The Optimum Project: Revised Edition

Chapter 4

The Good Samaritan

"Dad, there are pirates attacking that behemoth class freighter." I still didn't know the ship's name.

My dad immediately killed the engines and power, essentially becoming invisible.

"Wait! What are you doing? We have to help them!" I shouted at him.

He grabbed me by the arms and shook me, "They, are a behemoth class frigate versus twelve pirate fighters. We are a giga-class hauler, with a single turret, we can't do anything."

Anger filled me and my fists clenched as I turned towards the cockpit windows, forced to watch the battle unfold.

I knew my dad was right, but that didn't mean I had to like it.

The behemoth was actually rather well equipped for this kind of situation, it had a dual array of forward-facing cannons, and three turrets, one on each side and the top. Along with being well equipped as far as offensive weaponry, it was also rather nimble for such a large ship. While clearly outmatched in maneuverability compared to the pirate fighters the pilot was obviously skilled, shifting and rolling the ship in ways that allowed the turrets and cannons to regularly fire off shots, picking off fighters one at a time. I watched as the behemoth seemed to hold them at bay.

and then the fighters turned the tide.

It wasn't one specific move or action, but rather a series of accidents that snowballed into an overwhelming advantage. I watched as a fighter got hit by one of the side facing turrets, silently exploding as the wrecked chassis crashed into the left side cannon array.

I opened and closed my fists as I watched it unfold, the next thing I knew the engines had gone out. By this time there were only two fighters left, instead of just cutting their losses they must have decided the frigate was damaged enough they could finish the job. The first fighter was destroyed just as the second swooped in and fired along the spine of the ship, crippling the power systems that were housed there.

I immediately had the engines powered up and headed toward the frigate, "I'm taking out that fighter, they're sitting ducks and we can help."

My dad sighed but took the helm, "Sometimes I just can't believe you boy."

I ignored him and left the cockpit, running through the halls and opening a small door that marked the entrance to the turret. I climbed up the ladder and into the seat, strapping myself in and flipping switches, the purr of the targeting computer made me feel like it wanted blood.

 The computer automatically oriented the turret and with it, me, into position. I checked the condenser chambers and calibrated the targeting.

Turrets work like automatic machine guns, the condenser chamber took energy and created a field around each bullet fired, upon impact this field then bled into the shielding and overcharged the capacitors that maintained it, triggering the emergency discharge measures to keep the capacitors from overheating and exploding.

I opened fire the minute the fighter came into range, quickly getting its attention as I made contact and its shields began losing power. I watched as the ship promptly flew away, it must have taken damage from the fight with the frigate and decided it wasn't worth it anymore, but that didn't mean he wouldn't come back with friends and a fresh fighter.

I opened the short range comms to my dad, "Hey, have you hailed them yet?"

"The electrical damage must have taken out the communications array on their end, I'm not getting anything from them," he replied.