side, with no attachments to the center to hold them in place, and leaning outwards from the force of the last blast, slowly leaned and sagged out to drape over five of the eight shuttles. There was no way of telling if the shuttles would have the lifting power to get clear, or could do so without damage.
They had arrived with additional passenger capacity, in the event some of the ships suffered damage. However, they didn’t have as much space as they would need if they had to abandon all the craft that seemed trapped. The “huddle close to the dome” idea seemed a hell of a lot less brilliant in Thad’s hindsight.
As the clanship moved more directly overhead it appeared to hover a moment, and Thad was about to order Fred and Richard to fire their missiles, which could lock onto a visually sighted target and alter course to climb up and pursue. It was nearly six miles up, and only slowly descending, as if looking the damage over. There was another brief encrypted transmission, before the thrust backed off and the pilot appeared committed to landing.
****
Droktad was disinterested in the return flight itself. This was not a duty posting that he desired. After a year of fighting on Poldark as a rising status warrior and a promotion, his first sub leader assignment was of leading untested warriors, who only monitored willing slaves. Slaves who were building weapons he wasn’t going to get to use in battle.
This was an unpleasant task, even if a necessary one. Particularly after the humans had displayed completely unexpected capability and initiative in attacking war production facilities. The war leaders had not believed the humans knew of, let alone had the ability to strike those facilities. He wanted more than ever to be back at the war. Sharing rotation time for combat duty with other clan mates was tedious.
He had just been to visit his next level leader, to request permission to join one of the new invasions forces, to escape the lackluster, slow status building position he now held. The cursed human attacks, he was told, made his responsibility to his clan and the Great Path even more vital now. To defend the production of their tools for making war. He selfishly asked if the greater importance of his role in defending this dome would earn him more status points, to enable him to buy his way into combat sooner. The answer was no, and he was returning to spend a full orbit watching his warriors watch workers. His inexperienced force merely waited to defend against an impossible human attack.
His K’Tal pilot was only slowing slightly, intending a typically rapid descent from a suborbital path that would put them over the dome soon. It was the pilot’s comment that drew him away from cleaning his plasma rifle for the hand of hand of hand times. He would wear out the sturdy parts cleaning them well before he wore them out in combat.
“Droktad, something has just happened at the dome. Dust or smoke is rising. There was none seen when we came over the horizon.”
The sub leader rose and tapped his view screen controls, and selected a zoomed image of the approaching destination, presently below and behind them as their main thrusters added its plasma glow to the edge of the image. There was a column of gray and white smoke rising vertically over the site, and he suddenly realized that the structure was far too flat, and even as he watched, and increased magnification, the center of the building sank farther, leaving the sides standing higher than the center. The dome was collapsing into the factory levels below! There was no way from this view that he could tell this was the second round of destruction. To his mind, it must have all happened as they approached.
He selected the ship’s radio on his console, and called on the clan frequency set aside for this dome in an attempt to reach his second in command. “Bolgar, what is the status of the dome? Was there an explosion in the
They had arrived with additional passenger capacity, in the event some of the ships suffered damage. However, they didn’t have as much space as they would need if they had to abandon all the craft that seemed trapped. The “huddle close to the dome” idea seemed a hell of a lot less brilliant in Thad’s hindsight.
As the clanship moved more directly overhead it appeared to hover a moment, and Thad was about to order Fred and Richard to fire their missiles, which could lock onto a visually sighted target and alter course to climb up and pursue. It was nearly six miles up, and only slowly descending, as if looking the damage over. There was another brief encrypted transmission, before the thrust backed off and the pilot appeared committed to landing.
****
Droktad was disinterested in the return flight itself. This was not a duty posting that he desired. After a year of fighting on Poldark as a rising status warrior and a promotion, his first sub leader assignment was of leading untested warriors, who only monitored willing slaves. Slaves who were building weapons he wasn’t going to get to use in battle.
This was an unpleasant task, even if a necessary one. Particularly after the humans had displayed completely unexpected capability and initiative in attacking war production facilities. The war leaders had not believed the humans knew of, let alone had the ability to strike those facilities. He wanted more than ever to be back at the war. Sharing rotation time for combat duty with other clan mates was tedious.
He had just been to visit his next level leader, to request permission to join one of the new invasions forces, to escape the lackluster, slow status building position he now held. The cursed human attacks, he was told, made his responsibility to his clan and the Great Path even more vital now. To defend the production of their tools for making war. He selfishly asked if the greater importance of his role in defending this dome would earn him more status points, to enable him to buy his way into combat sooner. The answer was no, and he was returning to spend a full orbit watching his warriors watch workers. His inexperienced force merely waited to defend against an impossible human attack.
His K’Tal pilot was only slowing slightly, intending a typically rapid descent from a suborbital path that would put them over the dome soon. It was the pilot’s comment that drew him away from cleaning his plasma rifle for the hand of hand of hand times. He would wear out the sturdy parts cleaning them well before he wore them out in combat.
“Droktad, something has just happened at the dome. Dust or smoke is rising. There was none seen when we came over the horizon.”
The sub leader rose and tapped his view screen controls, and selected a zoomed image of the approaching destination, presently below and behind them as their main thrusters added its plasma glow to the edge of the image. There was a column of gray and white smoke rising vertically over the site, and he suddenly realized that the structure was far too flat, and even as he watched, and increased magnification, the center of the building sank farther, leaving the sides standing higher than the center. The dome was collapsing into the factory levels below! There was no way from this view that he could tell this was the second round of destruction. To his mind, it must have all happened as they approached.
He selected the ship’s radio on his console, and called on the clan frequency set aside for this dome in an attempt to reach his second in command. “Bolgar, what is the status of the dome? Was there an explosion in the
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