Darkspace Calamity

by Christopher Bodan

  Scores of them raced directly into the paladin’s lines, their blood-mad screams filling the thin atmosphere. Malya saw half a dozen other rifts opening. They were surrounded. A tear ripped wide just over the edge of the plateau from the pit crew, away from the first incursion and out of their sight. Malya shouted a warning as she dove in, but they had no time. In an instant, a noh packmaster had driven his hounds into their ranks, and a dozen berserkers literally leapt on top of them.

  Malya had no time to think. She kept her blades in tight to avoid hitting her friends and slipped around the outside edge of the roiling melee. Screams rose all around her. The berserkers howled their devotions to Nozuki as they cleaved down the paladins and pit crew. They kept shouting prayers as swords sliced through them and hydraulic spanners mutilated their limbs. Paladins cried their defiance and terror, sometimes in the same breath. One of the wrecker exoframes stumbled as its legs failed. Its pilot tried to keep it upright, but she couldn’t compensate for severed pistons. Instantly four berserkers swarmed it. They ripped shattered parts free and pulled hunks of the pilot’s body apart. She screamed and smashed two of them to pulp. She was still screaming as the other two broke open her rib cage. Tears almost blinded the princess but she saw well enough to kill the berserkers with her sword. Too late.

  Above the screams and cries, Malya heard Betty shouting. Even the roar of the noh could not drown out someone who could shout over the noise of the Cerci Prime racetrack. She rallied the pit crew to her, forming a circle of whirling, wrenching weapons and desperate pistol fire. Lug loomed up over his friend, battering away hounds, until three Hatriya warriors grabbed his arms. Ignoring their injuries, the noh hauled the chee forward, nearly crushing Betty, and ripped his arms from his body in a shower of sparks. Lug wailed, stumbled, and barely managed to miss Betty as he fell. Malya swung in to assist as Betty battered back the warriors with her wrench and inarticulate screams.

  Malya’s blade cut the Hatriya apart almost casually. Even their armor barely slowed her blows. The attack slowed her, however, and almost a dozen berserkers turned as if answering an unheard order and leapt at her. Their sheer weight nearly dragged down Sedaris. She ducked her head and rolled. The jagged points of broken esper crystals cut at her upper back and shoulders, but they shredded the noh. Their blood soaked her. It pasted her suit to her skin and caked her hair. She pulled up, tucking the relic’s limbs in tight, and rocketed into the sky, gasping for breath. The last noh fell away, still shouting praises to his god. She spun again, at high speed, and much of the blood flew away. She still felt nauseous.

  As she leveled out, she saw that the battle had settled into chaotic but solid lines. The initial confusion and rush of the noh assault had faltered on the paladins’ discipline and experience. Sebastian Cross was clearing away swaths of the bestial hounds with each swing of his relic’s shattered blade, blue esper flames dancing on its edge. The attackers had mostly been contained in pockets or pushed to the edges of the plateau, but she could see still more moving through the crystals toward them. The defenders were distracted and disorganized, and their casualties looked horrendous.

  Malya swept down, extending her blades, and tore around the edges of the rise, cutting through noh and crystals alike. Enchanted arrows exploded in her wake, and render beams cut the air around her. When she pulled up and returned to the melee, she had turned the dense cover around the plateau into a razor-edged killing ground. She scattered several berserkers near Cross’s position, and the Paragons around him leapt in to finish off the monsters.

  “There are more approaching,” she called to the First as she pulled up near him.

  Cross nodded, dispatching his last opponent. “I’m not surprised. I am surprised at how many there are, and how organized their defense is proving. Whatever else he may be, Kasaro To is earning his reputation as a formidable opponent. Where have you seen the rifts?”

  “Not rifts,” she replied. “They’re approaching on foot. I don’t think they’re trying to kill us.” She rolled her eyes at his incredulous look. “I mean totally destroy us. I don’t think they have as many troops as we think they do. I think that, if they can’t push us off this rock, they’re going to try and keep us right here.”

  He frowned. “Keep us from where, I wonder.”

  “There’s a cave.” She turned and pointed. “Maybe three kilometers off. That’s where the noh are coming from. I think they’re using underground tunnels to get close. I saw some warriors moving in the crystals near here but not in the open ground between here and the cave.”

  “Makes sense,” he replied, nodding. “And you think that the cave is our objective?”

  “I do. So does Mr. Tomn.” They all looked at Rook. The knightly cypher pulled his lance from a noh that had been trying to rise, wiped the blood from the weapon, and nodded.

  “All right, then,” Cross said. “We need to get to the cave. But first, we need reinforcements. I’ll call Harker. Let me know what else you see.”

  Malya nodded and swept back into the fight.

  Chapter 23

  Marianne, Origin Point

  The ship shook and wrenched. Harker could feel her shuddering and straining, and he willed her to hold together. The lights failed across the bridge amid the scream of klaxons and the shouts of the crew. Independent power supplies kept the consoles functioning, but the overhead holodisplay flickered and vanished along with the illumination, drenching them all in cool blackness.

  “Gravimetric distortion astern, Captain,” Digby called. “Good and strong this time.”

  “What gave you the first clue, Mr. Digby?” Harker replied sarcastically.

  “We’re nearly past its edge,” she said, and he distinctly heard her mutter, “jerk,” as she turned away.

  He grinned despite himself, and then held his breath with the others as the distinctive, dreaded sound of shearing metal echoed around them. The hull hissed and popped twice, and then the lights returned.

  Harker settled back into his command couch and consulted his still-fuzzy monitors. “Steady as she goes, Mr. Digby. I have the damage reports here. Give me a situation report as soon as you have one.”

  Explosions lit the blackness outside the main viewport. Harker looked up in time to see black-edge wreckage spinning away in three directions, trailing fire and venting oxygen and violet esper. Another shadowy shape loomed ahead and starboard, and he watched the Marianne’s secondary plasma batteries rake through the darkness trying to hit it.

  “Sooner would be better,” he added.

  “Aye, Captain,” she said, a little distracted.

  He hid his concern as he scanned the damage information. Not bad, considering, he decided. They would need time in drydock—probably extended time—to fix the keel and reseal the hull, but she would hold together for a while yet. He smiled again, gently caressing the worn arm of his command couch.

  “Sir,” Digby said.

  He looked up at her. She was pale under her normally ice-fair complexion, and he glanced immediately at the ragged dressing on her abdomen. It needed changing, but he let her continue.

  “We’ve lost the Gorgon’s Eyes. She’s not wrecked, but her engine’s completely gone, and she’s venting air like a cheesecloth.”

  He narrowed his eyes, and she needed nothing else to understand his question.

  “No, De la Garza says they have it under control, but they’re out of the fight.”

  “And Captain Estaban?”

  “Dead, sir.” She took a moment to breathe. It clearly hurt. “Lost in the attack that took their engine.”

  Harker nodded, and the silent prayer for a spacer lost in darkness immediately crossed his mind. “What else?”

  She shrugged, which also clearly hurt. “We seem to have managed to establish the perimeter around the asteroid that you wanted, and the alien ships have not gotten through. I don’t know how long we can hold them, however.”

  “The battle is not won,” Harker said as the overhead di
splay returned, “but it is—”

  “Meaningless,” came a soft voice, liquid on the vowels and long on the consonants.

  Water burbled through her armor as Soliel drifted forward. Her wide-eyed cypher climbed up onto Harker’s command couch and looked at him with the ‘she’s-in-one-of-her-moods’ expression the captain had come to know so well.

  “The balance here is about to shift; I can see it in the currents,” she said, staring past all of them at the blackness outside. “We will turn the tide to us in space. But it does not matter. Only the fight on the asteroid truly matters. The paladin knows this, and you will too in a moment. That fight is on a knife’s edge as we speak. Whoever can even breathe on the scales may tip them.”

  Constanza Digby sighed. “Now is not the time, lady. Speak plainly.”

  Soliel shook her head. “I can only say what I see.”

  “Some parts of that are clear enough,” Harker said. He rubbed his temples. His eyes closed, and he had to fight to reopen them. “Mr. Digby, prepare landing parties. All able hands. We’ll leave a skeleton crew and the walking wounded to hold the perimeter as long as they can.”

  Constanza seemed about to protest but ultimately held her tongue and nodded. “Aye, aye, Captain. And where will you be?”

  “Where he’s needed,” Soliel said firmly. She kept staring at the stars as both of the other officers stared at her.

  “Which is . . . ?” Digby prompted.

  The comm on Harker’s couch chimed. The captain signaled for quiet as he accepted the call.

  Sebastian Cross’s harried expression resolved in front of them. “Captain Harker. I can honestly say I’m pleased to see you still alive.”

  “And you, my lord,” Harker replied. “But I doubt that’s why you called.”

  “Indeed not, Captain. We are pressed to our limit here; there are far more noh than we thought possible, and our casualties have been high. Kasaro To is master of the Kyojin berserkers, after all. We require reinforcements—any and all that you can spare.”

  “I understand, my lord. We have already begun preparations. Unfortunately, while the battle here moves slowly in our favor, it remains a near thing.”

  Cross hesitated for a second. “If you feel that you cannot personally lead your troops, I understand. We have identified Kasaro To as commanding our opposition, along with a creature matching your description of the Herald. I will not question your insight or grasp of your duty, but another Knight’s strength would stand us in good stead down here.”

  Harker rubbed his lips. “I appreciate that, my lord, but—” He paused as Soliel put her smooth, cool hand over his.

  “Sometimes, you must follow the esper,” she said softly.

  Harker blinked at her open, warm expression. For an instant, he had not seen her face or heard her voice. For less than the beat of a heart, he had seen another place in a distant time and remembered galaxies long dead and old promises that still lived.

  “Where do you need to be?” she asked.

  Harker swallowed and took two breaths to control his voice. “I will join you on the surface, Lord Cross. We need a few moments to gather our forces and embark.” He paused, considering. “And I need to find someone to take over coordinating this battle.”

  “I can manage this fight,” Soliel said with easy confidence. “Go. I shall finish up here.”

  Digby’s mouth dropped open. “Now wait just one minute. You don’t know anything about fighting a ship, let alone coordinating a fleet.”

  “I don’t need to.” The witch placed her hand on the first mate’s shoulder. “I have you to fight this ship and command the rest.” Her eyes had gone black. Brilliant pinpricks of light burned across them like a starry night. “I can see it all and tell you where they will strike. You will be able to stop them.”

  “My—” Harker hesitated and licked his lips. “Lady Soliel, are you certain?”

  She smiled as if she had just received a plate of her favorite dessert. “Of course. You have already done the hardest work. Space is just another ocean, and that is my home.” She blinked, her eyes clearing, and she touched his arm. “Go. The fight is down there, my captain, not up here.”

  He took a breath and nodded. “Mr. Digby, you have the ship and the fleet. Follow Lady Soliel’s direction and keep the aliens away. Send the order for landing parties to all commands.”

  She nodded.

  Harker turned back to Cross. “How long can you hold, my lord?”

  The paladin frowned. “As long as we must, but I pray you, do not dawdle.”

  “Tell them to home in on the paladins’ landing zones and set down at any one that has defenders and a flat space. They have fifteen minutes at most.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Cross said and cut the link.

  “Be—” Digby hesitated and then saluted Harker. “Be careful, Captain. Take no prisoners.”

  “Aye, aye, Mr. Digby.” He grinned and grabbed up his cloak as he strode away.

  He had given his crews fifteen minutes, but his own attack skiff slid into the thin atmosphere only eight minutes after the order.

  “Lock onto Lord Cross’s position,” he told the pilot as he flipped on the comm. “For better or worse, that’s where the heaviest fighting will be. Captain Morteen, follow us in.”

  The grizzled commander had barely acknowledged before render beams began snaking up at them from the surface. The assault skiffs slipped and danced around the ragged attacks, and the wide swings gave Harker a broader view of the battles.

  “There,” he said, pointing through the armored viewport. “Just beyond them, do you see that?”

  “Looks like noh moving through the crystal,” the pilot said, swerving again.

  “Exactly. Bring us around over that movement.” He turned and strode back to the assault compartment. “Ready, lads and lasses?” he called. “We’re dropping straight on top of ‘em!”

  A rousing shout rang back at him. Moffet arched an eyebrow but grinned all the same.

  “Nothing like getting stuck in,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Someday, Captain, you’ll get stuck in somewhere you can’t get out of.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, smiling back. “But hopefully not today.”

  The skiff slowed, turned slightly, and the indicators switched to yellow.

  “Stand by,” Harker called.

  The bottom doors hissed open, the gravity dampener fields engaged, and the lights turned green all at once.

  “Go, go!” the captain shouted and leapt through the nearest opening.

  The dampener fields slowed his descent, and Harker angled to come down nearly on the shoulders of a surprised Hatriya warrior. The noh raised his weapon, but Harker casually batted it away and let momentum drive his sword through the monster’s chest. He shot down two hounds preparing to leap at his crewmen and turned to see three berserkers racing forward. Their howls nearly deafened him. He shifted left, trying to keep all of them from reaching him at once.

  Then the first one stumbled and fell on his face. Blood pumped from wounds in the creature’s neck. Moffet briefly flickered back into reality to slip her blade behind the knee of the next charging monster. She slashed three times as it fell, and the noh gurgled as its lungs filled with its own blood. The third berserker swung its heavy blade at her, but Moffet had already disappeared again. She appeared between eye blinks inside the noh’s reach and rammed her sword up under its chin. The reaver’s eyes glazed over. Moffet neatly stepped aside as her victim fell.

  She grinned again at Harker. “Someday. But not today.”

  He raised his sword in salute and turned back to the fight. The corsair’s surprise assault had scattered the noh formation, slain the Hatriya coordinating the attack almost instantly, and quickly overwhelmed the scattered survivors. Harker rallied his people and shouted them forward, pushing around to the right side of the landing plateau where he had seen still more movement. They quickly came upon several groups of berserkers a
nd hounds held in check by more warriors. Suppressing fire from the paladins kept them waiting. Harker understood their reluctance to rush over the dozen or so meters of crushed crystals between them and their enemies. He suspected that the group they had just destroyed was to provide a diversion for these creatures here, a diversion that would never come. With a shout he charged forward into the noh.

  The berserkers rose and countercharged with a roar, the hounds scattered, and warriors wisely used the confusion to fall back. The paladins quickly shifted to more precise shooting. Harker cut down two as they got close. He shot several hounds when they paused to feast on crushed human remains wearing rags in his ship’s colors. With gritted teeth, he pushed his people forward until the last noh had fallen and the hounds fled. Then they turned and hurried up to the cheering defenders.

  Sebastian Cross personally lifted Harker to the plateau. “Good to see you, Captain,” he said with a broad, tired smile. Iron-rich rock dust and crystal power caked in the blood streaked across his relic, some of it from the paladin.

  “Good to be here,” Harker replied. “We feared you might leave little for us to do if we waited much longer.” He nodded to Malya, equally disheveled and regarding him with a tired stare.

  Cross actually smiled at the terrible quip, and Harker took that as the clearest sign yet of the paladin’s fatigue. “Sadly, there’s much yet to do.” He pointed nearly over Harker’s shoulder. “We believe that our objective lies within that cave. Our cyphers have both identified it the destination for all the esper flows on this asteroid. Indeed, we think this region of space has been repurposed to direct esper to that point.”

  Harker nodded slowly, still inspecting the distant smear of darkness. “That makes sense of why they would choose an asteroid of a certain density and dimensions and drag it into a stationary location.”

  “We also know that virtually every noh in the sector is between us and there,” Malya said, her voice hoarse. He glanced at her, concerned, but she ignored the expression and pointed down. “We think there are tunnels leading to the cave.”