by Ken Lozito
Reisman nodded. “The secondary one.”
Connor looked over to the right. The computing core was largely intact. The workstations were grouped together before a vast array of high-end server farms that were the brains of the warship. Glowing green lights came from the data storage arrays as electrical arcs walked their way through the vast array in rapid succession, only to be lost from view.
Connor walked over to the main workstation. An amber holoscreen showed that a system-wide lockdown protocol had been initiated. He glanced at the date and time stamp for when the lockdown had happened.
“Look at that,” Connor said. “The lockdown was initiated twenty years after we left.”
“That’s around the time the Ark’s mission was updated,” Reisman replied.
Connor watched as his friend sat down at the workstation. He brought up several submenus and initiated login attempts. After a few minutes of failing to initiate a bypass, a single screen appeared and Reisman snatched his hands away from the interface.
“What the hell is this!” Reisman shouted.
::Col. Gates protocol. Input required.::
Connor stared at the prompt, his mouth agape.
“This thing just asked for you by name with your old Alliance rank,” Reisman said.
“Well, I did try to access it before,” Connor replied.
One of the CDF soldiers keeping watch in the corridor called out for Sean.
Reisman stood up and gestured for Connor to sit in the chair. Connor sat down and tried inputting his date of birth and military identification number. The prompt just reset back to the same challenge. He tried to think of other things that would satisfy the challenge, but nothing worked.
“How about the date you enlisted?” Reisman suggested.
Connor tried it and that didn’t work. He narrowed his gaze and concentrated hard. Suddenly, a thought blazed like a beacon in his brain and he entered a specific date and time that would appear random to anyone else but him.
::Input accepted. Initiating data dump. Please specify destination.::
Connor glanced at Reisman questioningly.
“One second,” Reisman said and opened the holo-interface on the arm of his combat suit. “I’ve opened a secure channel to the Vigilant,” Reisman said and made a passing motion of the channel to Connor.
A new data storage connection appeared on Connor’s internal heads-up display and he mounted it to the session.
::Success. Dump in progress . . . ::
Connor stood up.
“What was that date you entered?” Reisman asked.
“The date my father died. He was close friends with Admiral Wilkinson,” Connor replied.
“Why is that date important to Wilkinson?”
“My father was KIA and saved Wilkinson’s life,” Connor said.
Reisman glanced at the holoscreen. “This could take a while,” he said, noting the progress. He brought up another window and started checking a few things.
Connor glanced over at Sean and noticed him speaking with his men. He walked over to them. “What’s going on?”
“We think we’ve found the Banshee crew,” Sean said.
“Where?” Connor asked.
Sean frowned. “That’s the thing. Sergeant Anders picked up a partial link detection when they scouted down the corridor going toward the bridge.”
Connor glanced back at Reisman, who was busy working away at the workstation. “Let’s leave three men to guard Wil’s back and the rest of us will go check out the bridge,” he said.
Reisman said he was going to try to learn all he could about the ship before they had to leave. The countdown timer for when they would enter the defense platform’s missile range was steadily drawing downward.
They headed toward the secondary bridge. Connor kept thinking about the system access challenge meant for him. Admiral Wilkinson must have set all this up, but how? If they were losing a war with the Vemus, why would he choose to single Connor out from any number of people who might have come onto this ship? What if no one had ever come aboard? Would that data have been lost forever? It was quite a gamble. What had happened to Earth during the final stages of the war? Wilkinson was a brilliant strategist, so it wasn’t unlike him to have many pans in the fire at once, working toward the same goal.
“Your friend was really counting on you to be here,” Sean said.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Connor replied.
“Noah is always going on about how there are ways to code subroutines that only become active if certain conditions are met. Same thing could have happened here,” Sean said.
Connor scanned for comlink traffic, but they were still flat-lined.
“How far ahead did Anders’ group scout?” Connor asked. They were approaching the secondary bridge.
“It’s just over here,” Sergeant Anders said.
Connor pushed ahead with Sean at his side.
The bridge doors were shut. One of the CDF soldiers palmed the access panel, and after a few moments, the doors squeaked opened. The secondary bridge was designed to take over the operation of a warship in the event that the primary bridge became compromised during a conflict. The workstations and command area were largely intact but for the scorch marks that dotted some of the workstations. There were long, faded, dark stains on the floor and behind some of the workstations. The onboard sensors must have detected their presence because some of the less damaged workstations sparked to life.
Dust swirled through the partial lighting, giving the bridge a ghostly flare. Connor headed toward the command area.
“What do you think happened here?” Sergeant Anders asked.
“These are calcium deposits,” Sergeant Wynn said while squatting down. “These were bodies. People died here.”
Connor stood in front of the command chair. There were no dark splotches on it from a battle that must have been fought here over two hundred years ago—more than enough time for a body to decompose, assuming the Vemus maintained even a partial atmosphere throughout the ship. Connor sat in the command chair and activated the terminal. He used his implants to provide his Alliance credentials. A long list of failed system statuses scrolled through the screen as if the computer systems were relieved to finally offload their burden. Then a lone active alert appeared. Connor frowned and selected the alert, which highlighted the main hangar bay.
The main holoscreen flickered on. Part of the imager was damaged, so they could only see a small part of the screen. There were flashes of light but no sound. Connor peered at the screen and saw several people moving. They were wearing CDF uniforms.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Connor sprang from the chair. “I know where the crew of the Banshee went. They’re at the main hangar.”
“They’re fighting something. That could be why no one has detected our presence here,” Sean said.
The imager died with a fizzle as the aged circuitry finally gave its last breath and the main holoscreen powered off.
“Come on, we’re heading to the hangar,” Connor said.
He opened up a comlink to Reisman. “How’s the data dump going?”
“About halfway through,” Reisman said.
“We’ve found the crew of the Banshee. They’re fighting Vemus forces in the main hangar. We’re heading there now,” Connor said.
“Acknowledged. Captain Lee has just arrived with the modified warheads. They’re going to deploy them in Main Engineering,” Reisman said.
“How are they getting inside it?” Connor asked, remembering the overgrowth of hardened materials throughout the area.
“They brought plasma torches and are cutting that stuff away. I’ll send an update once we’re all set to go here,” Reisman said.
“Understood,” Connor said.
“One more thing,” Reisman said. “I’ve been poking around the ship’s systems. It’s like the entire thing has been through a major overhaul. Nothing is where it should be as far as systems
go. There’s some kind of broadcast signal coming through the main communications array, but it’s using a protocol I’ve never seen before.”
“Is it active?” Connor asked.
“Yes,” Reisman answered.
“Can you shut it down?”
“I’m not able to. The only thing I can tell is that there’s an active connection—a pretty powerful one—but I’m not clear on where it’s coming from,” Reisman said.
“Keep working on it. Send what you have so far to Major Hayes. Perhaps the Vigilant can detect the signal as well,” Connor said.
The comlink closed and Connor bit his lower lip in thought. If these signals were consistently present among the Vemus fleet, it might be something he could use against them.
As they closed in on the main hangar bay, Connor and the others heard weapons being fired. He scanned the comms network and was able to find Major Cross’s signal. He didn’t open a link yet, preferring to get a better sense of what he was dealing with. Connor looked back at Sean and held up two fingers, then made a circular motion.
Sean signaled to one of the CDF soldiers and he nodded. The soldier reached into the storage compartment of his Nexstar combat suit, pulled out two reconnaissance drones, and tossed them into the air.
Connor used his implants to access the drone feeds. They flew into the hangar and separated, making a general sweep of the area. There were smaller attack craft lined up on the far side of the hangar, and the crew of the Banshee was clustered around a combat shuttle. They were firing their weapons at a group of large dark figures that stalked their way toward them. White bolts were being fired at the remainder of the Banshee crew, who scrambled behind cover. Connor zoomed in on the Vemus forces. They were massive, with some of them easily twice as tall as he was. Their skin was a deep, dark purple that glistened in the light. Their rounded heads angled to a pointed snout. Lighter-toned oval shapes could have been eyes, but Connor wasn’t sure. They had thick legs, with rippling muscles that ended in clawed feet. They staggered their approach and another group was working their way toward the Banshee crew’s flank. Between the dark shapes and how they kept on the move, it was hard to get an accurate count, even with the help of his combat suit’s computer systems.
A series of high-pitched whistles and clicks came from the Vemus forces. They moved fast and seemed to be able to move as quickly on two legs as they could when hunched over like a quadruped.
The crew of the Banshee was mixed, with some wearing combat armor while others wore a breather. Their hands and other parts of their bodies were exposed to the atmosphere. They fired their weapons in controlled bursts, halting the Vemus advance while conserving their ammunition.
Connor opened a comlink to Major Cross.
“General! They can detect active comlinks. Go to short-wave IR,” Major Cross said.
Just after she spoke there was an uptick in the whistles and clicks coming from the Vemus forces. Connor immediately deactivated the comlink and did as she asked.
“What’s your status, Major?” Connor asked.
“I saw the drones. As you can see, we’re pinned down. Every time we try to move, they press the attack. We were trying to use one of these shuttles to get out of here,” Major Cross said.
“Is the shuttle operational?” Connor asked.
He saw Sean gesturing to the CDF soldiers. They were moving into position just inside the main hangar behind a barricade to provide covering fire. The drone feeds cut out at the same time. They’d been shot down.
“Negative, sir. None of shuttles are operational. I guess sitting in the hangar for two hundred years depleted their power cells,” Major Cross said.
“We can provide covering fire. Can you make it to us?” Connor asked and shot an IR laser, marking their location.
There was bellowing from the Vemus forces. Connor peered past the wall and saw several of the enemy scrambling toward them.
“Take them down!” Connor shouted.
The CDF soldiers unleashed the might of their weapons, cutting into the Vemus as they charged toward them. The Banshee crew fired their weapons at the Vemus force’s exposed flank, and the colossal giants started to fall. Dark liquid burst from their bodies. Connor and the rest of the team fired their weapons, scattering the Vemus forces, who scrambled to cover, where they returned fire. A CDF soldier next to Connor took a white bolt to the chest. His armor absorbed the blow and the soldier knelt back into cover. In a short span of time, they’d cut the Vemus forces in half.
Connor opened a short-range IR channel to Major Cross. “Now’s your chance. Come on.”
“You don’t understand. Those things aren’t dead—”
A loud ringing tone sounded and Connor was forced to cut the connection.
“Why aren’t they coming?” Sean asked.
Connor glanced over the wall, looking at the fallen Vemus. “She said they aren’t dead.”
Sean frowned and looked over the wall. His eyes widened. “Some of them are starting to move again!”
Connor fired his weapon at a rising Vemus, but the standard round for the AR-71 had little effect. He accessed his weapons systems and changed it to fire incendiary rounds. When the nano-robotic ammunition had changed over, Connor aimed his weapon and fired. Flashes of superheated rounds burst from the barrel, and he caught the Vemus soldier in the chest. The scorching rounds burned a massive hole in the creature’s chest. The Vemus soldier didn’t so much as cry out in pain as it flew back onto the ground. Connor took several more shots, cutting up the remains. The rest of the CDF soldiers nearby updated their nano-robotic ammunition for their weapons to incendiary rounds.
“Lay it on them,” Connor said.
He opened a comlink to Major Cross. The Vemus already knew they were there, so there was little risk at this point. “This is your chance. We’ll provide covering fire and you make your way toward us. That’s an order, Major.”
Connor fired a grenade into a cluster of Vemus forces, blowing them apart. The crew of the Banshee burst from cover and Connor and the others provided covering fire. The Vemus forces whipped up into a frenzy. They charged out after the fleeing crew, heedless of the weapons being fired at them. They snatched a few stragglers, taking the CDF crew down to the ground. They hovered over them, tearing off masks and helmets. The Vemus opened their wide mouths and spat thick black liquid onto the CDF soldiers’ faces.
Connor aimed for a Vemus soldier’s head and fired. He watched as a struggling Banshee crewmember’s body went into convulsions, their entire face covered in blackish goo.
Fallen Vemus soldiers began to rise again.
“What the hell is it going to take to kill these things?” Sean said while firing his weapon.
The Banshee crew was being picked off by the emboldened Vemus forces. Connor fired several more grenades, figuring the explosive impacts would slow them down.
“Bringing down the hammer!” Sergeant Woods cried.
The heavy weapons soldier fired a tactical missile, and the hangar floor behind the fleeing Banshee crew was engulfed in flames.
As the fire diminished, Connor heard the strange, high-pitched whistle coming from the Vemus forces caught in the blast, and the call was taken up by the remaining Vemus that were beyond the blast zone. Several flaming figures crawled away, only to collapse and stop moving. The remaining Banshee crew sprinted toward them. There was only a fraction of them left. Several CDF soldiers kept firing their weapons at the Vemus forces. The ones on the far side of the hangar started to regroup. They barreled into the flames, heedless of the heat, and their long strides carried them across the hangar despite Connor’s efforts to stop them.
Major Savannah Cross came around the wall. Connor could hear her gasping.
“How did you hold out for so long?” Connor asked.
“We had to keep changing the type of ammunition we were using. Only when they’re blown completely apart do they stay down,” Major Cross said, gritting her teeth. “They don’t ever stop. T
hey just keep coming.”
Connor heard shouting from down the line of soldiers. Sergeant Wynn was down. Blue bolts were arcing through his combat suit. The sergeant screamed, and nearby CDF soldiers tried to take his armor off. The power armor was unresponsive and Sean used the manual release to pop the chest cavity. Connor peered at Sergeant Wynn’s blackened chest as the man writhed in pain. Wynn looked as if he were struggling to say something, and then the dying soldier let out a gurgling gasp.
More blue energy bolts fired toward them and one hit Sergeant Anders. The CDF soldier screamed as he went down.
“Take cover!” Connor shouted and dove behind a barrier.
The Vemus forces had changed their tactics. They had weapons that could disable their power armor and kill the person inside. They had to get out of there, quickly.
“Sergeant Woods, do you have anything to cover our escape?” Connor asked.
“You bet, sir. I have a portable MS-Hydra,” Sergeant Woods said.
The MS-Hydra was a robotic mini-turret capable of firing millions of high-velocity darts a minute, devastating to an ordinary attack force. They would soon find out how effective it was against the Vemus.
“Take it to the end of the corridor and get ready. We’ll buy you some time,” Connor said.
Sergeant Woods called one of the other CDF soldiers over and they ran down the corridor.
The rest of them continued to fire on the Vemus. There was a mix of ammunition being used, from blistering incendiary rounds to armor-piercing rounds and small grenades. Connor ordered them to fall back, and the CDF soldiers began to quickly move into the corridor. The Vemus forces detected the decreased rate of weapons fire and began to press forward.
“Time to go, sir,” Sean said.
Connor backed away from the wall, and they shuffled down the corridor, firing their weapons in controlled bursts as they went. Soon after, they turned around and ran as fast as they could.
Connor reached the end of the corridor where the MS-Hydra sat on a tripod of thick legs that were drilled into the ground. The Hydra mount was a metallic, rectangular box and inside were thousands of high-velocity darts capable of piercing armor and destroying flesh.
