Lieutenant C’rairn squatted across the corridor from the General’s position, and behind him was the rest of Bravo Company. At their head was Private Qayin, his bioluminescent tattoos glowing inside his helmet as he aimed his plasma rifle down the corridor and awaited the inevitable.
‘Remember the plan,’ Bra’hiv said above the screech of the escaping atmosphere. ‘We draw them in, fall back beyond the next bulkhead, then light them up and seal them off. Understood?’
Nobody answered but every Marine in the corridor nodded silently, their weapons trained on the misty confines of the corridor ahead. Atlantia shuddered again as another broadside slammed into her hull and the lights flickered even more as several of them blinked out, casting the corridor into patches of absolute darkness interspersed with areas of glowing white mist rushing toward the hull breach.
‘Stand by,’ Bra’hiv said.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw the explosive charges set into the deck, two sappers either side of them and waiting with nervous expressions. Both charges were wired to power lines below the deck plating, just waiting for the perfect moment.
‘Enemy.’
The Word was hissed softly, a whisper charged with adrenaline. Bra’hiv slowly turned his head and he saw something snaking toward them, a writhing, seething wall of Hunters. He could not hear their countless metal legs rattling on the decks, the walls and the ceilings, the wind gusting by too loud, but he could see them. Each was no larger than a human eyeball, a metal body with six legs, large pincers and ugly spherical black eyes like some kind of gruesome spider. Combined, they could chew through a human being and reduce it to nothing but shreds of flesh in a matter of seconds, and now they surged down the corridor toward the Marines like a flood of black oil packed with scalpel blades.
‘On my mark!’ Bra’hiv snapped.
The flood of machines rushed closer, their bulk cutting off some of the escaping air so that the General could hear the dense rattling of their bodies running, tumbling and scraping across the decks as they advanced.
‘Now!’
The two sappers flicked a pair of switches and in an instant the two charges let out a deep crack from somewhere beneath the deck as they severed the power to the ship’s magnetic plates. Instantly, the quasi–gravity that kept the crew’s boots on the ground was lost and the massive swarm of Hunters before them suddenly lost traction.
‘Devlamine, now!’
Two Marines heaved a pump and hose forward and activated it, and a billowing spray of dark, amber coloured fluid blasted down the corridor. The zero–gravity affected the fluid, spreading it like a cloud of bubbles rather than a liquid, the Devlamine expanding like a galaxy of bloated, undulating amber spheres as it ploughed across the advancing Hunters in a gelatinous mass.
The Legion folded upon itself as it sought to consume the prized drug, the same concoction used by the Legion on Ethera to first infect the population via drug abusers on the city streets. Programmed to collect Devlamine wherever they found it, the drug was now the perfect foil to their advance.
General Bra’hiv ordered his men to fall back with a rapid gesture of his gloved left hand, and the Marines retreated as two flame–thrower wielding soldiers took up position close to the roiling mass of machines.
‘Light ‘em up!’ Bra’hiv snapped.
The flame–throwers burst into life with a fearsome roar as tongues of bright blue and white flame scoured the corridor ahead, billowing clouds of searing heat trembling the air as the Devlamine ignited in a rush of flames. The dense stench of burning circuitry and hot metal filled the air, penetrating even the filters in Bra’hiv’s combat helmet as he watched the machines burn in their tens of thousands as the Devlamine combusted in the heat.
‘Fall back!’
The corridor shook as Atlantia was pounded by broadside after broadside from the surrounding cruisers. Bra’hiv followed his men at a brisk jog as they reached an area of the corridor where the magnetic plating was still functional, the blazing inferno behind them sucking more air out of the corridor and forcing them to lean into the gale.
‘The Legion’s pushing through!’
Qayin’s shout made the General look over his shoulder, and there behind him he saw the Legion’s amassed Hunters swarm over the smouldering remains of their burned advanced guard as they plunged into the frigate in their millions.
‘Make for the bulkheads! Get ready to seal them off!’
A blaring alarm claxon rang in the General’s ears and he looked up ahead to see the main bulkhead door warning lights flashing, red strobes piercing the smoky gloom.
‘They’re sealing the bulkheads already!’
Bra’hiv’s blood ran cold as he saw the huge doors suddenly begin to rumble downward. He knew by instinctive reaction that something must have happened in the battle outside, something decisive that had doomed Atlantia to face her fate, whatever that may now be. There was no way that Captain Sansin would have given the command to seal the damaged section of the ship off with a platoon of Marines trapped inside without a damned good reason, and that reason was almost certainly defeat.
Bra’hiv slowed as he realized that neither he nor his fellow Marines would make it through the bulkhead.
‘Bravo Company on me!’ he roared. ‘Defensive positions!’
The Marines stared at the bulkheads as they slammed shut before them, steel doors nearly a cubit thick that would never yield to any of their weapons or explosives. They turned as one and leaped into cover, their faces ashen and their eyes cold with dread and despair as they came to realize that it was over.
General Bra’hiv turned and took up a firing position alongside a wall brace in the corridor as before him the Legion swarmed forward.
‘Gentlemen,’ he said softly into his microphone. ‘Let’s end this the way we would want to be remembered, shall we?’
There was a long silence from the men as they stared at the onrushing wall of Hunters, and then Qayin spoke, his voice carrying clearly across their communicators.
‘What, you mean like assholes?’
Bra’hiv stared across at Qayin as one of the Marines let out a snort of laughter. Another joined him and the General saw Qayin’s smile spread bright white against his dark skin.
‘Speak for yourself,’ Bra’hiv uttered back. ‘I always thought that Qayin was just another word for c…’
A blast cut off the General’s words but a gust of laughter crossed the intercom as the Hunters rushed in. Bra’hiv, himself laughing, gave his final order.
‘All arms, open fire!’
Qayin’s voice rang out, fierce now. ‘Give ‘em hell!’
A roar went up from the Marines as they took aim and then as one they opened fire with every plasma rifle, flame–thrower and grenade they possessed. A blaze of blue–white plasma ripped down the corridor and broke against the blocky black wave of Hunters raging toward them as the last of the atmosphere was evacuated from the corridor and a deathly silence fell upon the dreadful scene as Bra’hiv fired his rifle repeatedly into the Legion’s mass.
A soldier tumbled from his firing position as the Legion’s unstoppable wave crashed past him, and Bra’hiv heard his own voice cry out as he saw the young trooper’s legs caught among the Hunters. The soldier screamed, his dying cries piercing as the Hunters’ weight pinned him down and their lethal amassed pincers shredded his legs in a matter of seconds before the rest of the unstoppable wave consumed the soldier entirely and his cries were strangled off.
Bra’hiv grabbed two grenades and lobbed them down the corridor, shielding himself from their blasts as they vaporised the Hunters in billowing clouds of glowing red–hot metal that swirled and spiralled in galaxies of light amid the raging plasma fire smashing into the Hunter’s advance.
The wave kept moving, filling the corridor before them, and Bra’hiv kept firing as he hoped that Captain Sansin planned to bring as many ships down with him as he could before Atlantia was over run.
As the L
egion closed in he stood up and with a battle cry he charged down the corridor toward them, firing from the hip as he did so. His plasma shots blasted the front of the wave of machines, melting Hunters in their hundreds but the shots vanishing almost immediately, and he knew that he was about to die.
Bra’hiv stopped in the middle of the corridor, the Legion barely cubits away, and with one hand he pulled a grenade from his belt and held it ready to detonate. He closed his eyes and waited for the wave to hit him.
A sudden massive blast blew the General off of his feet and he flew backwards through the air as the entire corridor before him vanished in a blaze of plasma, the swarm of the Legion billowing in clouds of orange embers as countless Hunters were melted by the blast. He felt pain rip through his left shoulder as searing plasma residue sprayed across his suit, and he slammed one hand over the tear in a desperate attempt to prevent a sudden and devastating decompression.
The side wall of the corridor was ripped away by the force of the blast as Atlantia’s hull plating failed and Bra’hiv’s stomach turned icy cold as he saw the blackness of space outside, filled with warring spacecraft and brutally bright flashes of plasma. From the corner of his eye he saw whorls of air escaping from his damaged suit and freezing instantly into ice crystals before him.
‘The hull’s failed!’ Qayin yelled.
‘My suit’s breached!’ Bra’hiv snapped, clutching his wound tightly.
In an instant Qayin was beside him, and to the General’s amazement the huge Marine deftly yanked a patching device from his webbing. Designed to seal a suit tear in moments, Bra’hiv felt himself pulled to one side by Qayin and out of the line of fire as the Marines opened up on the Legion once more.
Bra’hiv thrust the grenade he held back into his belt as Qayin applied the patch, and his racing heartbeat subsided a little as the patch gripped and he saw the escaping air fade and disappear. Bra’hiv turned as he saw the Legion hauled out of the corridor and into space, their previously tight formation scattered by the force of the blast and the sudden disappearance of the hull wall.
‘Marines, on me!’ Bra’hiv snapped as he gripped his rifle tighter and tried to ignore the waves of pain searing his shoulder and arm.
The Marines scrambled for purchase in the zero–gravity as they opened fire on the clouds of Hunters spinning in the light from the nearby planet. The machines were attempting to reform into cohesive structures in order to attack once more, but the blast had scattered them widely enough to prevent them from reaching the Marines, most of them scampering about on the surface of the frigate’s hull.
Bra’hiv smiled in grim delight as he realized that a Raython must have targeted the hull to give his men a way out, and he looked over his shoulder at Atlantia’s massive hull as he sought one of many points of access into the hull usually used by maintenance crews.
‘Marines, move for’ard! Stay sharp and close to the hull! Let’s get back inside before we get toasted out here!’
The Marines obeyed instantly, but with a brief look around at the battle Bra’hiv could see that it was already over. Atlantia was aflame, as was Arcadia – one more direct broadside on either vessel and they would be completely destroyed.
***
XL
‘Hull breaches on decks five through nineteen!’
Captain Mikhain was hurled to one side as Defiance’s broadside smashed into Arcadia’s hull and threw the massive frigate off course. A cloud of sparks and smoke from overloaded circuitry clouded the air and stung Mikhain’s eyes as he grabbed at the guard rail and tried to stay on his feet.
‘There’s no way we can stay in the fight!’ Lieutenant Scott yelled. ‘Fusion cores are near overloading, shields are at eight per cent, plasma cannons are down on the port side and at forty six per cent power on starboard!’
Mikhain pointed at the helmsman. ‘Pull up, take us over the top of Defiance and realign for another pass!’
The helmsman stared at Mikhain in horror, unable to move, unable to consider the action he was being asked to take. Lieutenant Scott grabbed the captain’s arm.
‘We’re done for,’ he said harshly. ‘You heard what Captain Sansin said. It’s over, Mikhain!’
Mikhain growled and spun on one heel as he drove his shoulder into Lieutenant Scott’s chest and hurled him aside. The captain pinned the younger man down against a console as he snarled into his face.
‘It’s not over for Atlantia! We need to keep drawing fire for them!’
Lieutenant Scott managed to snap back at the captain. ‘They’re done for too! Our only option is to withdraw!’
Mikhain pushed the young officer aside as he whirled to look at the tactical displays.
The Raython squadrons were fully engaged, still in the midst of the battle and twisting and turning in a violent ballet of aerial manoeuvres interspersed with countless plasma shots streaking back and forth between them. Defiance was trying to get above the plane of the battle to bring her big guns to bear on both of the frigates, to finish them now while they were fully engaged by the cruisers and unable to defend themselves. The huge carrier was rising up above them, her surface swarming with billions of Hunters that caught the light from the red dwarf star as though they were waves glinting in a sunrise.
Mikhain searched for some other option, some means of escape, some left–field inspired command or tactic that could extricate both of the frigates from their impending doom, but he could find nothing. For the first time since they had departed Ethera’s core systems in flight from the apocalypse of the Legion, he knew that they were facing true and total defeat, and to his surprise he did not feel the absolute cold embrace of resignation that he had so often assumed he would experience in the face of complete annihilation. Instead, something churned hot and fierce in his belly as he saw Taron Forge and the other pirate vessels swarming upon the enemy Raythons and blasting them.
He looked at Defiance’s hull, the massive carrier’s underbelly exposed before him.
He whirled to Lieutenant Scott.
‘Evacuate the bridge!’ Mikhain bellowed. ‘All personnel to the escape shuttles, immediately!’
Lieutenant Scott stared at the captain for a moment, as though having advised such a course of action he now regretted it or could not believe that the captain would actually understand and go through with it. Then he turned and relayed the order, and the bridge crew leaped from their stations and flooded toward the main exit.
Another blast hit Arcadia side–on and a shower of sparks exploded from wall panels around the bridge as the salvos passed through what was left of the frigate’s shields and ploughed into her hull proper. The thunderous impact had a different tone to those of plasma rounds smashing against the shields – this one was deeper and more ominous, a shuddering impact that seemed to make Arcadia groan in pain as her superstructure was directly assaulted.
‘Get off the bridge!’ Mikhain snapped at Lieutenant Scott. ‘Ensure that all personnel are aboard the shuttles and I’ll conduct the launch from here!’
‘There’s no need to be a hero captain!’ Lieutenant Scott shouted above the din of burning panels, alarm claxons and the blasts hammering the frigate’s exhausted hull. ‘We can program the launch sequence from the landing bay! Just set Arcadia’s navigation computer to withdraw and get us clear!’
Mikhain stood in the centre of the bridge’s command platform and shook his head.
‘We’re not withdrawing, lieutenant.’
Scott stared at Mikhain for a moment. ‘That’s not damned well necessary! There’s no need to sacrifice Arcadia for nothing!’
‘I’m not sacrificing her for nothing!’ Mikhain yelled back. ‘Now get off the bridge!’
‘I’m not leaving my captain behind!’
Mikhain drew his plasma pistol. ‘Get off my damned bridge now!’
Mikhain fired, the plasma shot smashing off the edge of a console and forcing Scott to leap aside in horror, the blast close enough to be dangerous. The lieutenant fled t
o the bridge exit and looked back, just in time to see Mikhain fire again. The lieutenant’s head vanished from sight as the pistol shot hit the wall next to the exit in a bright spray of plasma.
Mikhain shoved his pistol back into its holster and dashed to the helm. He staggered into the seat, the smell of burning circuitry stinging his nose and eyes as sparks showered down around him. The navigation screens were flickering, two of them smashed from where the power surges had burst through their screens. Arcadia’s automatic navigation systems were still intact but he knew that they could be damaged at any moment, as could what remained of the massive physical shielding around Arcadia’s fusion cores.
Mikhain turned the frigate’s bow slowly toward Oassia, the huge vessel lumbering around and giving the shuttle’s the best chance of escaping the battle in the shortest possible time. Mikhain glanced at the tactical displays and saw Defiance looming up above them, almost in position to deliver a fatal broadside.
‘Ranger Four, bridge, departure bay two!’
The radio call came from the launch bays and Mikhain looked up to see the last of the bay crews hurrying aboard one of three shuttles, two of them hooked up to the catapults to accelerate them out of the ship and away from the battle as fast as possible.
Mikhain keyed the communications system and replied.
‘All call signs, cleared for launch! Head for Oassia at maximum velocity!’
‘Copy that!’
Lieutenant Scott’s voice reached the captain’s ears, and he saw on one of the remaining display screens the young officer look up from the landing bay toward the optical sensor through which Mikhain was observing him. The lieutenant pointed to a nearby Raython, as yet un–launched.
‘Renegade Six is good to go!’ he called. ‘Make sure you use her!’
Mikhain looked at the parked fighter, the only one left aboard the frigate now, and he smiled.
‘Will do, lieutenant. Get going!’
Scott turned and dashed aboard the shuttle, and moments later the first two launched off the deck. Ranger Four hovered into position, and then her ion engines flared brightly as the catapults caught and she accelerated along the flight deck and shot out into space.
Defiance (Atlantia Series Book 5) Page 27
