Counterstrike (Black Fleet Trilogy, Book 3)

by Joshua Dalzelle

  Jackson watched his EVA team nod as the instructions were provided and they went over the tools which had been thoughtfully designed for human hands, but he still had grave misgivings. The lack of prep time and the fact that they only had one set of the crucial tools meant that they would only have one shot for a successful outcome. In his experience that rarely happened with such a delicate operation, even with a well-trained crew. Had he known that they would be dissecting an Alpha he would have requested a specialized team from Fleet Research and Science, but then he ran the risk of losing a group of irreplaceable scientists if something went sideways during the operation.

  “Okay! Let’s get buttoned up and get this show on the road,” Jackson called loudly over the half-dozen side conversations as the rigging crew from flight ops arrived to transport the cube over to the main hangar bay. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get this ship back to New Sierra. Let’s move!”

  The process of getting the cube into the assault shuttle was absurdly simple: it began to collapse in on itself until it was no bigger than one and a half meters on each side. The hangar crews lowered the gravity and then they just lifted it into the shuttle for the short ride over to the disabled Alpha. Jackson had begun to get a case of nerves at the thought that the thing was still alive … feeling, thinking, and wanting nothing more than to kill every last human in the system.

  “Captain! We’re going to keep the shuttle’s cargo bay evacuated of atmosphere once we get underway,” the pilot was shouting so Jackson could hear him, not bothering to mess around with patching into his EVA suit’s intercom. “The flight deck will be pressurized and sealed, but you and your team can move in and out of the bay without having to pump down or purge.” Jackson simply gave him a thumbs up and a pat on the back, motioning the rest of the EVA team to start loading into the shuttle through the airlock hatch.

  Like most Terran starships, the Ares didn’t have a pressurized hangar deck. The shuttles and other support craft entered the bay and docked to an airlock to allow access to and from the ship. The system was a simple yet elegant solution to the problem of quickly getting smaller craft loaded and unloaded from the capital ship without wasting tons of precious air or time to pump down enormous transfer chambers.

  Jackson swallowed a few times as his stomach did a backflip when the shuttle slid out of the bay doors and away from the influence of the Ares’ artificial gravity. The flight was short and uneventful as the cube projected their target LZ on the pilot’s heads-up display.

  “Contact!” the pilot said over the open channel. “Stand by while we anchor down.” There were a few heavy clunks as six heavy spikes were fired down into the hull of the Alpha and the winches pulled the shuttle down tight against the surface. Jackson looked out of the small slit of a window in the passenger compartment, a cold chill running up his spine as the shuttle lights showed the convoluted and utterly alien landscape of the massive ship. He’d seen plenty of Phage remains up close during the course of the war, but up this close and personal to one that was still alive was enough to cause his breath to catch in his chest.

  “We’re ready to begin operations, Captain,” the pilot said again. “We can’t extend the cofferdam for you since the laser would damage it, but the crew chief will anchor two safety lines on either side of the work area that your team can tie off on.”

  “Understood, Lieutenant Commander,” Jackson said. “We’re ready to begin back here.” As the rear ramp lowered Jackson saw a private com channel request light up on his helmet display. He moved aside and waved his crew past, allowing them to begin unloading and securing the equipment while he grabbed a handhold and tried to stay out of the way.

  “Wolfe,” he keyed his mic.

  “Captain,” Davis’s voice sounded in his headset. “We’ve heard back from the Hyperion. The crew of the Atlas is alive, but not for long. Main power was knocked out and their emergency power failed to initialize; the batteries on the ship are the only thing keeping the CO2 scrubbers running and they’re about spent. They’ve been communicating with the Hyperion by flashing a light out one of the portholes. The ship is in a rapidly decaying orbit.”

  “Understood.” Relief flooded through Jackson. “Tell Captain Walton to take the Hyperion closer and get a power umbilical down to that ship so that they can at least get their life support systems running again. After that I want him to grapple on and pull the Atlas up to a stable orbit so they can begin effecting repairs without worrying about tumbling to the surface. I want you to handle this, Lieutenant. I’ll be tied up over here and unable to coordinate both efforts.”

  “Understood, sir,” Davis said. “Ares out.”

  By the time Jackson made his way to the edge of the hatch he saw that his crews were already cutting into the Alpha’s hull, the laser easily slicing through the compromised material after it had been injected with whatever was in the device the Vruahn had supplied. The cube had also claimed the inhibitor would keep the hull from closing back up once they were in.

  It took almost an hour to cut away a section large enough for them to safely get in with their bulky EVA suits and the necessary equipment. Two members of the science team were there only to record every aspect of the operation since every other Alpha that had ever been examined had been dead and usually massively damaged from the preceding battle. Once the last chunk of hull/hide had been pulled off and tossed away, Jackson grabbed Major Ortiz’s shoulder just before the big Marine officer went to climb in.

  “I’ll go first, Major,” Jackson said over a private channel.

  “Of course, Captain,” Ortiz replied. If he was miffed about being moved aside he was too professional to let it show.

  Jackson wasn’t sure what he had expected the inside of a living Alpha to be like, but it certainly wasn’t what he was seeing. They had made entry in what appeared to be a large, irregularly shaped duct that ran along the inner surface of the hull. What was interesting was that the walls of the structure were translucent and he was able to see through them into the bowels of the Alpha with surprising clarity.

  He was shocked to see that much of the interior was open space. There were supports as thick as the Ares at her widest point that soared out of the interior to brace against the outer hull, each festooned with what appeared to be a haphazard placement of organic structures.

  “What is the light source in here?” Major Ortiz asked on the open channel from beside him.

  “I’m not sure, Major,” Jackson admitted. “It’s coming from too far below us for me to tell for certain.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll leave that for Owens’s geeks.” The shoulders of Ortiz’s EVA suit shrugged slightly before he lifted the Vruahn holographic projector and activated it. “It looks like we take this access tube aft from here.”

  “Lead on, Major.”

  “Swanson! Ellett!” Ortiz barked over the channel. “Get up here! You two are on point. You keep ahead fifteen meters and you call out anything that looks unusual.”

  “Unusual, sir?” Sergeant Swanson asked. “Here?”

  “You know what I mean, smartass,” Ortiz said. “If you think it’s dangerous, call a halt and wait for us.”

  “Yes, sir,” Swanson said without much enthusiasm and pushed off to float ahead with Ellett.

  The ten-person group traveled quickly down the duct, using their arms to keep from bouncing off the walls, until the Vruahn projector indicated that they needed to stop and began displaying on the wall itself where to begin cutting.

  “Careful with that laser,” Ortiz said. “This indicates that the … thing … we want is just under the surface here. Cut too deep and this was all for nothing.”

  After a chorus of confirmations two Marines came forward with the laser cutter and set the power down to thirty percent, while members of the science team used their own instruments to monitor the progress. Even with the inhibitor the Vruahn had provided the hull material had still been very tough and resistant to the laser, but the i
nner walls of the duct split apart instantly and retreated away from the beam of concentrated light.

  “What the hell is this anyway?” Ortiz asked over the open channel. “It looks like an artery or something.”

  “Not far from accurate, Major,” Jackson answered. “I’m told this is a fluid channel that helps pipe that viscous sludge these things have to wherever it’s needed. The fluid is then able to adapt and become whatever type of material it needs for repairs.”

  “Clever,” Ortiz nodded.

  “We’re through, sir,” one of the science team said, peeling back the duct wall so that they could peer through. The holographic projector scanned the area beyond the cut and then highlighted a hard nodule hanging from three supports that anchored it to the inner surface of the hull. There were four more flexible conduits that were connected to it, one of which pulsed with a dull reddish glow.

  The team began to pull out the rest of the equipment provided by the Vruahn and apply them where the projector indicated, the instructions being simple enough that a troop of monkeys could have come in and accomplished the task. Jackson realized that was probably the exact analogy used by the Vruahn when designing the gear.

  Four identical devices that looked like plastic donuts were clamped around the four flexible conduits coming into the device. Once attached, the devices climbed on their own to some predetermined length and then began to glow orange as they sliced through the lines, cauterizing them as they went. The severed conduits retreated quickly out of sight and the walls of the duct they were in began to quiver.

  “What the—”

  “Captain! The Alpha is beginning to show signs of life,” the shuttle pilot radioed through the remote link they’d established on the surface of the hull. “The Ares is telling me it’s twitching in space. You’d better hurry.”

  “Understood,” Jackson answered before turning to his team. “You heard her. Let’s finish up and get the hell out of here.”

  The team quickly took the cutting laser and began slicing through the three anchoring supports, two cutting while three reached through the hole and steadied their prize. By the time they cut through the heavy, dense supports the interior of the duct was really starting to rock and roll. The three Marines quickly hauled in the nodule while the others began to pack up their gear.

  “Leave it!” Jackson ordered. “Let’s go! Back to the shuttle as quickly as you can.”

  After a bit of floundering about they all got purchase on some piece of the duct wall and got themselves moving in the right direction. Jackson hadn’t realized how far they’d come since he’d been so focused on watching the Vruahn map projection, but he guessed they had to be at least half a kilometer from the opening they’d cut into the hull.

  Once they reached their breach point two Marines wordlessly hauled themselves up out of the hole and hooked their tethers onto the safety lines before reaching down and offering assistance to the others.

  “No!” Ortiz shouted. “The objective first! Get it in the shuttle.” After some clumsy shifting about the nodule was pushed up and out to the waiting Marines.

  “Major! We have a problem out here!” Jackson accepted the proffered hand and allowed himself to be pulled up out of the Alpha’s interior to see what the Marines were referring to. The first thing he saw was that the crew chief was floating at the end of his tether, clearly unconscious but thankfully tied off like he was supposed to be. When he looked into the interior of the shuttle he was confused momentarily until he realized that the cube had expanded while they’d been gone, filling the entire space. The Vruahn projector was shrilly ordering them to place the nodule into the cube’s now-gaping maw.

  “Captain, there won’t be enough space for us in there,” Ortiz said calmly. “I’m guessing when it expanded it whacked the crew chief pretty good.”

  Before Jackson could answer the hull of the Alpha shook under them, pushing them off the surface and making them all grab for their own safety lines.

  “Get that thing into the cube,” Jackson ordered. “Without it this whole mission was a waste.”

  The Marines wasted no time shuffling the nodule over to the opening where six long, black tendrils shot out and grabbed it, pulling it into the cube before it closed itself back up. Jackson watched, expecting it to contract back down enough for them to board, but that didn’t happen. Instead the hatch of the shuttle swung up and locked and the maneuvering thrusters angled down to blast the ship off the surface.

  “Unhook from the safety lines! NOW!” Jackson bellowed into his helmet, making his own ears ring. “Hook onto each other, as many as can be reached!” He hooked his own line to Major Ortiz even as the other Marines hooked in, creating a cluster of bouncing EVA suits. Two from the science team also made it before the thrusters fired and hauled the shuttle up and away from the Alpha, the safety lines snapping taut before breaking. Jackson watched helplessly as two more of Commander Owens’s people were blown off the hull from the downwash and the crew chief was yanked away so violently that it was doubtful he’d survived.

  “Ares, this is Wolfe,” Jackson keyed his external com. “What’s your status?” His call was met with only silence. He tried a few more times before he realized that the ship was either not receiving him or his hails were being blocked somehow.

  “Icarus, this is Captain Wolfe. What is the status of the Ares?”

  “Captain?” Celesta Wright’s voice came back after a moment. “They’re just about to pull your shuttle into the hangar bay. What’s going on?”

  “We’re not on that shuttle!” Jackson said. “Tell Davis to lock down the hangar deck. That shuttle is not to be allowed to dock with the Ares. I want every Marine left on the ship to get their asses down there immediately.”

  “Captain, that Alpha is beginning to stir,” Celesta said. “Are you telling me you’re still on it?”

  “That is affirmative,” Jackson said. “We’ll activate our beacons and push off. Try to recover us, but your priority is that this Alpha does not leave this system. Am I clear, Lieutenant?”

  “Clear, sir.”

  “Now what, Captain?” Major Ortiz asked. He was privy to the command channel so he’d heard the entire exchange.

  “Listen up, everyone,” Jackson addressed the whole group. “I have no idea what’s happening, but our immediate concern is clearing off this fucking alien ship before it takes off. I’ve ordered the Icarus to destroy it before it can get far and Captain Wright will do that whether we’re still on it or not.

  “The Ares is non-responsive and we have to assume she’s been compromised. We’ll use our maneuvering thrusters to get as far clear of this thing as possible and then wait for the Icarus to send someone to get us. Is everyone clear?”

  “Clear, sir!” The chorus of affirmatives came from the usual source. Jackson had a strong affinity for the Marines that served aboard his ships. They didn’t quibble about the details. Tell them it’s time to go and they go. Give them an enemy, point them in the right direction and turn ‘em loose. Fleet spacers, on the other hand, seemed to think most orders were open to debate if they didn’t agree or understand them.

  “Okay, there are eight of us, so we’ll fire two suits at a time to conserve propellant and maximize our potential distance,” Jackson said. “Everyone activate their emergency locators and then the major and I will fire first.”

  The leap-frog technique worked well and each blast from the compressed-gas thrusters added to their total velocity as they shot away from the Alpha. One thing about deep space, even just the gaps between the planets, is that there is far less light than people expect. It wasn’t long before the Alpha was swallowed up by the blackness and even the faint flare of starship engines and winking navigation lights blended in with the countless stars. Jackson thought about ordering their suit lights on just for the psychological comfort it would provide to be able to see each other, but the battery power was better spent on keeping their locator beacons squawking.

  He
was debating on contacting the Icarus again for another status update when a light source from behind him illuminated Major Ortiz and one of his Marines. He turned his head but all he could see was a blinding point of light that seemed to be coming closer.

  “Stand by, Senior Captain,” a voice came over the open channel. “I have all of you on thermals. I’m going to slide up above your cluster and the rescue crew will begin to reel you in. We’ll have you back aboard the Ares in time for dinner, sir.”

  The rescue operation was executed completely by the book, and by the time the shuttle crew was pulling the last spacer in and securing him to a jump seat barely fifteen minutes had elapsed. The crew chief closed and secured the aft hatch while the rescue team efficiently checked the health of their charges and made sure all of the EVA suits were still providing heat and atmosphere.

  “Word just came in from the Icarus!” the call came over the shuttle’s open channel. “Stand by for a nuclear detonation!” Protective covers slammed into place over all the portholes and all side chatter stopped, everyone holding their collective breath as they waited on additional information from the Icarus.

  “Senior Captain Wolfe, Captain Wright has asked me to inform you that the target Alpha has been completely destroyed,” the pilot said after another ten minutes. “We’ll be taking you back to the Ares now.”

  “Thank you, Pilot,” Jackson keyed his mic. “Let’s not spare any fuel on the way back, shall we?”

  “Of course not, sir,” the pilot chuckled.

  ****

  “We’ve made contact with the flight crew,” Davis said as Jackson rushed onto the bridge like a madman, parts of his EVA suit still hanging off his thin frame. “They’re alive in their own suits, but they can’t reassert control over the shuttle.”