Battleship Furiosa

by Michael G. Thomas

  Patterned like that all over her body.

  He didn't mean to do it, but as his eyes wandered, he began to wonder what she looked like under the closely fitted clothing and armour. Though her species were reptilian, they were still very close in size, build, and muscular form as a human. If he hadn't known any better, the Byotai could quite easily have been a distant cousin of humanity rather than an alien race.

  Well, the Biomech were supposed to have meddled with worlds millennia ago. What if they modified a basic humanoid and deposited them on planets?

  He shook his head as he dismissed his speculation. Biology was not something he'd spent much time on, but that didn't mean he was unaware of the history of his own race. Every child knew from its teaching at school that there was evidence for human ancestry on Earth going back at least eight million years.

  What were they called? Homininae, yes that's it, the subfamily that includes us and other extinct relatives. In school they said it was other species, not just humans. But that started eight million years ago.

  It was an incredible number and one almost impossible to fathom. Even a hundred years felt like an incompressible number. It was, after all, only a generation ago before they'd even met these different races, finally confirming that mankind was not alone in the universe. The more he thought about it, the more he had serious doubts about the Biomechs, whose involvement in the history of his own region of space was reckoned to be no more than several thousand years.

  Valdis noticed him looking, especially at her bare skin and tilted her head sideways, before extending her tongue in a flicking gesture. It was something Nate hadn't seen before, and as it retracted, she feigned a smile. There was a glimmer of recognition, but Nate was completely unsure what that actually meant.

  Is she interested in me, or perhaps showing nothing more than an amused reaction towards my behaviour?

  She lifted her left hand to her soft cheek. As her fingers touched the skin it lightened a little. Nate's eyes narrowed as he noticed a gleaming ring on one of her fingers. It was surprisingly plain, a dull iron colour against her flesh. She let the metal touch her cheek, and then closed her eyes for a moment. Nate looked away and found both Cassandra and Billy looking right back at him.

  "What's going on?" Nate asked.

  Cassandra pulled back her head and then shook it.

  "Yeah, you tell me. You know she's an alien, right?"

  Nate turned his head back around and found Valdis with her eyes open, and her mouth opened a little. Her hands were now at her sides.

  "Yes, the mechanism, Ensign Mitchell. It is actually a stowage arm that runs from the fighter bay secure bins."

  Her hand drifted from left to right.

  "You can see where it moors off to the right."

  The articulated section vanished inside the structure of the ship, and Billy's eyebrows lifted as he spotted a boarding shuttle hanging from one.

  "Individual craft are manoeuvred away for maintenance and can be stored inside the secure bins for safekeeping on long duration flights. It also means we can carry much larger numbers of shuttles, drones, and fighters if they can be stowed away in the hull."

  She looked to the others, but then her eyes locked onto Nate's. She moved them down to his hands and smiled as he placed one on top of the other, as though embarrassed for her to see his own flesh.

  "By keeping spacecraft away from the fighter deck, it is possible to use this large space as a training hall. On medium and long-duration missions it is used daily for large-scale training exercises."

  Nate nodded.

  "I see. Our amphibious assault ships do something very similar. The large space is used for conducting training missions and combat drills."

  "Yes, the same for us," said Valdis, still keeping her attention on his hands.

  "Except our battleships are expected to do the same job with two hundred and fifty marines or soldiers squeezed inside."

  She reached out, grabbed Nate's hand, and then placed it against the wall of the corridor.

  "You see, Furiosa is battleship first, and an assault ship second. Her primary role is ship-to-ship combat, and that is why every part of her is optimised for ranged-battle in deep space."

  She glanced towards a group of armed soldiers waiting in the middle of the space. There were about fifty of them, an odd mixture of heavily armed Byotai soldiers and Alliance marines. Though both were physically about the same size, the Byotai wore armour that massively bulked them up.

  "What's the armour all about?" Ensign Fletcher asked.

  Svana, one of the Byotai pilots laughed and started to walk away. As she passed Billy, she tapped his shoulder.

  "Since the war, our people have been upgrading everything. New guns, new ships, new fighters and new armour."

  She then chuckled and pointed at the back of the group.

  "Byotai soldiers are the best in the galaxy."

  Svana walked away while shaking her head, but not before uttering one last thing.

  "I just wish they'd actually fought with us, and not against us."

  With Dogg following behind, she left the group, and their voices dropped in volume until it was impossible to make out a word either of them said. Valdis snorted, and Svana muttered something before continuing far off into the distance and then vanished into another wide passageway.

  Valdis looked to the small group, and her eyes stopped scanning past them as Cassandra and Matilda tried to interrupt her.

  "What's her problem?" Cassandra asked.

  Billy gasped, and then upon realizing what he'd done, lifted his hand to cover his mouth. It was a pointless gesture and merely drew even more attention to him. Something he had definitely wanted to avoid.

  "Don't mind her," said Valdis, "Svana has lost, like all of us. She has trust issues that beat us all, though."

  Matilda seemed the most interested with this and moved closer to Valdis. Lilija whispered something, and Valdis said just a few words to her. As they watched, one of the boarding shuttles was lowered to the deck and stopped without making a sound. Its side doors opened, and the mixed group of warriors marched inside. The group of pilots passed into the next section and towards the infantry deck. This part of the ship was much more spartan, yet the detailing and design was still closer to a museum than an actual ship.

  They walked in relative silence for a few more minutes until rounding a corner. Off in the distance was Svana, and just before went round the next corner, she stopped and then looked to her right. At the same time, her right hand slid down her body to her flank and grabbed at her Seax pistol.

  What's going on? Nate thought.

  A large blast door burst open, and a single soldier staggered out and then collapsed, blood dripping from a wound. He looked up and grunted a few words before falling down, dead. Svana checked his body, presumably for a pulse, and then peaked inside the doorway. A gunshot blasted, and she ducked back, narrowly avoiding the impact. She signalled back towards the pilots to stop, and then shouted loudly in her own elite language. Valdis yanked her own pistol from her flank and used her left hand to make them all move to the sides of the passageway.

  "The militia, they're here!"

  As one, all of the pilots drew their weapons, and at that moment, a great warning siren sounded throughout the cavernous ship.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Byotai Imperial Battleship 'Furiosa'

  Serpentis System, Deadlands

  24 December 2472

  Alliance ships would activate red lights during an emergency, but this was not always the case on alien vessels. The lights stayed on as normal, but the siren continued to send its wail through the ship. It was an uncomfortable sound that drew the danger to the attention of every soul on board. Even now, Nate could hear the sounds of shouting continuing off into the distance, even though they must have been several compartments away. They stopped for a moment, and then a few seconds later started up again, though less frequently and much quieter.

&
nbsp; Not again. We've been through this before.

  Nate pulled himself close to the inside of the passage before tapping his Secpad bracelet. To his surprise, the unit blinked and then connected to the Byotai secondary data cortex. The Alliance pilots had been granted full access to this part of the networked system, but not to the detailed security layer only available to Byotai officers. It was not perfect, but it at least put them on the same footing as the rest of the ship's crew.

  "I'm still connected," he said quietly, "countdown says just over two hundred minutes till we reach the Rift. The ship is already out of the slingshot and on the automated flight path. We couldn't turn back even if we wanted to."

  Billy panted as though exhausted, but Nate knew it was stress. They weren't soldiers, not even close; just teenagers with a knack for flying spacecraft in computer simulations that had been thrown into battle.

  "And now we have another problem. Convenient timing, don't you think?" said Matilda.

  Nate looked ahead and watched as Svana searched the fallen Byotai soldier. At the same time, the rest of them tried to be as quiet as possible. They had all been well trained in what to do in such circumstances, and being ready for whatever came next was imperative. Although they had trained to defend themselves, they were very lightly armoured, carrying little more than sidearms. Nate's pulse quickened as he remembered the last close encounter with the enemy. He'd seen fully armoured Byotai soldiers, and even militia cultists, but never the kind of numbers that could be a threat to a ship like this.

  There must be hundreds of them on board, and that means they had help...a lot of help!

  Svana grabbed his Krokspjot carbine that lay uselessly on the ground and checked its mechanism. Her fingers moved effortlessly along the housing, much as Prince Kratha's had. Nate glanced back at his Secpad and shook his head at the news.

  "What's going on?" Billy whispered.

  Nate kept shaking his head as he read the announcement as quietly as he could manage.

  "Multiple compartments are off-line. The command deck and the bridge have been sealed by the orders of the General."

  He eyes lifted from the device and to the other pilots who looked equally nervous, even the Byotai among them. They wanted answers, and there was no easy way to explain it.

  "We've been boarded."

  Lilija snarled in reply, but as she spoke, she could see that the humans had no idea what she was saying. She snorted and then managed to explain herself in broken English.

  "Boarded, or we have been betrayed by our own people."

  She clenched her fists in frustration.

  "This is not the first time this has happened. We can never hope to reclaim the Empire if we cannot rely on ourselves."

  Her left fist opened and closed as she hissed in anger.

  "I knew it would happen again. It is no wonder our Empire is lost."

  "Svana!" Valdis shouted.

  The female pilot turned from the fallen soldier and began to move towards the other eight pilots. Then she stopped and inched back to the body. She removed a piece of cloth and then dropped it in the growing pool of blood.

  "What is she..." started Billy.

  Nate lifted his finger to his mouth to silence him.

  Svana took the blood soaked cloth and then inched along the passageway in the opposite direction, letting the blood drip profusely from the saturated material. Then she stopped and threw it off into the distance before moving quickly back towards her comrades. She stepped carefully, doing her best to make as little noise as possible. Several gunshots rang out, but they were muffled and could have been a very long distance away. The sound was then replaced by shouting, and the voices continued to get louder.

  "Get back to the infantry deck."

  Dogg started to move back, with Fletcher right behind her, while keeping close to the left. The infantry deck was not too far away, and the mixed unit of ground troops would probably still be there, conducting their drill. Nate felt a moment of relief knowing that so many of them were nearby.

  "Hurry!" said Valdis.

  Svana made it halfway when a trio of scruffy looking people emerged from the doorway. She instantly threw herself to the wall and then froze. Like most advanced species, the ancestry of them all was from hunters. Their brains were wired to detect changes and movement, and by staying still she gave herself a chance. One grunted and bent down to lick the start of the blood trail from the fallen soldier. Several more militia moved out from the doorway, and though the shadows obscured their features, they were clearly not Byotai, but a number of clan warriors from one of the many Anicinàbe tribes.

  "This is not good," said Cassandra.

  Nate finally released the catch on his holster and pulled the M6 Navy autorevolver out. It felt huge and heavy, and he nearly panicked when it almost slid from his grasp.

  Get with it, idiot!

  It took a moment of panic to remember he'd loaded it shortly after being debriefed from his last mission. He slid off the safety and rested it against his leg, the muzzle pointing to the ground. The M6 was a beast of a weapon, and the last thing he wanted was to discharge it by accident and end up hurting one of his comrades. Nat would use the gun if he had to, but only as a matter of last resort. He was hardly the best shot in the unit, and nothing compared to the trained soldiers and marines.

  "Look at them, what are they doing?" Billy asked.

  Nate leaned out a fraction and watched as they sniffed around the body. The race was little different in height to the Byotai, but there the similarities ended. The Byotai were often quite substantial and muscular, the Anicinàbe thin, lithe, and pale.

  "Anicinàbe. They have the markings, look," said Billy.

  Matilda recognised some of the symbols immediately and pulled herself against the wall so that little of her body protruded from the nearest bulkhead. At the same time, Valdis interrogated the ship's computer system via her own personal communication device. She pressed it several times and was rewarded, but a number of the lights flickered and then cut out.

  "Nice," said Nate, "We need to get out of here."

  Matilda nodded towards the three strangers and whispered in little more than a hushed murmur.

  "One of those is a clan warrior, maybe one of the Kolchan tribes, the beast riders that have been fighting on Karnak."

  For all the danger they were in, Nate looked in at the three enemies with intrigue. They might have easily been mistaken for malnourished humans. Their skin was as white as alabaster and their hair shaved completely. All three bore marks and tattoos, with most covered by their matching clothing. The Kolchan Clan was one of the many primitive Anicinàbe tribes that formed part of the population of the multi-race and multicultural Star Empire.

  Kolchan riders? The dragon riders that Valdis talked about?

  Valdis lifted her firearm, and Nate could see her trigger finger moving when the sound of more voices forced her back into cover.

  What's that?

  Another four militia moved out from the doorway, but these were much bulkier, more like Byotai in overall stature. Nate lowered his hand to his side and felt for the pistol. He'd practiced this so many times, but now, in the dark light it proved so difficult. He was sure a Marine like Valentine could have done it without thinking, but right now it seemed to be the most difficult task imaginable. He leaned out for a moment and checked on the group.

  They are Byotai rebels, and what are they wearing? Police riot gear?

  Then it all became clear to him. These weren't just militia, they were a mixture of militia fighters and released prisoners from the massive facility that had attacked them. Nate already knew the place was a Super-Max unit, and that meant they would be the toughest, strongest, and most violent people in the Empire to have been locked up.

  This is not good!

  They were moving in the opposite direction, and one kept bending down and sniffing the trail of blood left by Syana's quick thinking action. Another carried two thermal shotguns unde
r his arms and made whistling noises while looking for signs of trouble.

  They really are like the books say.

  Nate had read articles from explorers and Xeno-biologists that had travelled through the many systems controlled by the different tribes. It was a strange part of space, teeming with life, yet little central control or authority. He recalled that some of them claimed the links between the Anicinàbe, Khreenk, T'Kari, and Helions were all minor, showing a shared ancestry. Whereas, the Byotai and Klithi had major differences with the other races in their region of space. From what Nate could see, that seemed fairly accurate. When carrying similar looted weapons, they acted and behaved much like each other.

  "Who are they?" Cassandra asked.

  Nate grabbed her and forced her closer to the sides of the passageway. There was only limited protection, with bulkheads extending out little more than thirty centimetres on either side. On an Alliance ship it would have been much easier to hide, but this vessel was designed to be as sleek and sophisticated as possible. No expense had been spared, and that meant good quality lighting and smooth, aesthetically pleasing internal design.

  "Stay back, can't you tell who they are? They have to be prisoners from the Super-Max."

  Cassandra shook her head. She'd seen the facility torn apart during the battle, though if she recalled more carefully, only a small part of the massive site had actually been damaged. The bulk was still intact.

  "They can't be. How did they get here, by transport?"

  Even as she said the words, a number of different explanations appeared to Nate. They might have indeed hidden spacecraft on the base, and somehow avoided sensors on the ships to reach them. Or, more likely, they had essentially hitched a ride with the cloud of debris. The idea was possible, but also incredibly dangerous.

  If they used sealed suits, or EVA gear, it could have been done.

  Nate shook his head at the insanity of such an attack.