Tyche's Demons: A Space Opera Military Science Fiction Epic (Ezeroc Wars: Tyche's Progeny Book 1)

by Richard Lloyd Parry

  Score: humans four, Ezeroc zero.

  Nate turned to get his sword again and saw Grace in a furious battle with the two men in black. They used their signature twin swords, and Nate wondered for the first time if it was an extension of the Ezeroc drone’s slashing limbs. Humans sucked at two weapon fighting as a general rule, but the roaches had two stabbing claws and six legs on the basic models, so it made a sick kind of sense. Grace pivoted, her star-bright sword flashing as it caught the edge of a nanoblade held by one of her attackers. Her sword cut through her opponent’s blade with a tiny metal chime, then she spun and ran the man through, pivoting away, her sword trailing blood, only to return like a dervish, taking the man’s head from his shoulders. Those three movements had taken her maybe a half second.

  Stop staring, Chevell. Yes, she’s a force of nature, a power the universe hasn’t seen before and likely won’t after. But if you keep staring like a star-struck teenager you’ll get yourself killed.

  Still, it updated the score. Humans five, Ezeroc zero.

  He ducked a swing from a wild-eyed woman, blood leaking from one of her ears, and ran at the Ezeroc corpse, his sword still sitting amidst smoking chitin. Nate almost made it when a drone chittered towards him, so he didn’t stop to yank his blade free. Just kept on moving, diving over a console, right through the still-bright holo. He clattered to the deck on the other side, rolling to his feet, pivoted, and fired three shots at the drone. His first blue-white bolt of plasma tore a stabbing claw away, the insect’s side bursting into flame. The second hit it at the base where the torso connected with the abdomen, dropping it to the deck. The third was just showing off, right in the head, but if you would fight the enemy of humanity, it was important to look stylish while doing it.

  Now where the hell has everyone gone? Nate stood, blaster in one hand, expecting an assault, and none came. The remaining two drones were making for Grace, along with the three humans. How come she gets the attention? He fired at a drone’s back, the shot blowing carapace out the front. It kept going for a few more paces, legs on autopilot, before it tumbled to the deck.

  Grace hadn’t even pressed pause in her fight with the man in black. She turned, her sword slicing through her opponents’ raised guard, two pieces of nanoblade falling to the deck. Grace whipped her sword up then down in a quick one-two motion. Both the man’s arms fell to the deck, blood flowing, and Grace ran him through the heart. Nate winced a little at that, as he’d been on the receiving end of a similar move, and knew there wasn’t any coming back from that particular situation without nanobot tech.

  Score: humans seven, Ezeroc zero.

  The remaining drone and three humans were almost on Grace, and she didn’t flinch. She grinned at them, a trickle of blood coming from her nose, sword held low in one hand. She clenched her free hand before flinging her arm wide. Her four would-be opponents were flung away in a burst from her mind. One human was torn to pieces in the mental blast. Another impacted the wall at the far end of the command center, falling to the deck with limbs so boneless they said checked out for good.

  The remaining human and drone washed up near Nate, so he shot them both, then went to collect his sword. Finally. He closed his hand around the black blade’s hilt, wrenching it free, then ran the Ezeroc drone through the head. Crunch.

  He was panting, but alive. “Hey,” he said.

  “Piece of cake,” she said, wiping blood from her nose.

  “You shouldn’t overdo it,” said Nate.

  “This from the man missing an arm and a leg?” Grace’s smile was playful. “When you sit it out, I’ll sit it out.”

  “Fair enough,” said Nate. “Now, shall we see what the hell’s going on with this ship?”

  “Maybe we could start by lifting the comm lockdown,” said Grace.

  “Good idea,” said Nate. He sat down at a console, staring at it for a few seconds. “How good are you at guessing passwords?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  THE PROBLEM WITH Engineering was, as a general rule, it was designed by Engineers, for Engineers. Squirrelly fuckers who spent too much time studying and not getting out. Not people of the universe like Kohl. Nope.

  If they’d spent more time out and about and less time nerding out with their fellow geeks, shit might not be so complicated. You’d think flushing an Engineering chamber of water would be easy. Big button somewhere marked Stop all the fluid from killing people or something, but no. Nothing like that. Kohl looked at a console with about a million buttons on it, the holo bright with lines and markers he wasn’t a hundred percent sure were English. They weren’t words he was familiar with. One there, pressure, he knew, but it was preceded by barometric, which looked like a term pulled from ancient Sanskrit.

  Kohl cast an eye at Ebony. No damn helmet. If she had one, they could just swim out. Open the airlock, bob to the surface, and be free. In Kohl’s power armor, there might be less bobbing, but he’d work it out. Find a ladder, maybe.

  There was a low grumble from the side of Engineering, the sound of a mechanical system doing whatever the hell they did. It drew his attention though, on account of most of the Engineering compartment being quiet. Even the human batteries arrayed around the inside didn’t make a lot of noise.

  The sound was coming from a small door, caked and coated with Ezeroc slime. Kohl couldn’t make out what the hell was behind it, but he figured maybe roaches so hauled his plasma cannon front and center. He clanked over to the door, expecting a fiesta of roaches to burst forth when it opened. And that was just fine, because Kohl had plenty of charge in his cannon, and he had killed nowhere near enough roaches to get a happy on about the day.

  Kohl felt movement at his side, and he cast a glance at Ebony Drake. She was hefting a piece of pipe, which was a damn sight more motivated than she’d been two minutes ago. “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey,” she said, jaw set. “We’re gonna kill whatever comes out of that hatch, right?”

  “I reckon so,” said Kohl. “Look, if it’s the little drones, just go wild. The fuckers will try and stab you anywhere they can. They move fast, but can’t take a hit for shit. You get me?”

  “Little drones?”

  “Yeah. ‘Bout the size of a cat,” said Kohl. He squinted at her. “You never seen ‘em?”

  “No.”

  “Might be your moment,” said Kohl. He turned back to the hatch, hefting his plasma cannon. The weapon whined in anticipation. Something behind the hatch clanked, and a moment of silence followed. The tension built, and Kohl shouted, “C’mon, motherfuckers!”

  There was a pause, then a familiar voice, muffled by metal, said, “Kohl?”

  Kohl blinked. “El?”

  “Open the door, Kohl.” There was a clunk. “No damn handles on this side. Cargo elevator, right?”

  “Right,” said Kohl. “It’s a cargo elevator?”

  “Isn’t that what it says on the outside?”

  Kohl looked at the outside, the Ezeroc gunk and grime over everything. “No,” he admitted. “It looks like a public toilet.”

  Ebony trembled, still tense, the pipe shaking in her hands. “We killing these fuckers, or what?” she hissed.

  “What? No,” said Kohl. “Behind that hatch is Elspeth Roussel.”

  “Who?”

  “Captain of the Skyguard,” came El’s voice.

  “Who?” repeated Ebony.

  “Doesn’t matter,” said Kohl, at the same time as El said, “Fuck.”

  Kohl hauled on the hatch handle, the grime and buildup flaking away as he opened the elevator door. Inside, blinking at the light, was El, and a child. Kohl spent a couple cycles trying to work that one through, then said, “That your kid?”

  El looked at the kid, then at Kohl. “Takes more than a couple hours to pull off that kind of magic, big guy,” she said. El slung a leg out, stretching as she got out of the cargo elevator, then helped the boy out. She crouched down next to the kid, then said, “Will? This is October Kohl. Did you kno
w he’s the captain of the Emperor’s Black? He’s a very big man, and he never swears.” Her eyes found Kohl’s. “Right?”

  “Uh,” said Kohl. He took a breath, letting it out. “Uh.”

  “Hey, Toby,” said Will.

  “Who the fuck is Toby?” said Kohl.

  “Toby,” said Will. “It’s you. October is a long name. Shorten it to Toby.”

  “If you want to die, sure,” said Kohl.

  “Toby is fine with that,” said El. “Because Toby knows sometimes people lose their entire family in one day. Isn’t that right?”

  Kohl looked between the two of them, feeling somehow sucker-punched. “Anyway,” he said after a moment, “this is Ebony Drake.” He jerked an armored thumb at Ebony. “She’s just called Ebony.”

  “Hi Ebony,” said Will. He seemed to spend a couple seconds processing things, looking around at the bodies racked and stacked, then said, “this isn’t where your ship is, right?”

  “Right,” said El. “This is…?” She left the question hanging, looking at Kohl.

  Kohl sighed. Kid, in an Ezeroc nest. El, second worst person to have in a firefight, maybe a rung or two above Hope, but barely. Ebony, who seemed more lucky than skilled, which was an asset, but not reliable in the roach-killing business. Which left Kohl, on babysitting duty. “It’s Engineering,” he said. “Came down here to turn on the Endless Drives. Done one, one to go.”

  “What’s keeping you?” said El.

  “Other Engineering bay is full of water,” said Kohl.

  “The Ezeroc built a moat?” said El.

  “Seems like,” said Kohl, clanking back towards the console, holo still bright. “I mean, I can get out, no problem. Go get help.” He cast an eye at Will, then El, and her single sidearm, and at Ebony. “Not sure that’s a good idea, though.”

  “Why can’t we all get out?” said El.

  “Water,” said Kohl. “Lots of water. Might drown.”

  “No,” said El, shaking her head, blond hair a little matted but still doing the job right. She pulled the console away from Kohl, tapping at it. “There.” There was a deep clank, then the sound of a turbine spinning up.

  “What’d you do?” said Kohl.

  “Autoclean sequence,” said El. “Should drain the compartment.” She frowned. “Oh, hey. They broke a water supply line. See?” She pointed to a red X amid the thousands of lines of the schematic. “Right there. Easy fix. Just cut off the water, and let the ship do the rest.”

  Kohl considered that for a few moments. “What?”

  “It’s quite easy,” said El. “I thought this would need Hope to solve, but it looks like a simple case of sabotage.” She crossed her arms, with her I’m-thinking face on. “I guess it’s good news, though. If the roaches still controlled the command deck, they’d have stopped us doing that.”

  Kohl checked his comm, getting nothing but static. “Still a block on the line.”

  “Yeah,” said El. “Now we’ve just got to get out of here.”

  “I don’t want to go,” said Will. “There are monsters everywhere.”

  “They’re gonna fucken die,” said Kohl. “I’ll crush those motherfuckers into paste.”

  Will looked at him, eyes round. “You—”

  “Kid, it’s what I do,” said Kohl. “I don’t do politics. I don’t do machines. I don’t even do people, big ones or little ones. I kill things.”

  “How do you know they won’t get you?” said Will. “They get everyone.”

  “Not Oct… Not Toby Kohl,” said Kohl. He bent over, armor whining. “Kid?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m not into speeches. Here’s what’ll happen. When that door opens, I’ll kill everything. After that, we’ll see about getting a burger or something.” Kohl watched as that filtered through.

  Will looked like he wanted to say twenty different things, but settled on, “A burger?”

  “Yeah,” said Kohl, standing upright. He checked the lights on the airlock. Some O2 on the other side for a change. “It’s roach killing time.”

  • • •

  “All I’m saying is, you should bring it down a notch,” said El. “The language.”

  “You find the fucking Endless Drives, and I’ll kill the roaches,” said Kohl. “El? I know you’re kind of upset on account of the shitty day we’ve had. But you’re asking me to put the brakes on awesome.”

  They were in the airlock, Ebony and Will behind them. El had her sidearm, for all the good it would do. Kohl rolled his shoulders in his armor, plasma cannon held low. The airlock slid open, a little eddy of water sluicing in around their ankles.

  Outside the airlock, the Engineering bay was wet, droplets glistening on every surface. There were about a hundred Ezeroc drones, ready and waiting.

  Kohl grinned and pulled the trigger on his plasma cannon. The weapon whined, clicked, and then went silent.

  “Oh no,” said El.

  “Oh yes,” said Kohl, dropping the cannon. It stuck on its mount half-way back, but Kohl didn’t mind. He hit the quick-release catch, the weapon dropping to the deck, then lumbered out of the airlock. His armor clanked and whined as he ran at the Ezeroc. Kohl impacted the leading one, grabbing it with armored hands. He lifted it up, then drove it to the deck in a crunch and spray of chitin.

  A turn and his armored fist found the chest plate of another, punching through.

  Kohl was hit from the side, knocked to a knee, but he came back up swinging. He hit armored Ezeroc, then grabbed a stabbing claw that came at his visor. His armor whined, gears click-click-clicking as they ratcheted, and then he tore the claw from the side of the Ezeroc in a shower of gore.

  Two of them grabbed him, knocking him into the side of a reactor. Metal on metal, the sound of a gong, and Kohl found himself on his knees. A plasma cutter was on the floor. He fired it up and went to work, shearing pieces of Ezeroc away.

  A torrent of plasma fire came from the airlock, and Kohl saw El and Ebony hefting the cannon, the weapon stuttering as it sent intermittent bursts of blue-white into their foes.

  Kohl laughed. Today was gonna be an excellent day.

  • • •

  Smoking bug corpses, and four living humans. Just the way any fairytale should end.

  Kohl slicked back sweat-wet hair, breathing the charcoal and crab aroma of barbecued Ezeroc. “That was fun.”

  “It was too easy,” said El. “The Queen’s dead, so they’re not thinking straight.”

  “I’ll take it,” said Kohl.

  “They’ll promote a new Queen,” said El.

  “That’s tomorrow’s problem,” said Kohl. “More of a glass half full guy, especially after that much fun.”

  His comm crackled, then chirped. “Kohl?”

  “Gracie?” Kohl grinned. “I was hoping you made it through.”

  “Asshole.” She paused, a hiss of static. “We’ve dropped the jammer, for now. But I’m getting a problem on the Endless Drives. They’re not coming up.”

  Kohl frowned, turning to El, who shrugged. “We plugged ‘em in,” said Kohl. “We killed a bunch of roaches, too.”

  “Do you want a prize?” Gracie sounded surprised. “C’mon, Kohl. We don’t talk about the easy stuff.”

  “Right,” said Kohl, looking around at the ruined stack of Ezeroc parts. “Easy stuff. Sure.”

  The comm hissed, then Hope came on. “They’re not working because you connected them before the calibration sequence.”

  “What?” said Kohl.

  “What?” said Gracie.

  A long, drawn-out sigh from Hope on the comm. “It’s simple. If you couple Endless Drives without calibrating them to the size and mass of the ship, or station, or whatever we’re calling it, they won’t work, or won’t work well. Safety first, right? Hah.” She paused. “What we’re about to do isn’t safe. I thought I should mention that.”

  The cap spoke this time. “Hope? I thought you’d done the math.”

  “Yes.”

 
“But it’s not safe?”

  “Maybe,” she said, perhaps more evasively than Kohl would have wanted in a life-and-death situation.

  “Hope,” said Kohl. “Are we gonna die?”

  “No.”

  “Thank God,” he said.

  “At least, probably not,” she said.

  “Fuck’s sake,” said Kohl. He leaned against a reactor housing. “It’s been a long day. I’m just putting that out there.”

  “All we’re doing is extending the Endless Field outside the station’s hull. They’re bigger than the Tyche’s one, and anyway, the Tyche’s one is still broken.”

  “Hope,” said Nate. “I thought you were fixing the Tyche?”

  “Was,” she said. “Still am. Problem is spare parts. There aren’t any Endless Drives for the Tyche here. But it’s okay. The plan is like this. We fire up the station’s fusion drives. Fly it out to wherever and use the Endless Drives to tether one of the enemy ships. Then we blow it up.”

  “I have a question,” said Nate.

  “Shoot,” said Hope. “I mean, not literally. Hah.”

  “Hah,” agreed Nate. Kohl stared at El, mouthing what the fuck is going on, and El shrugged again. “We still have grav.”

  “The Cantor has six Endless Drives,” said Hope. “Three are offline. You’ve found two, but one is still disconnected.”

  “Only found two,” said Kohl.

  “Find the third,” said Hope. “The three working ones are at capacity keeping us on the deck. When we do our magic trick, we’ll need all six to lens the gravity weapon at the AI ship.”

  “Won’t that cause grav to go off?” said Kohl.

  “Of course,” said Hope. “Weren’t you listening?”

  “Found it,” said El. “It’s buried under crates. If only we had someone good at lifting heavy things.”

  “Hey, fuck you,” said Kohl. But he rumbled over, moving parts and supply crates from the Endless Drive. His armor whined as he pulled aside a large crate. “We got a problem.”

  “What’s the problem?” said Nate, the comm hissing and bubbling with interference.

  Kohl pointed one of his armor’s cams at the Drive. “See this?” he played a light over the hole in the side of the Drive, old melted metal long cooled making the interior look like a malformed clay sculpture.