ship, some organic.

As the spearhead got further into the Galactic Fleet without casualties, more Galactic ships ran. In a matter of minutes there was nothing between the courier vessels and the Galactic flagship itself.

Missiles, lasers and particle beams struck out at the Corporate ships in an almost solid cloud of death. Energy struck and slashed the Corporate ships causing minor, almost imperceptible damage. The Space Cycle sport ships followed in the safety of their much stronger allies, waiting to strike. The humans stayed in the front and buzzed in and out of the web of death like angry hornets. The almost imperceptible bursts of weapon fire from the truck likewise struck at the enemy ships like the stings from a hornet on a water buffalo.

The flagship continued to rain death on the approaching Corporate ships which simply waited for it to run out of ammunition.

The first thing to stop was the ship’s missiles. A final one flashed across the distance and exploded harmlessly against one of the Corporate ship’s shields. The particle cannons were next. The generators exploded on the ship and then, finally, the laser cannons turned cherry red and died.

That was what the Space Cyclists were waiting for. Like a school of hungry piranha, they swarmed over the ship. Space suited figures burst out of the small ships and began cutting their way into the flagship from every side.

Greklor’s ship appeared doomed.

***

“Vice Chancellor! There are multiple hull breaches. We must abandon ship,” the ensign said.

Greklor’s fist crashed down on the command chair arm. “How dare they! I will kill them all!”

The ensign tried to grab the Vice Chancellor’s arm. “Sir, you must get to safety. There are too many of them.”

With a roar, Greklor grabbed the ensign by the arm and flung him across the room. The ensign crashed into the wall and lay groaning on the floor.

Greklor stood and looked at his stunned bridge crew. “Get everyone into the escape pods immediately. Abandon ship!” He grabbed the groaning ensign and dragged him to the captain’s capsule. “You have one last duty to perform. You will lead them away from me.” If the enemy were watching for him, they bloody well wouldn’t find him!

He tossed the ensign in and activated the launch cycle. Without waiting to see it go, he ran to the next capsule and buckled in. With a snarl, he slapped the launch button.

“Computer, set course for the third planet from this system’s star.” He may have lost this battle, but humanity would still pay. Oh yes, they would.

The computer, not one of the sentient models, set course and the capsule burst from the doomed flagship like a bee from a hive.