The Province Of Terrans

A Starshatter adventure

(Art by Robert Stein)

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Sci-Friday is here, my Terrans!

Boom Time is upon the unsuspecting Pirates and they shall learn how to fly… without engines. More, Vinson and his troops are about to deliver some wholesome doom, of the shooty, boomy kind. Enjoy the beginning of the end of this VYOA.

Enjoy this chapter and keep voting, my friends. As you see I have written a number of Tanka for Terran-Tuesday. The more and longer your comments, the more ammunition I have for said poem.

For those of you new to VYOA, this is a story of interactive nature, where you, the reader, choose one of three paths standing before the main character. Your vote is the guiding force of this adventure!

With one week between the chapters, there is more than enough time for you to make your decision. Share the story with your friends on Substack, see if they support your choice or vote a different way. Voting cycle will end each Thursday so I may have enough time to complete the chapter.

Those who like can discuss the protagonist’s options and I promise to answer your questions concerting Terran culture, philosophy, and worldbuilding to the best of my ability!

If you like what you read, consider buying any of my published works.

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Index: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

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Chapter 12

Engineless flight

Captain Zhur watched with ever-increasing confusion how his system operators failed to process one new scan data-pack after another. Even with the Pingers in place, the damned planetoid’s anomalous zones interfered with his spaceship’s otherwise powerful sensor array.

“Beam command, deactivate our main battery. Main engineering, transfer the excess power to the sensor array. Sys Ops, chain the turrets’ heatsinks and make sure our mainframe does not melt into slag!” – Zhur spat out one anxious command after another, and his officers shared startled looks.

They’ll get over it, he thought to himself, as soon as the Pingers proved his suspicion!

Zhur’s order made his Gunnery Chief, a gruff ex-Taz’aran Navy officer, wince. Nevertheless, the man obeyed with silent hesitance and he motioned the gunners to switch off their cannons. Unable to open fire if an enemy warship should attack, PCS Wyrmblade drifted in perfect orbit above the planetoid. Of course, Zhur didn’t even imagine switching off his vessel’s point defense batteries or energy shields.

That would be beyond daft.

“Utilizing the extra power, Captain.” – reported one of his Sys Ops – “Sensor array recalibrated, we are emitting a focused scan pulse now.”

Displayed on the bridge’s main holo-screen, he witnessed how the scanning array bathed the planetoid. The empowered beams pierced through some, if not all the interference, and were further projected and focused by the Pingers. Indeed, there were more and stronger anomalies down there, yet the nifty devices did their job. A number of underground cavernous areas were immediately detected and his Sys Ops Chief exclaimed:

“Sir, our sensors have picked up a number of life-signs!”

“I was always right; see, they are hiding inside that moun-!” – Zhur’s victorious sneer was unceremoniously interrupted by the second Sys Ops’s confused report:

“Impossible! This data shows have hundreds of armed to the teeth soldiers... just sitting there, waiting...”

“What?!” – the captain gnashed his teeth – “Run another scan and look for sensor ghosts.”

Minutes passed, and Director Berul’s mercs reported their successful deployment near the landing pad. They secured a field camp for themselves and unloaded their gear, when the Sys Ops projected the results of his second scan on the screen. If it was even possible, now there were more soldiers lurking underground. A dozen towering tactical armor mecha, tanks, artillery, and even mobile anti-orbital railguns!

“Sir... they are successfully spoofing us!” – disheartened mumbled his Chief Sys Ops – “Which means that they have skilled engineers among them. Only a specialist can reconfigure a complicated piece of equipment like a Pinger.”

“Recalibrate the sensor array and try again.” – the captain ordered, as he tried real hard to keep his raging emotions under control.

“But, Sir,” – protested the Sys Ops Chief – “even with our main battery heatsinks linked, that would overheat the sensors.”

Zhur gave him a long, scathing glare.

“Recalibrating...” – said the specialist, ill-concealed anger felt in her reply.

They looked at the main screen, which once again displayed a similar result. Hundreds of armed soldiers, machines, cannon, all underground and ready to fight. Then the nearly overheated sensor array was deactivated, lest the heat cause damage.

PCS Wyrmblade was blind and deaf until its main heatsink cycled the excess heat.

Precious star-minutes, during which Zhur had to rely on comm link reports for operational observation and command.

“Captain, I suggest we reactivate our main guns.” – Interjected the Gunnery Chief with a snide grin – “We can sustain continuous beamfire for a full eleven star-minutes. Blasting these sensor readings out of existence would not be an issue.”

Silence once more captured the bridge and this time, Zhur saw his officers looking not his way, but the Gunnery Chief’s. He heard that the three star warriors who escaped the ambush and he thought lost had actually survived. It was entirely conceivable that this scheming Taz’aran could’ve hidden them. Perhaps even now the furtive bastard plotted to take his command from him!

Continuous failure gained you a beam to the head and not just in the Taz’aran Navy.

“No.” – was Zhur’s answer.

“Sir, our sensor readings, doctored as they are, do not show any energy shielding whatsoever. Orbital fire will be succe-” – The Gunnery Chief doubled down, his otherwise well-polished, subservient tone customary for the Taz’aran Navy replaced with sneer.

“You will obey.” – and the captain casually rested his hand on his heavy beam pistol.

“For sure.” – and, as customary for the Clanners, the Taz’aran saluted Zhur by hitting his magboots together – “Yet, it is my duty as a bridge officer to avow my protest. This is a waste of our precious resources, Sir.”

“Warriors die. Vehicles get destroyed. I don’t have to tell you, a Taz’aran, that this is the way of conquest.” – began Zhur, who’ve now lost control of his anger – “Moreover, the contract I secured for us pays exceedingly well!”

The Gunnery Chief nodded, his voice once more adopting his usual servility – “Corpos pay well, they do indeed.”

Captain Zhur could’ve sworn that someone among his bridge officers, he could not discern who, whispered –“Dead pirates spend no coin.”

To nip this near mutiny in the bud, the captain simply needed to succeeded.

He crossed eyes with his Chief Gunner looking for signs of deceit, yet after one long look, turned his gaze away. A confrontation now would be meaningless unless he proved his point and took care of both Terr’aans and their underlings.

With considerable effort Zhur recovered his posture, mumbling under his nose:

“That War Liar, this is his doing!”

“This is base camp! Sir, we are under attack!” – The uncomfortable silence was shattered by a loud report from the ground – “They’ve somehow crawled up real close. One of my patrols is pinned down by heavy beamfire!”

“Hullster, calm yourself!” – Zhur shouted and pointed at his holo-screen.

The Sys Ops quickly switched it to display the base camp’s portable scanner feed, but a handful of pink squares in the vicinity – “I am seeing only a mere handful of assailants and you have over sixty armed warriors at your command! Mobilize them immediately, order the ground attack shuttles in the air and then blast these rodents into smithereens!”

“Missi-” – the newly-promoted Hullster’s voice was cut by some kind of interference – “they are launching... showering us with grenades! Sir, they’ve successfully overwhelmed my... and are now attacking the base proper!”

Zhur winced and looked at his Sys Ops Chief, who was engaged in furious holo-keyboard tapping.

“Sir, someone down there is not only jamming our comm link, they’ve hacked the camp sensor feed.” – reported the Sys Ops Chief, doubt creeping in her voice.

“Well, what in Holy Darkness’s name are you doing then?! Cut through it and re-establish communications!” – The captain snapped back, his heart gripped by irrational anger once more.

“Hel-” – the Hullster’s voice was conquered by unintelligible garble – “we are under attack by... one Terr’aan platoon... on scanners!”

Zhur’s Sys Ops slammed her hand into her chair’s armrest. She could do only so much without their ship’s sensors and he hissed yet another curse under his nose. These Terr’aans were not going to be playing him like a fiddle for much longer!

“All available star warriors to the dropships, I will be joining you soon!” – Roared the captain, and himself stood up from the command chair – “Gunnery Chief, power up the main guns as soon as their heatsinks vent. Be ready for orbital strikes on my order!”

“W-what is happening Capta-?!” – Berul’s voice came through the interference – “My enforcers are just about to move-” – and her signal fizzled.

“Sir, we should be able to pierce through this shlock using our combined dropship sensor feed.” – his Sys Ops advised and he gave her a grin.

Zhur left the bridge in a hurry, and as the lift ferried his armor-clad figure to the hangar, he steeled himself. This was yet another bluff, a sly lie concocted by that Terr’aan. There were no hidden soldiers, no tanks or cannons, but a gaggle of ex-slaves near their breaking point. He would descend down with all of his combat capable star warriors and put a swift end to this obnoxious War Liar. Without him and his decrepit old friend to whip the slaves into a frenzy, what was left of them would surrender.

Berul could scavenge the field for any leftover slave to drag back before her Execs, he only cared to win now.

“Captain, residual heat will take a couple star-minutes to vent.” – Reported the Gunnery Chief over his link, his holographic figure shrugging as he spoke – “Even then, we have no sensor feed to accurately aim them. Instead, we’ll have to rely upon comm link data-packs uploaded from the field.”

Captain Zhur’s dropship screamed out of the hangar followed by three others, loaded up to and even over their carrying capacity with star warriors.

“The risk is acceptable, Gunnery Chief.” – replied the captain and locked his magboots onto the floor-plating since his craft speedily tore through the planetoid’s cloud cover.

“Pilots,” – Zhur switched on to his combat comm link addressing the dropship crews – “use your sensors to overpower the enemy jamming, then be ready to relay orbital strike data back to our ship.”

The four vessels approached the surface, their shields glistening as they tore a trail of fire through the atmo. Underneath, they finally saw the base camp and, Zhur had to agree, things did indeed appear exactly as he envisioned them. There was only minor damage, a couple of tents burning and sporadic beamfire moving away, not deeper inside the camp. A vicious smirk conquered his face and as soon as the dropships approached ground, he commanded:

“Star warriors, our target are the attackers. Capture and if not possible – exterminate!”

“Combat jump... now!” – Hatches and ramps open, his star warriors flew weapons at the ready and engines screaming.

The jamming field could not withstand the power of four dropship-size sensor arrays and, for a short while, Zhur’s faceplate showed him an accurate picture of the battlefield. A small enemy unit, having pulled off their audacious sneak attack, retreated hastily into the forest nearby. Being chased and constantly fired upon by three of the base camp’s patrols, they could not sneak effortlessly away.

They were so close, so vulnerable!

Captain Zhur only need land with but a handful of his star warriors and completely surround this gaggle of militiamen. They’d be cut off, overwhelmed by superior numbers and firepower, and have no hope of escape.

Then and there, the base camp suddenly turned into a huge ball of fire!

Comm links fizzled and his sensor feed vanished. The ground rumbled. Uprooted trees flew at them, some shattered from the shock wave. Others, still whole, slapped a number of pirates with the force of mecha fists, crushing them and their up-armored spacesuits as if they were tin cans. Rubble; flaming boulders, molten pieces of metal, and the charred remains of those who remained at the camp rained down on him and his terrified crewmates.

Zhur fought on to stay upright, his vibro-sword cleaving a burning corpse turned shrapnel in two and dodging a huge boulder by flying upwards. This change of perspective offered the stunned pirate captain front row seats so to speak, when his four dropships ate a literal wall of wire-guided missiles. One after the other, shield-less and their armorplating damaged, each ship was hit by a bright, blue laser beam.

Total chaos erupted around him and more molten debris showered his position. By now, most of his star warriors had abandoned all prudence and flew as far away from this hellscape as possible. Some had already exhausted all of their spacesuit fuel reserves dodging burning metal. As they ran they overheated their exoskeletons and crawled desperately in the mud.

It is exactly then, when some of them fell into an ambush. Riddled from armored head to toe by a combination of railgun pellets, laser, and beamfire, over twenty star warriors died. Enraged, their nearby crewmates attempted to avenge them, yet were hit by heavy sniper fire and those who survived, wounded and bleeding, were forced to retreat.

Burning metal and smoldering spacesuits around him, Captain Zhur switched to his coded comm link:

“Report! To me, star warriors!”

“Glaive One and Two, reporting for action, Sir!” – came the garbled, yet still quite audible reply of his two ground support shuttles.

“Captain, if you would provide me with but a single targeting solution...” – asked his Taz’aran Gunnery Chief.

The captain focused his spacesuit’s integrated goggles at the area where his warriors were ambushed. Zhur did all calculations on the fly and, as soon as he deemed it a safe orbital strike solution, relayed it through Glaive One’s comm link.

“Take cover-” – Zhur was able to scream before everything shook once more.

“Data received, opening fire!” – Bellowed his Gunnery Chief.

With a fierce screech, down through the tormented atmo came a beam the size of a small truck. It slammed into the forested patch of ground and under the span of an eye blink, ripped everything to shreds. Terraformed soil, mud, gnarled trees, and wriggling bugs all evaporated into nothingness. More burning body parts flew his and his warriors’ way, yet they were all either hiding behind rocks, in holes, or plain lying on the ground.

The overpowering silence of failure conquered his mind...

Finally, a couple star-minutes later, the captain picked himself up from a ground which was now a mix of crumbling baked mud and dust. Where the cannon of PCS Wyrmblade struck there remained a long, ditch-shaped crater. Nothing could’ve survived a beam strike of such magnitude!

“Our comms are barely operational! Orders sir!” – said the pilot of Glaive Two.

“Land over here and pick me up.”

“Captain, Sir,” – screamed a bleeding warrior nearby, as he helped another up – “what should we do now?!”

“Everyone, help your wounded crewmates first! Then gather all the dead, recover their gear and assemble at the landing pad area.”

Zhur gave the broken landscape around him another look, just as he flew up in Glaive One. The shuttle’s cargo hold and passenger capacity was minimal after the modification. Guns and the ammunition for them took most of the space. If they wanted to leave the accursed planetoid, he had to fly what was left of his wounded star warriors in batches of six...

However, the hope that his orbital strike put an end to Zhur’s Terr’aan enemy was soundly crushed by a link sent on open comm frequencies:

“Come back.”

The voice was unmistakably Vinson’s and fists shaking, Zhur unleashed a scream full of impotent rage, before he could gather enough composure and ask:

“Why?!”

“Because you forgot to die, dear Captain.” – Vinson said with his calm, laden with incalculable dread voice.

As his shuttle glided over what was left of the base camp and his eyes lay upon utter devastation, Captain Zhur deactivated his comms. He switched off his spacesuit’s exoskeleton actuators and, boots locked to the floor-plating, the once proud Clanner quaked inside his suit.

Boom Time successfully made manifest, now it was time for Vinson and his allies to commit to their next action. What might that be depends on your choice, dear Terran!

(One) Nothing. They have achieved nearly all of their goals and with minimal casualties to boot. Vinson, George, Pews, and Blam gather their militiamen, and carry all wounded back to the mountain. There they stay put and wait for their reinforcements to arrive. In but a star-week, a contingent of Colonial Navy units bolstered by Terran Minarchy’s star marines would hyper in the system. Then... well... then they can pop up from their tunnels and strike a joint attack at what is left of the demoralized pirates.

(Two) Do just a wee bit of goodness, of the wholesome exploding kind. The two hamsters were experts in planting mines and setting up booby-traps. With minimal effort and a little bit of time, capitalizing upon the utter chaos and confusion they’ve just caused, the militia could linger. Long enough for Pews and Blam to plant the rest of their anti-personnel mines, and the militiamen set up grenade and simple, but nasty booby-traps. Then and only then, would they slink back into the forest.

(Three) Director Berul’s mercs were down there and she was in dire need of getting unalived. Isolated from their pirate allies, she and her bodyguards were vulnerable. They could be effectively surrounded, taken down with minimal waste of combat resources and hopefully, few casualties. If left to their own devices, however, these experienced mercs could do much harm. Perhaps they’d even locate one of the militia’s hidden tunnels. Things then would get real bloody, real fast...

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Dear reader, please do not forget to post your pick in the comments below, and elaborate upon why you think our protagonist should do so.