by Alex Kings
Hanson checked his carbine once more, then took a belt of grenades from Srak. While he hadn't been planning on a full-scale battle, previous experience had taught him to be prepared. These were exactly the sort of times battles tended to creep up on him.
The chamber they were defending was about ten metres across. There were two entrances the Blanks might come by: A tunnel sloping steeply down from the chamber, and a vertical tunnel coming from the ceiling.
Behind them, other tunnels led to the territory they hoped to defend.
Barricades had been set up across the far end of the chamber, made from bar furniture that Bloodtooth had assured them was bulletproof. Srak had found this less than convincing and was only satisfied after he'd fired a two-inch-thick round into one of the tables from his oversized pistol.
Hanson, Srak, Agatha, and Uruth took up position behind that table.
They were joined by a motley bunch.
Besides Bloodtooth, there were six Albascene in identically-decorated suits. A seventh suit was a giant: Twelve feet high. A pair of three-foot-long, wide-barrelled cannons emerged from all three of its sections. The rest of the suit was covered in laser turrets and stun-catapults overlaying its armour.
The Sweetblade platoon consisted of four Varanids, two humans behind a Gatling gun emplacement, and two Petaurs (each of whom held grenade belts on their tails).
Then there were the civilians. Muttering, nervous, and disorganised. Mostly wielding pistols, and a couple of carbines.
Uruth stepped up to one of the civilians, a human. “Don't keep your weapon there,” he said, gesturing to a pistol the man had tucked down the front of his pants. “If your anatomy is anything like mine, it could end badly for you.”
Bloodtooth, meanwhile, was floating silently behind the barricades, talking on the comms and co-ordinating the effort across the station. After a moment, his upper segment turned back and forth.
He spoke with the usual calm Albascene voice, but turned the volume up so everyone could hear. “Attention! The invaders have breached our outer defences. Prepare for engagement.”
Uruth grunted and settled behind the barricade. “I hope they have fun getting here.”
*
Every square metre of the landing bay was covered in shuttles. In the chamber outside, a hundred Blanks organised themselves into teams. The first wave were scouting groups armed with carbines. Behind them, strike teams formed, fronted by those armed with Ancient weapons.
They worked silently. With no one to speak to, they communicated by broad wave radio.
The commander received a signal from its superior saying, We are ready. Begin.
Acknowledged, the commander replied. Signalling its own platoon, it sent, Scout Team One, move out.
Scout Team One advanced down the tunnel. They found no resistance. When they were a hundred metres ahead, the commander sent Scout Team Two, then led Strike Team One after.
They advanced down silent tunnels, across empty chambers, past shop fronts and apartments. When they reached a transit pod station, they tried summoning one, just in case. As expected, the system had been shut down.
The scout team found a Varanid cowering behind one of the shops with all four of his hands raised.
“I don't want to –” he began. The Blanks shot him.
The surviving population seems to have retreated to a more defensible area, the leader of Scout Team One sent.
Understood. Keep advancing.
They reached a long, curving tunnel leading directly to the heart of the Afanc. The scout teams advanced, followed by Strike Team One.
The gravity plating began to hum.
The leader of Scout Team One stopped. Something is happening, it sent.
The hum rose to a mosquito whine.
Local gravity, the leader began. It got no further.
Local gravity shot up, 10 gees, 100 gees, 300 gees. Both scout teams and half of Strike Team One crumpled to the floor with a sickening crack. Their armour bent and twisted under the force
Ten seconds later, it was over. The gravity plating burnt out with a sharp, electrical twang. Suits of armour, crushed into shapes resembling shallow hills, rebounded off the floor, hit the ceiling, then floated, turning slowly in zero gravity. They trailed beads of dark fluid.
The commander was just a few metres away from the sabotaged zone. Caution! it sent to the other platoons.
But other messages were already coming in. They'd already lost close to a third of their force.
The Commander acknowledged the damage with no remorse, no loss of confidence. It simply organised a new scout team and advanced forward. In zero gravity, they kicked off the walls, pushing aside the remains of their dead comrades. The commander paused to check the weapons of the dead Blanks. The gravity had twisted the barrels out of shape, and the carbines were useless.
They reached the end of the sabotaged gravity plating, where gravity returned to normal once more. This time the commander took no chances. It had the new scout team destroy the plating with an Ancient weapon before advancing in freefall.
Caution, came a signal over the radio. We have encountered mines.
Halt, the commander told the scout team. Where?
Beneath the –
There was a flash of white light up ahead. When it dimmed a fraction of a second after, the commander just had time to see a brilliant orange fireball coming towards it.
The fireball knocked it back, but at this distance the commander's armour was enough to protect it.
It did a quick damage check, then called the scout team up ahead. No response.
It organised another scout team and continued forward.
*
Moore paced back and forth, carbine at the ready. She knew her duty, and she knew why they had to protect Yilva, but she still hated waiting like this while the action was happening elsewhere.
Yilva was still floating in the hole, working and muttering softly to herself. Saito waited patiently.
Joining them were two Albascene from Unity and a human guard from Sweetblade. Moore glanced at them occasionally, wondering how she could take them out if it came to that.
The cloying, tense atmosphere of the room was broken by a Sudan laugh from Yilva.
“What is it?” Moore asked, peering into the hole.
“It is working!” Yilva said with glee. “I am not sure what I did, but the nerve suddenly became ten times more active. I can see communications protocols in there. The Afanc is trying to talk!”
Moore stared at her. “But it's still dead.”
“Dead, alive, whatever,” said Yilva. “It is just a matter of energy and dynamics.”
“Right.” Moore sighed. “So can you talk to it?”
“I'm trying now.” There was a pause while Yilva gestured at her tablet. “It … does not seem to want to reply to me. It's trying to talk to something outside.” All the joy drained out of her voice. “Oh crumbs. The Ancient ship is signalling it. It is trying to talk to the Ancient ship!”
“That … doesn't sound good.”
“It doesn't. It might recognise the Ancient ship as an ally and tell them … whatever it is they want to know.”
“Can you stop it?”
Yilva went back to her tablet. “I am trying now.”
Chapter 47: Weapons Albascene
“They're coming,” said Bloodtooth.
“Which tunnel?” said Hanson.
“Horizontal only.”
Looking out from behind the barricade, Hanson steadied his gaze on the tunnel entrance. After a while, he heard the gentle tap of boots against the floor.
Two Blanks emerged from the tunnel entrance. Srak and one of the other Varanids fired twice in quick succession, and the two Blanks fell back. One collapsed. The other tried to get up and fell again under a hail of carbine fire.
Those were the scouts. Now they know we're here.
A faint clunk sounded from down the hallway, and two grenades sailed out of the entranc
e.
“Down!” Hanson shouted, mainly for the civilians' benefit. “Close your eyes!”
The grenades went off one after the other. The flash was so bright he could see it through his eyelids, even though he was facing the opposite wall. Someone yelped in surprise and pain.
Immediately Hanson was back up. The grenades had also released a cloud of smoke in front of the tunnel entrance. It was warm enough that the infrared overlay on his helmet gave away nothing.
He saw a hint of motion and fired, covering the tunnel entrance. He was joined by the intermittent booms of Varanid handguns and the sharp cracks of Albascene lasers.
A Blank came stumbling out of the dissipating smoke and collapsed.
Then three came together, crouched behind a sapphiroid shield.
The Weapons Albascene turned its cannons towards them and fired two simultaneously. The shield cracked without breaking, but the force of the impact was enough to knock the Blanks down. As soon as they were out of cover, Hanson fired on them.
Another grenade came sailing overhead, this time about to pass over their barricade. Hanson was about to scramble back, but Uruth moved first. He swung his carbine over his head like a bat. It connected with the grenade and sent it flying back towards the tunnel. It exploded with a flash.
Uruth snorted. “Unimpressive.” He levelled his carbine at the tunnel entrance and took down a Blank as it tried to pick up the sapphiroid shield.
There was a lull for a few moments. That was the scout team dealt with. Now the main force.
The next wave of Blanks came in a rush. Five abreast, as many as the tunnel could handle, firing their carbines continuously.
Normally, that would be a stupid tactic. The Blanks were mown down within seconds. But they had no concern for their own lives – all they had to do was keep the defenders busy. Behind them came another row of Blanks, and another, and another.
And with their continuous flow of bullets, they were inflicting casualties. Four of the civilians were already down. One of the Sweetblade Varanids was coated in blood and about to fall. Two Albascene suits were torn open, spilling their hosts across the floor.
The Gatling gun whirred into action, biting through waves of Blanks.
The Weapons Albascene fired the biggest of its cannons down the tunnel. A moment later there was a boom, and fire licked out of the tunnel entrance.
The Petaurs flicked grenades with their tails into the new ranks coming forward.
Around the edges, a few Blanks escaped the carnage, injured but alive. Some fell under Hanson's carbine, or were taken down by the remaining civilians.
One avoided all those fates, made it to the barricade, and leapt over. Uruth saw it first. He grabbed the Blank's carbine and pulled it towards him while aiming the gun at the floor. They fell to the floor together, wrestling. Uruth ripped off the Blank's helmet and headbutted it in its lipless, lidless face. The Blank pushed him off and reached for its gun.
Srak glanced to the side. Still firing, he reached out with one of his middle arms, grabbed the Blank's head, and snapped its neck.
“Ta,” said Uruth. He grabbed the Blanks carbine and his own and fired them together at the entrance to the tunnel.
A thunderclap sounded above the chaos.
The barricade in front of the Gatling gun exploded. The gun's barrel shattered. The humans behind it ran for cover.
“Oh, crap, not this again,” muttered Hanson.
“What is it?” said Bloodtooth. In this situation, his calm voice was disconcerting.
“Ancient weapons,” said Hanson. “I was hoping they'd run out.”
Before he could say anything more, another thunderclap sounded, and the barrier in front of them tore open. Hanson and his team scrambled for the civilians' barricade.
The Weapons Albascene fired all six of its missiles in quick succession, clearing the tunnel and giving them a moment's respite.
“Get out of here, now!” Hanson told the remaining civilians, pointing to the exit behind them. They didn't need telling twice.
A remaining Blank fell under the cracking Albascene lasers.
“We can't hold them off for long like this,” Hanson told Bloodtooth as he hurled a grenade down the tunnel.
“On the plus side, maybe I can get another one of those Ancient weapons,” said Agatha.
Reloading, Hanson said, “Let's try and survive first, shall we?”
Another wave of Blanks came through. Two held carbines, firing constantly. The other two raised Ancient weapons. The Weapons Albascene fired another missile, throwing them across the room. Hanson used the opportunity to shoot down the second row of Blanks behind them. One of them managed to fire before succumbing, killing one of the Sweetblade Varanids.
Armoured bodies lay scattered across the floor. The air was thick with smoke. Blanks kept coming forward.
“Do they never stop coming?” said Bloodtooth as he and Hanson shot down another row.
Another set of missiles from the Weapons Albascene scattered Blanks.
An Ancient Weapon bounced off some armour and rolled up to the barricade.
Agatha reached forward to try and hook it with her carbine when a grenade flew overhead.
“Damnit!”
They huddled behind the barricades as it went off. A moment later there was a thunderclap. The Weapons Albascene's suit tore open. Water and colourful fish rushed out past ten-inch-thick armour. A second shot destroyed another barricade.
“That's it,” said Bloodtooth. “Pull back!”
Agatha reached for the Ancient weapon with her carbine again. She missed it with her first swipe.
“Damnit!” she said as Srak pulled her away.
The survivors pulled back from the barricades and headed down the tunnel deeper into the Afanc. Hanson threw his last two grenades into the chamber before following them. He tapped a control panel, and a door slammed shut, separating the chamber and the tunnel.
Bloodtooth glided down the tunnel alongside Hanson. “Other teams are also falling back,” he said. “We'll meet them at the intersection up ahead and try and defend that.”
Hanson nodded. “Let's hope.”
“Beginning Scorched Earth Two.”
“You think they'll fall for it again?” Hanson asked.
“They are occupied. They may not be expecting it.”
Behind them, Blanks swarmed into the chamber. They scrambled over the bodies of the dead and went for the door.
The gravity plating began to whine.
Chapter 48: Contact
Moore stood listening to her comms. “Understood,” she said. “Moore out.”
“What is it?” said Saito.
“They're falling back,” said Moore. “The Blanks have suffered heavy losses, but so have we. And there are more of them.”
The terminal display showed a map of the Afanc, updated in real time as the battle progressed. Right now the Blanks controlled over 80% of it.
“Yilva, please give me some good news,” said Moore.
Yilva continued to work in silence. Either she was too busy to speak, or she had no good news to give. Or, more likely, both at once.
A few minutes later, she peered out of the hole. “I can not stop it!” she said, ears against her head. “The Afanc keeps trying to communicate with the Ancient ship. I can inhibit that, but it keeps overruling me.”
“And there's nothing you can do?” Moore asked.
Yilva shook her head, gesturing at her tablet. “It gets a little closer each time. Short of physically severing part of the nerve, there's nothing I can do.”
“Physically severing?” said Moore.
Yilva nodded without looking up.
“This is probably the stupidest idea I've ever had, but would this help?” Moore took her carbine and offered it to Yilva.
“What?” she Yilva, still occupied with the nerve. She glanced up. “Oh … I … um, crumbs … yes! That might work!”
Moore gave her the gun.
“We have to sever the fifth medial channel,” muttered Yilva to herself. “That is near the core of the nerve. We will damage a lot of other stuff on the way, but it is the only option.” She took the carbine with her tail while still working on the tablet. “One problem. If I aim this, I will have to stop sending the inhibiting signal. If it fails, the Afanc will start communicating with the Ancient ship.”
“Seems like our only option,” said Moore.
Yilva sighed. “You're right.” She dropped the tablet and grabbed the carbine. Holding its muzzle directly against the nerve, she aimed it, muttering to herself. “Fifth medial channel should be … here!”
She pulled the trigger.
Recoil kicked the carbine away from the nerve. Yilva released it to look at her tablet, and it floated up a few feet above the hole. Grey fluid bubbled out of the nerve.
“It has worked!” said Yilva. “Communications attempts have stopped!” She paused, her smile fading, and gestured at the tablet a few more times.
“Come on, Yilva, don't leave me hanging here,” said Moore.
“All activity has stopped,” said Yilva. “The nerve is no longer responding.” She gestured at the tablet a few more times, then shook her head.
“Are you sure?” said Moore.
“There is nothing else I can do.” Yilva kicked off from the rim of the hole. When she moved back into the influence of the gravity plates, she dropped a couple of inches and landed gracefully.
“Then we need a new plan,” said Moore. “We have to make sure the Dominion can't get the information they're looking for, then escape the Afanc.”
“And then get past an Ancient ship,” murmured Yilva.
“For now, let's concentrate on destroying that information.” Moore grabbed her carbine.
Yilva thought for a moment. “The power grid is still connected to the nerve. If we overload it, it should burn out the nerve.”
“Good,” said Moore. “Get to it. I'll contact Hanson.”
She activated her comms.
Yilva's tablet, floating in the space above the hole, lit up. Yilva glanced at it, looked away, then turned back again slowly.
