by Christi Smit
Remy had delivered the report to her captain with tears in her eyes, the strain of knowing that millions of lives had ended in a heartbeat was almost too much for her too bear. She had confirmed the composition of the asteroids and matched them with data in the P-SEP Planetary Colonization Database. Remy had also found traces of weapon residue in the void around the destroyed planet, but the Hyperion’s scanners could not identify what class of weapon was used to blow up an entire planet. Planet destroyers were ancient weapons lost long ago during old wars, and no planet in any of the known sectors could or would manufacture such a horrible weapon, not after all of the lives that were lost because of them. No-one even knew how these old weapons worked or how to build one, whatever caused Nox’s destruction was something entirely new, and something vicious.
It pained Gray to see Remy this way, he wished he could hold the girl, he longed to brush the loose hair from her face...he was so lost in thoughts of his secret attraction that he almost did not hear his radio operator’s sudden outburst.
“Sir, the Fateful Moment’s engines are live, burning at maximum!” The panic in the man’s voice was clear at the sudden turn of events. “It’s turning away sir!”
Remy’s head snapped up from the display on her lap. “Impossible! Helm?” she asked.
“I see it ma’am, she’s turning away from us on an unknown path,” the officer replied, working at the Hyperion’s controls.
“Then we follow it, Captain?” Remy looked at Gray, looking for a counter argument to her order.
“You heard the lady. I am taking control,” Gray said, his hands still attached to his command chair.
The helm officer’s controls went dead in his hands as the Hyperion’s true pilot took over control. Captain Gray pulled his loved cruiser into a wide turn, dodging the larger asteroids hurtling past the Hyperion’s hull.
Gray could see on the displays around him that the Fateful Moment was burning far too hot, its engine flares immensely bright behind the cargo vessel. It was at maximum power, which meant that its reactor would go critical and rupture if it was not stopped soon. The reactor on any space-faring vessel could maintain maximum burn for approximately two hours, after that the reactor would fail and the vessel it belonged to would be reduced to slag or blown to pieces.
“Give me three-quarters power Remy, we are faster than her, we need to keep her in our sight. Calculate its path, we can fall in behind it and use it to bulldoze the way.” Gray’s manoeuvre had brought the Hyperion around right behind the Fateful Moment’s tail-end, falling into the same line as the cargo vessel.
“Yes sir, on it!” Remy replied. She was already strapped in to her seat, her petite hands working on her display.
The Hyperion shuddered as its engines increased in power. The shuddering stopped as soon as it had started, the vessel settled as the power coursed through its systems.
Gray could see the Fateful Moment ahead, moving through the asteroids, its movements precise and clinical, something he had not seen for a long time, something that reminded him of the auto piloting systems the P-SEP flight academy used to train cadets with.
Whatever was piloting the vessel in front of him was definitively not human.
Gray knew the chase was on and what needed to be done before the Fateful Moment burned itself out.
“Find me someone to contact on that damned ship! We need to inform them of what’s going on out here! Get it done!” Gray said through his straining lips. The speed at which the two ships were charging through the asteroid field was almost suicide, and it would require Gray’s full attention very soon.
“This can’t be good,” Xander said mostly to himself, but his opinion was voiced over the squad radio nonetheless.
The Lancers also heard Xander’s comment, a few of them nodding in agreement at the Titan’s assessment of the developing situation.
Locke did not bother to ask the AIE about the next phase of the psychotic machine’s plan; he doubted it would share any more. The metal brain of wires and circuits just watched them all from its perch, not saying anything, glowing from the annoyance the humans had caused. Locke was pretty sure their conversation had made things worse than it already was, but it did not matter, they needed to escape and soon.
“Got it, Captain,” Rivers suddenly said over the radio, sharing his path through the perilous ship with the rest of the squad. “We have to go down to go up. The path we need to take is highlighted in red.” Rivers stood up from where he was kneeling, picking up Roger with his free hand. The little automaton climbed on Rivers by itself, scrambling over the Titan’s shoulder, attaching itself to the waiting connection point on its master’s back. Roger did not power down, it instead kept beeping, scanning the surroundings and reporting everything it found to River’s visor.
“This part,” Nathan said, referring to the first part of their path through the ship “will be a seriously tight squeeze. The ventilation system will force us into single-file. Pyoter is going to struggle with it. Do you see now, Pyoter?” He did not bother waiting for the giant Titan to reply. “All of that shit you ate to bulk up is coming back to bite all of us in the ass now.”
“Nyet Big Bear, real men bulk up, my father would be ashamed of me if I was as tiny as the rest of you,” Pyoter replied to Nathan’s verbal stab, emphasizing the tiny with a hand gesture.
“Orders, sir?” a Lancer asked Locke over the squad radio, ignoring the jokes the others were making.
Locke recognized the Lancer’s voice as the one that was speaking with the FNG on-board the Maiden. He liked the man’s directness, straight to the point, ready to take on whatever was in front of him. The Lancer’s courage was commendable; Locke would make sure to mention it to Sabian when he saw him again - if he saw him again. He nodded at the Lancer and turned to the FNG, it was time for him to test the mettle of the new Titan under his command. “Corporal, you will take the lead, your shield will be the anvil on which this tide will break in the confines of the vents,” Locke said, turning to Nathan next, “Nathan will be behind you with his shield, push anything coming at us back and the rest of us will make them bleed with whatever ammo we have left.”
Christian nodded and confirmed the order, already walking to the ventilation duct that had opened earlier to release a torrent of monsters. He was too focused to say anything. He crouched down at the edge of the open duct, and waited for Locke to complete the order for the rest of the squad.
“Xander fall in behind Nathan, the Lancers will follow, and I will follow them. Pyoter and Rivers will take the rear; Rivers’ scanners will tell us if anything is following us or sneaking up on us. Pyoter can use his bulk to plug the duct, in case anything gets past Rivers. Everything clear Wolves?” Locke looked at everyone in turn and then settled his helmet on the Lancers. “Clear?” he asked Sabian’s elite.
Everyone acknowledged the Captain’s order and joined Christian at the ventilation system entrance. No-one looked or spoke to the AIE as they passed the machine, ignoring the thing’s vibrating and glowing lights.
One by one the rag-tag squad dropped into the vent, blood was pooled on the floor from the fight minutes ago, the dim red light of the ventilation system adding a deeper hue of red to the life-giving fluid.
Christian had to slightly crouch behind his shield, his helmet missing the roof of the duct by inches. Pyoter would definitely have a hard time fitting; he would have to move along on all-fours. There was almost no room to fight in the vents, but with his strength and Nathan behind him he was sure he could push back whatever came at him. The shield would protect most of his body for the short walk beneath the decking of the Fateful Moment.
Everyone had dropped into the vent, leaving only Rivers at the edge of the entrance to the red tunnel underneath the decking. Rivers felt that something needed to be said to the AIE before he dropped down as well. In his crouched position he looked over his shoulder and shouted at the AIE. “Oi!” he shouted, trying to get the AIE’s attention. His shout wo
rked and the AIE turned on its perch to look at the Titan. “We will be seeing you again,” he said to the thing. He raised his fist as he spoke and followed it up by raising his middle finger at the machine before he dropped out of sight.
Progress was slow through the ventilation system of the Fateful Moment; the rag-tag squad chose to be cautious instead of stepping into more crap they might not have been prepared for. Rivers had linked his scanners to the rest of the squad, allowing everyone to see what was going on around them. So far there had only been a few pings of movement above and below them, nothing had come close so far. Even so, the Wolves and the Lancers were moving as quietly as they could, there was no need to take any unnecessary risks in the confines of the ducts they were moving through. They would have probably increased their pace had they known what was happening in the void on the other side of the vessel’s hull plating.
“Intersection ahead, cutting right across our path,” Christian reported from the front, his voice low and not broadcasting through his helmet’s external speakers.
“Take positions and hold at the edge of the intersection. We need to cross it quickly.” Locke was getting annoyed at the confined spaces, and he was getting especially annoyed at Pyoter complaining constantly about the exact same thing already getting on his own nerves. The giant Titan could be heard swearing in his native tongue every time his armour hit the sides of the duct, or whenever he got himself stuck on protruding pipes and machines on the sides of the vents, and it happened more than just a few times.
Rivers was just as annoyed at the back of the line, having to stop and watch Pyoter squirm was not something high on his list of most favourite things to see, neither was watching a giant armoured buttocks move only a few feet from his face.
“No movement, lights are off further down, dark sight sees nothing.” Christian reported again, he was at the cross-section, his shield in front of him and his combat blade in his free hand, Nathan’s shield was right behind him, covering the gap between his brother and the squad behind.
“Cross it. Keep it nice and quiet,” Locke ordered the brothers, waiting a few seconds for Pyoter and Rivers to catch up.
The Titan brothers crossed the intersection with their shields kept in the same positions, glancing at the tunnels on either side only momentarily, Xander went next, and his stocky body looked awkward as he scrambled across with his pistol pointing down the left tunnel. Jay was the first Lancer behind Xander to cross, he did so in a few silent steps, but the Lancer behind him was not so nimble. A man Jay had called Borstil, tripped over a protruding coolant pipe, his chubby legs not lending him enough height to hop over the piece of equipment. The tubby Lancer went down in a chorus of armour hitting metal grating, echoing his clumsiness down the empty tunnels.
Everyone froze instantly, sweating inside their respective armours as the sound of Borstil’s fall carried down the tunnels. It echoed for a long time as everyone’s anxiety rose. They sat crouched in silence listening for any sound that should not be there, Nathan just stared at the chubby Lancer, no doubt cursing him behind his visor.
They waited a few seconds after the sound had finally stopped echoing in silence, just listening to the dark, in case anything decided to reply with a sound of its own.
Everything seemed to be ok for a few moments, and in the dark the silence continued. But as soon as the next Lancer moved Rivers’ scanners went off, pinging movement moving closer.
“Where are they coming from?” Jay asked Xander that was beside him.
Xander was resting his pistol on his knee, he moved to check its clip and pull the slide back before he replied. “Everywhere,” he said to the Lancer.
Christian faced forward while Nathan turned around to protect his brother’s rear. Xander anchored himself against the side of the intersection behind some pipes, and pointed his pistol down the left tunnel again. Jay took the Titan’s lead and braced himself next to the Titan, pointing his rifle down the same tunnel. Chubby Borstil had picked himself up and was braced on the opposite side if the vent Xander and Jay was covering. The six remaining Lancers covered the side tunnels in two teams of three, each of them in positions to fire down the tunnel. There was not enough space for Locke to move into the intersection, so instead he told Pyoter to lie down so he could aim his Kicker over the giant Titan’s prone body, effectively using him as a blockade, ass first. Rivers was on one knee, leaning against the side of the vent with his shotgun to his shoulder, he had positioned himself to allow a clear line of fire for his captain.
At first only the pinging over Rivers’ scanners could be heard inside the helmets of everyone in the ventilation ducts, coming ever closer, numbers growing with every pulse of the scanner’s pinging. But the sound was soon joined by a new one, the sound of howling and growling built up slowly in the darkness of the tunnels.
The final sound to join the already unnerving song that was building was the sound of meaty limbs scurrying over metal grating. Like a nest of hornets attacking an intruder a torrent of infected converged on the squad in their compromising situation.
They came from the sides first, hitting the line in the most vulnerable spot - right in the middle of the weaker Lancers.
Jessica had already knocked on the door three times and still there was no answer. Her panic grew as her mind told her that she was too late. She just wanted to fall to her knees and just wait for the inevitable end, and that end would come swiftly with the growing threat on New Horizon. All of the trouble they went through and everything they saw to get here, and now it was all for nothing. The man they needed to open the door was either long dead or he was already inside his safe bunker. Jessica wanted to scream, tears tried to fill her eyes as she banged on the door with her fist again.
Tristan was crouched in ball against the wall opposite the door her sister was slamming her fists against, every hit made the thirteen year old wince, shock from the Black Saint’s death still affecting her.
Sam stood watch over the sisters, his pistol at his side, his other hand held the portable radio to his ear. He kept glancing behind him, keeping an eye on the other side of the corridor as Jessica bloodied her hands against the unmoving door. Luckily he had turned down the volume on his little radio, if the sisters heard what was going on outside they would surely lose it.
Santor was dying, in less than two days the military had lost control of the sprawling city. Units further away from the city centre were still broadcasting, but that was not the case for units closer to the centre, those units closer to the Titan facilities. Most of them were silent and not responding to any communication from units closer to the outskirts. Every now and again Sam would hear a muffled scream from the radio followed by weapon fire and then just static. It was unsettling knowing that those monsters were wreaking havoc with the population of his home planet, killing everything he ever knew in only a few days.
The monsters that had escaped the facility had infected vast amounts of the population, somehow their instincts telling them not to feed, but to recruit instead. And so they recruited, not killing everything they found, only maiming threats, releasing their horrible, infectious spores into groups of civilians huddling in dark corners, hiding from the military and whatever else was stalking the streets of Santor.
Infection took hold almost instantly, and within a few hours an infected human would be insane with uncontrollable anger, killing or infecting anything it came across that did not carry the same infection. This uncontrolled massacre would continue for a few days, after which an infected human would start to mutate, becoming far deadlier. Mutation would happen slowly but within two weeks of infection an infected subject would be fully mutated, and capable of anything. The worst thing about these mutated monsters was their sudden rise in intelligence and tactical thinking, something that was still a mystery to scientist researching the infection. Instead of just killing, they would work together to kill and then feast on their victims, surprising even the most experienced tactical minds at t
heir situational awareness and ability to turn any situation into an advantage. Perhaps it was due to the mutated mind of a subject not having to worry about every-day bullshit, instead freeing up the mind to only process the need to feed, and then using the rest of the infected brain to find ways to feed that hunger.
Sam had zoned out as he thought about the top secret reports he had read, discreetly of course. From his recollection he estimated the mutations would begin within a few hours and he needed to say something to Jessica. “Jess, stop, we need another plan, quickly.”
Jessica stopped her incessant banging, turning to Sam with her tear-filled eyes. “What other plan? We have nothing! This was our only shot! We can’t go back and we can’t escape the city, so what do you want us to do? Go hide in a dark corner somewhere and wait for those,” Jessica waved her hand in disgust, “...things. Just let them take us, let them take Tristan?”
Sam looked down at the girl; her eyes were glazed over, as if she was watching something far away, something only she could see. Seeing her like that ignited his survival instincts. “Step away from the door,” he said to Jessica, aiming his pistol at the rusty handle.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice said from the other side of the door, sounding muffled behind it. “She might not look like it, but the door you are aiming your pea-shooter at is almost a foot thick and made from solid steel. If you fire at it you might just catch the bullet when it ricochets, with your face.”
Tristan’s eyes focused again, she stood up and looked at the door. “Can you see us?” she asked the voice behind the door.
“Of course I can, I wouldn’t be much of a hermit if I did not have safety measures in place.”
“Then you can see we want to get in, what will it take to open the door?” Jessica asked.
