The Slug Rebellion Read online

The Slug Rebellion

  By Matthew Pelly

  Copyright 2012 Matthew Pelly

  License Notes

  Chapter: Prologue - Glorious fight

  The Slug

  Slowly gliding through the cosmos, the ship spun with external identifiers off; no lights, no signals, no life. Good. Chances of trouble here were low. Chances needed to be low, when with an inexperienced pilot and crew.

  Unfortunate, to be assigned to a new craft with a friendless team, but nothing to be done about it. So unlike the usual. Out of control, so do whatever has to be done.

  Heading towards the pilot, passing by large cables, brightly coloured to indicate importance.

  Arriving at the pilot, checking the systems. Non-necessary functions would be turned low to avoid excess heat generation. Communicators would be turned off. Yet checking them anyway. Careful checking of systems which should not need to be checked has allowed many to die another way.

  Searching for rust on smaller exterior cables, attention attracted to screen. Not anything physical; expanse of space negates any need for sight. Attention attracted to the scanner's readout displayed on the screen.

  Informing the pilot of the signal with a touch. Strange; an incoming object. Not a planet, the nearest was a great distance away, its unmistakable signs of liquid water and oxygen easily detected and displayed.

  Perhaps a meteor. Unlikely. Perhaps an enemy ship... Unlikely. External identifiers were off. Yet checking them anyway.

  Bringing up the ship's logs, a chronological recording of all ship activities. Discovering a previous communication. The target appeared to be like us, but an experienced mind could detect the distinctions. Have an experienced mind; the pilot does not. The flyer had been tricked into perceiving an incoming projectile as an allied vessel, had failed to activate any defences.

  Perhaps it was planned... No. Many opportunities before this one; this pilot was loyal, but young.

  Attempting to inform the pilot of our problem, but our craft shook with the impact of the projectile. The attack began.

  Done this before, knew what to do, learned through experience and otherwise. Taking over the controls, turning our ship to face the enemy. Not to fire back; our external weapons were targeted first. They always were. The ship was longer than its width; facing them would present a smaller target. The plan failed. Our mobility was also severely damaged. We had already lost; such is the nature of these battles.

  The screen warned of incoming projectiles to the room. Escaping into the only pressurised compartment. Made it, just in time; the pilot didn't. The enemy weapon blew through the main screen. The pilot's body was violently sucked into the sudden vacuum. The flyer had tried to escape; it would suffice.

  Travelling rapidly through the small compartment, avoiding the fluid pooling around ruptured cables. The ship had started to shake and crack from the continued attack. Reaching the evacuation crafts to implement new plan.

  The room contained thirty evacuation crafts, most empty and inaccessible, used only to detract attention from the occupied ones. A fundamental feature of the plan. All could be programmed from the inside of just one, another feature the plan would take advantage of. Briefly, wondering about the rest of the team. If they were not here by now, they were dead. Good for them, but not for the plan.

  Entering one of the crafts, and configuring the rest. Now waiting. Ten at a time, the crafts detached from the main body of the ship and sped towards the enemy ship. The explosive-tipped empty evacuation crafts were also integral.

  The enemy's defences destroyed around half of them, but thirty was too much. They hit the ship, some exploding, exactly how they were designed. Approaching a hole a previous one had made, then entering the ship.

  Walking the length, disturbed by the aesthetics. Agitated by the hard, clearly-defined architecture.

  Slowly, carefully, advancing to the biggest room. Not sure if they had pilots, but decided that they must have a room to store themselves. Emerging into a room that appeared to serve that purpose. It was damaged but not ruptured; that would soon be changed. That was the plan. Plans were vital to survival, so one can die another way; those who didn't survive often didn't understand that. And I often survived.

  Detected by one of them in the room. It should be surprised, but they can't be; no emotions, no feelings. It would win. This was its ship, it knew the layout. Good. As long as the plan is attempted, the Empire will have been served. Preparing for - and hoping for - what was going to be the most glorious fight of my life; the most glorious because it would end in my death...

  Chapter 1 - Quite peculiar