by Tim Marquitz
“The military will storm down here and wreak havoc!” Captain Jayde shouted.
“Indeed they will.” Albion nodded. “The same military who blocked channels to keep the news of the bugs contained? The same military who sent a single ship to investigate this planet despite a host of evidence pointing to its use by the bugs? The same exact military that allowed your ships and crews to be captured and hauled away in allied space without so much as asking about you?” Albion paused, letting his words sink in. “They will indeed wreak havoc, Captain, but if you think it will only be the aliens who suffer their wrath, you’re a fool.”
Captain Jayde went to argue, but Zane shouted her down. “He’s right.” The old captain snarled and came to stand beside Albion, facing the other captains. “Covenant Command doesn’t care about us.” He waved a hand at the scores of stasis chambers surrounding them. “It’s not possible the bugs filled all these chambers in a couple of weeks or even months. Not without anyone noticing our ships disappearing. That means some of us have likely been here for cycles.”
The captain’s words settled over the crowd, silencing them more effectively than even Crate’s use of the med bot’s amplifiers had.
“That means the only people who care about us is us. If Albion here flies off and confirms the presence of the bugs in allied space while we sit here and wait, what do you think is going to happen?” he asked, continuing before anyone could say anything. “They’ll drop world-busters on our head, is what.”
Gasps rose from the gathering, voices jumping in to argue, but Zane silenced them all with a hiss.
“Don’t act so surprised, people. This planet is off the grid in a remote section of allied space, a hostile, barren waste that Covenant has no stake in. We’ve here, for who knows how long, with these damn bugs experimenting on us,” he reached down and rubbed at the pale scar across his belly, “and some of you still think we have a choice?”
“But what if—?” Captain Jayde started, Zane cutting her off with a grunt.
“What if what, Captain? If we stay here, we’re dead. All of us.”
“Do you think our leaving makes a difference?” another captain asked from the crowd.
Albion stepped forward. “It makes it harder for Command to erase you without consequence,” he said, quieting the crowd. “There are somewhere north of fifty ships out there, and while, yeah, there’s a good chance that several of you aren’t going to make it past the land gate, once we’re in open space, the fleet can’t just nuke you all at once to make the alien invasion vanish.”
“Besides,” Zane said, cutting in, “Covenant is going to want to question us, to learn what happened. This isn’t some standard alien invasion, people. The bugs are up to something. You ever hear of them kidnapping ships or people before?”
The was a muttered agreement that filtered through the crowd. Albion wanted to argue the captain’s point but thought it best to stay quiet. Nothing good would come from the military questioning the crews of the kidnapped ships. He couldn’t imagine Vance letting a single person, which likely included Albion and his crew, walking away to spread rumors as to what had happened on Dev-ji 482. The escape from the planet, however necessary, was little more than a stopgap measure to avoid being killed on site by a trigger-happy military. In space, the crowd of ships had a chance of avoiding a messy death.
Well, once they broke free of the Xebedon patrol outside the land gate.
“We don’t have a choice here, people,” Zane said.
“So, you want us to form a convoy of unarmed ships and push through the gate and hope we’re not the ones the aliens blow up while we make a run for it?”
Albion sighed. He could have worded the reality better, but Captain Jayde wasn’t wrong. It was exactly what Albion was suggesting.
“There is that risk, yes,” Albion answered, “but staying here guarantees you die. If the military doesn’t kill you in their efforts to purify the planet, the bugs we leave behind will undoubtedly kill you because whatever they have planned can’t be good for your health. They might even murder you outright as the rest of us are screwing up their plans by leaving.” He motioned toward the entryway. “The only real option we have is to push through the gate and run.”
The captains muttered among themselves, arguing the pros and cons and spewing their opinions left and right, but Albion cut their debate short.
“Look, we don’t have time for all this,” he said. “You’re either in or you’re not, but my ship and crew are leaving soon, regardless. I don’t want to leave anyone behind, but I will. Without hesitation,” he told them, his gaze scanning the crowd and landing on Captain Jayde. “I have no idea when the bugs will realize we’ve screwed up their little project, whatever it is, and come storming down here to set things right. I don’t plan to be here when that happens.” He waved Crate over, the engineer pushing through the crowd to stand alongside Albion. “Since it will take too much work to load the stasis chambers with the small number of people we have available, have your pets start waking everyone up. We need to get moving.”
“Captain.” Crate offered a lazy salute and started off, a slew of med bots following after him like lost puppies.
“The rest of you, make your way to your ships and ensure they’re space worthy. If they’re not, hitch a ride with another that is but, whatever you do, do not liftoff or attempt to broadcast any signals off-planet. Doing so will get us all killed and, as much as I want to help everyone get home, my crew and I will vanish with the only armed ship you have defending your asses. Am I clear?”
The captains muttered complaints but Albion tuned them out and waved them toward their ships, promising to send their crews and passengers the same way as soon as they were up and ambulatory.
“Keep an eye on them, Choi,” he said once the captains were out of earshot. “If any of them try to leave, blow their engines.”
“Sir?”
“I’m serious, Lieutenant.” Albion sighed as the helmsman confirmed the order.
“You’d strand them here?” Mara asked, Lyana looming behind her with a grimace.
“Not by choice,” he answered. “We need them on the ground until we pass through the gate or the bugs will detect the power surge of liftoff and realize what we intend, and unless all of you want to die on this forsaken dirt hole because some captain got antsy…” He let the sentence hang, and Mara and Lyana shook their heads. “I didn’t think so.” Albion called to Crate over the comms. “Wake Genys up. We’re going to need all hands on deck for this.”
“And the rest of my crew?” Mara stared at him, her violet eyes piercing.
“When they turn up, we’ll find a place for them. Until then, let’s get Randall and his tube loaded.” He glanced toward the ceiling. “We’re already pushing our luck. We need to get moving.”
The captain sighed and marched off, headed toward Randall’s stasis chamber. In a way, he envied the kid. He had no idea what was coming.
Albion could only wish to be so lucky.
Eighteen
Dev-ji 482
The Excalibur hovered above the field, and Albion watched from the bridge as the makeshift armada idled below. Battered and bruised, he was glad to hear that all but three of the ships were capable of space travel. The bugs had been careful in their attacks, doing their best to keep the ships intact and, unlike the Ithaca, which Mara had retrofitted with military-grade defense shields and a weapons array that she used against the Xebedons, the captains had surrendered before the aliens got too aggressive. That had kept the ships space-worthy. Now, Albion only had to worry that the captains would do what they were supposed to do so he wasn’t forced to do something he’d regret.
Choi had warned them of Albion’s threat, though he’d couched it in far friendlier terms, but they’d understood. Which was good. The last thing Albion wanted to do was fire on one of the ships, they’d been through more than enough, but he couldn’t risk drawing more attention to themselves than they already we
re. The Excalibur could slip back through the gate easily enough without any real threat of a challenge, but as soon as the rest of the ships pushed enough power through their plas-stones to take off, the bugs outside the gate would figure out what was going on.
With no idea as to just how many enemy ships waited outside the gate, or in nearby space, the risk was already greater than Albion wanted his crew to have to face. Surprise would only get them so far, but not having that surprise would almost certainly guarantee the Excalibur would go down in flames right alongside the legion of unarmed ships he had convinced to make a run for it.
His stomach in knots as Choi eased them upward, Albion surveyed the bridge. Mara’s helmsman Genys had taken over for Randall, whose stasis tube was lashed to the floor in the infirmary, Crate’s monstrosity of a generator powering the chamber to keep the ensign in deep stasis. Mara stayed with him to ensure he remained stable.
Genys seemed competent enough, Albion thought as he watched her work, trusting in Mara’s judgment of the woman, not that he had much choice in the matter. Still, she looked pale, and Albion wondered if she were fully recovered from her ordeal. Lyana had given the woman a spare uniform and it hung off her thin frame like a sheet. She’d rolled the sleeves up, Lyana easily a half foot taller than Genys, and the twigs of her arms jutted out, fingers hovering over the console. A quiet cough slipped loose of her now and again, but Albion didn’t have time to worry about her health right then. There were too many other lives at stake.
“Everyone ready?” he asked, and the crew called out affirmatives. “Okay then, Choi, remind the captains not to move until we hit that gate, and let’s get on with it.”
“Sir,” Choi answered, sending a narrow burst communique to the ships waiting below. As soon as he was done, he angled the Excalibur toward the gate and accelerated.
The land gate grew larger and larger on the view screen, it’s roiling blackness mimicking the mood of Albion’s guts. The blackness expanded until it was all he could see as they approached.
“Convoy is still in place,” Choi called out, doing little to ease Albion’s nerves. “Contact with the gate in three…two…”
The uncomfortable tingle of entering the portal washed over Albion, and he clasped at his armrests as the Excalibur was enveloped. He swallowed hard against the growing knot in his throat, knowing they only had seconds before the realization of his plan. It all hinged on him and his crew now.
The absolute void of the portal gave way to speckled space as the Excalibur slipped from the gate and emerged above the dusty planet Dev-ji 482. Albion growled through clenched teeth, certain the bugs knew what was coming, expecting to hear the screech of the claxons just before the Excalibur was turned to so much dust.
“Push Crate’s friendly little signal across all channels and find those ships,” he called out. “Steady on until you do, shields and weapons at the ready but cold. I don’t want them catching on.” The Excalibur crept forward through empty space in silence, the collective breaths of everyone on the bridge held in uncertainty.
“There!” Lyana called out, putting the scanner findings on the screen. Four Xebedon destroyers phased in and swooped their way. The claxons stayed quiet. “No targeting on us…yet.”
Albion nodded. “That won’t last long.” He watched the scanner for a moment, making the decision to act. “Bring us around, Choi.”
“Sir.” The helmsman slowed and spun the Excalibur about.
“Dump the mines, Crate!” he shouted, waving at Lyana. “Full shields and fire at will.”
The bridge lights dimmed, and Albion’s eyes narrowed as the shields came up and Lyana turned the Excalibur’s cannons on the first of the alien crafts. Caught off guard, the ship’s bridge exploded, the commander’s shots blasting the bugs dead on. Crippled, it fell away without a sound, trailing a line of debris as Lyana turned the guns on another ship.
One of the mines got there first. It fluttered as it shifted into phase space and exploded a moment later. Bright orange flashes lit the ship from inside, and Lyana put the bugs out of their misery, cannon fire ripping along the hull and piercing the engines. The ship shattered in half, the front dropping away as the back listed and careened toward its companions.
“Incoming!” Choi shouted. Not that he needed to.
Bursts of energy crashed into the Excalibur’s shields and rattled the bridge. The lights flickered, and Albion teeth ground together at the impact. This close, there was no avoiding the damage.
“Status!”
“Shields at eighty percent,” Genys called out. “Holding steady.”
Lyana had moved to the next enemy, and he watched as she pounded its shields. Choi had taken the initiative and placed the wreckage of one of the ships between them and the remaining bug ships, forcing them to adjust before they could return fire again.
“Three more destroyers sliding out of phase,” Lyana said, her fingers a blur against the console. Blue energy flashed by the view screen, coloring the bridge in its wake.
“Too many to handle.” Albion snarled as he watched the three new ships appear on his scanners.
The second of Crate’s mines exploded as it neared a bug ship, forcing it to veer sharply away. Albion was about to order the commander to concentrate her fire on it when the proximity alerts reared up.
“Pull back!” he screamed, his stomach lurching as Choi complied.
An instant later, the solid blackness of the land gate rippled and a ship burst through. The Xebedon destroyer directly in its path, the two ships collided, the freighter tearing through the bug craft, mangling its bridge in the process. The two tumbled away, shedding pieces of their respective hulls as they imploded.
Albion slammed his fist against the armrest of his chair as he watched the gate rippled again and again, the flotilla of battered ships spilling into free space. The Excalibur forgotten in the rush, the bugs turned on the civilian ships. A pleasure liner was engulfed in brilliant flares, and Albion was forced to look away as the view screen adjusted. When he looked back, the giant cruiser was a gutted husk that spun away into space.
Without being ordered, Choi cut across the emerging caravan of starships, dodging and veering through the interstellar stampede to bring them behind one of the alien destroyers. Lyana unloaded on it just as the bug ship fired its own guns. The Excalibur’s hit first, crashing into its unshielded aft and burning scorching holes through the interior of the ship. Blasted sideways, the Xebedon’s blasts hurtled through the mass of civilian ships, doing nothing more than grazing one, leaving a black trail of char in its wake.
“The bugs killed the hyperdrives,” Captain Zane said, his voice echoing through the Excalibur’s bridge. “Even if we could get clear of each other, we’re stuck in core space. Can you kill these damn things?”
“Doing my best, Captain.” Albion groaned, having given no thought to the idea that the aliens had tampered with the ships. With no idea what they intended to use the flotilla for, what other surprises did he have to look forward to?
“My men are working on the drive, Albion, but the Bolton has redundancies most other ships don’t have,” Zane went on. “We might be able to get out of here, but if you can’t keep the bugs off the rest of the fleet, they’re dead.”
“No pressure, Captain,” Albion said through clenched teeth after cutting the comms. The Excalibur shuddered as a bug destroyer fired on them, only hammering home the uncertainty the captain felt at having to take out another three of the enemy ships.
“A second bug incoming,” Lyana said, marking it on the screen. Cannon fire strafed the shields not a heartbeat later. Beneath them, the last of the civilian ships poured from the gate, directly into enemy fire.
Choi spun them out of the line of fire, the crew pinned in their seats a moment at the abruptness of the maneuver. Lyana took advantage and targeted the nearest destroyer. The cannons crashed into its starboard hull and pushed the ship into the last of Crate’s floating mines. The engineer triggere
d it early, but it was enough. A gaping black hole appeared on the side of the ship, black striations spider-webbing along the hull and ripping apart the engines. It fell away firing, streaks of energy burning off into the vastness of space.
The Excalibur rattled again as the second alien ship closed, trailing a line of fire across its hull.
“Shields at forty-five percent, Captain,” Genys called out. Her eyes were wide, black pools against the paleness of her face. “Generator’s fluctuating. She won’t…won’t be…” Genys drew in a deep breath in an effort to continue, but Albion waved her off.
“Understood, Lieutenant,” he told her, looking to Choi. “Keep us from getting hit.”
The helmsman chuckled. “I knew I’d forgotten to do something.”
The Excalibur banked sharply, diving beneath the incoming bug ship and avoiding a burst of bluish cannon fire. Their shields collided, sparks flaring to life and dying out in a flash. Albion watched, dots of fire speckling his eyes, his gaze trailing the contours of the alien craft. They were so close he felt he could reach out and run a hand along the hull. It was too close, however, there was no way to bring the cannons to bear without serious risk of destroying the Excalibur along with the aliens.
“Crate!”
“Sir,” the engineer answered over the comms.
“Any more mines?”
“No, sir,” he said. “Not any with phase.”
“Damn it.” Albion clasped at his chair as the Xebedon destroyer came at them once more and Choi narrowly avoided its cannon fire, the twos ships nearly colliding again. “Where’s that last bug, Commander?”
