by Tim Marquitz
“Pecking away at the front of the fleet,” she answered, snarling as the Excalibur was struck once more.
“Thirty-eight!” Genys called out.
Albion blocked her out, not wanting to know how soon the shields would fail. When they did, he did, and the Excalibur would be just one more piece of junk floating in space.
Choi veered hard to port, nearly spilling Albion from his seat. The bug destroyer careened through the space they’d only just occupied. The captain hissed. It fired as they zipped by, tinting the faces of the crew blue. He stared after it as Choi cut sharply again, keeping them at a difficult angle to fire upon, forcing the two ships in close. Albion knew it was only a matter of time until the bugs figured out a way to counter the helmsman’s maneuvers, hanging them out to dry.
Then Albion stiffened, a thought slamming home inside his skull. The cannons were useless so close but…
“Crate!”
The engineer responded, and Albion issued a rapid-fire order, barking it out.
“Uh, are you sure you want to do this?”
“Now’s not the time to question me, Crate,” Albion said. “Just do it.”
“Yes, sir.”
Even Lyana looked away when their eyes met.
Choi dodged yet another blast of cannon fire and brought the Excalibur beneath the closing bug destroyer, shields clashing once again, sparks flaring across the view screen. The ship loomed just above.
“Ready,” Crate called out.
“Now,” Albion answered.
The engineer muttered something Albion didn’t catch, but the man complied. There was a sullen thump through the comms as Crate did as he was ordered. The captain swallowed his regret at what he’d done, but it was something he could worry about later. Right then, all that mattered was taking out the remaining bug ships.
There was a flash against the Xebedon destroyer’s hull as the two ships hurtled past each other, and then the Excalibur cut another angle to stay close. The aliens predicted the shift and moved with the ship, not allowing Choi to avoid them this time. Cannon fire ripped the Excalibur’s hull as it tore through the weakened shields, scorching the frame. Claxons erupted, bathing the bridge in crimson. The ship trembled beneath him, and Albion clung to his seat.
“Shields are gone,” Genys cried out. She looked ready to vomit, but the captain couldn’t blame her. He was close himself.
“Targeted,” Lyana said, clasping to her console to stay in her seat.
Albion closed his eyes, awaiting the inevitable. With no shields, the Excalibur was an easy target, and the bugs would blow it to dust. He drew in his last breath.
Yet the blow never came.
“Sir?”
Albion peeled his eyes open to see the crew staring at the view screen, the bug destroyer floating silent before them. A moment later, the Excalibur’s alarms went silent.
“It worked,” Crate cried out over the comms, the system failing to modulate his volume. The words rang in Albion’s ears, and he slumped into his seat.
With a trembling hand, the captain pointed at the scanner. “Get to that last ship.”
Ares’s mechanical voice rumbled across the comms. “I’ll handle it, sir.” The nearby Xebedon destroyer veered off, streaking toward its companion.
“You survived?” Albion asked, amazed that, not only had the battle bot not been destroyed by being fired point blank into the side of the alien ship, but that he’d been able to infiltrate and make it all the way to the bridge, taking over the enemy craft from the Xebedon.
“You sound surprised,” Ares answered, a hint of Crate’s personality mod making him seem disappointed. “If you did not expect me to succeed, Captain, why did you do what you did?”
Albion chuckled. “I’ll explain desperation to you one day, Ares, but right now, take out that last bug ship.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Ares piloted the destroyer toward the other, firing on it the moment he circled its aft. The bug ship fell beneath the cannon fire and crumpled, splitting in half and spinning away. Albion sighed at seeing it destroyed.
“I’m not picking any more of them up,” Lyana said, anticipating Albion’s next order.
The captain’s head lolled as he felt the pressure ease from his neck. “Get Vance on the line, Commander, and set up a rendezvous point. Tell him to bring med ships” He stared out the view screen at the limping flotilla. “We’ve got a bunch of people who need to be looked after.”
Nineteen
Sector 078, Allied Space
The ragtag flotilla crept through space. Unable to enter hyperspace, the Excalibur limped alongside the rest of the ships, every moment fearing another attack by the aliens. Yet none came, only the vast emptiness of space splayed out around them.
Vice Admiral Vance, after having the Excalibur’s files and recordings forwarded to Command, had rallied the fleet and was on the way, yet Albion pushed the flotilla onward. Though each sector they traveled unmolested eased a little more of his worries, they still clung to the shipping lanes where the vast majority of the ships being escorted had disappeared from to begin with. If there were more bugs in the area, no one would know before it was too late. With no shields, the Excalibur damaged, the last thing he wanted to do was face down another destroyer or ten.
Hours later, the hyper-vigilance had taken its toll. Albion yawned as they eased through space, only the chatter of the captains running back and forth across a local channel, coordinating their ships and keeping the flotilla organized. Albion had tuned the noise out, half-asleep as he reclined in his seat, staring out the view screen as allied space crawled past. His chin nodded toward his chest, but the sharp edge of Lyana’s voice brought him fully aware, adrenaline firing through his veins.
“The CSS Shan just collided with the Peregrine,” she said, bringing the ships onscreen.
Albion stared at the two small civilian crafts, their hulls entangled, the Shan pushing the other ship aside as it drove into its side. Both ships’ engines continued to fire, the two starting to spin out of control.
He stared, unable to look away. “Turn up the channel.”
An array of chaotic voices filled the bridge. Then Zane’s voice echoed across the comms, silencing the chatter. He questioned the captains of the two ships yet there was no response. A moment later, the captain fired a message directly at the Excalibur.
“What’s going on? Are there bugs on our tail?”
Albion glanced at Lyana, and she shook her head. “We’d have picked them up if there were.”
“Negative, Captain,” Albion answered. “We’ll drift back and—”
Lyana cut him off. “Another ship has fallen away,” she said. “The CSS Carnival.” She brought the public channel back up, strange, gurgling static filling it before it went silent.
“What the hell was that?” Zane asked.
Albion shrugged despite knowing the other captain couldn’t see him. “Bring us around to the Carnival.”
“It’s in the middle of the pack,” Choi said, shaking his head. “There’s no way this can be the bugs.”
“We’re losing another one,” Zane called out, and Albion spied a small cruiser drop out of formation, diving away without regard to any of the other ships around it. It clipped a cruiser, sending the smaller ship tumbling away.
“Crate!”
“Sir?”
“Can you hack into the Carnival’s system and tell us what—?”
A harsh, wet gurgle interrupted Albion. He spun in his seat to find the source and saw Genys hunched over her console, gagging. Sweat poured from her, and she spasmed in her seat. From what Albion could see, her pale skin was flush now, her cheeks scarlet as if she were choking.
“What’s wrong, Lieutenant?” Albion hopped from his seat and ran to her. He stopped short when a low, guttural roar spilled from her.
“What the hell?”
Mara’s helmsman stiffened, bolting upright in her seat, her head lolling at an unnatural
angle, veins throbbing at her neck. Her eyes were wide, and Albion noticed streaks of red spilled from them, running down her cheeks.
“Crate! Mara!” Albion shouted over the comms. “We’re going to need the med gear up here. Now!”
There was a wet, ripping sound that echoed through the bridge, and Albion froze, his eyes locked on Genys. Her head rolled back even further and large, fleshy bubbles appeared at her throat, her neck rippling. Blood spewed from her mouth, splattering the console and gushing out toward the floor.
That was when Albion realized what had happened to the other ships.
“Weapons,” he screamed, stumbling away from Genys, but it was too late.
The bubbles at her throat burst, and she flopped onto her back as hundreds of tiny black, spider-like creatures erupted from her flesh. Each was the size of a clenched fist. They spilled on the floor of the bridge, clicks and high-pitched squees filling the air.
Lyana screamed and dove for the weapons locker while Choi stared on wide-eyed. The alien brood swarmed toward the crew, tiny mouths chattering. Albion kicked the first of the creatures to come close, feeling the hard shell of its carapace thud against his boot. A second flew away right after, but the mass of bugs was on him them. Several latched onto his boots, and he felt them gnawing, tearing at the leather with razor sharp teeth. He stumbled back as one clambered up his leg and locked its maw onto his shin. Blood spilled warm down his leg, a sharp, burning shooting into his thigh. Albion backhanded the creature, his knuckles stinging from the blow, sending the alien flying, but another took its place. Then another, teeth sinking into the meat of his leg again and again. He threw himself at his chair, desperate to put some distance between him and the swarm of aliens. The open channels shrieked in his ears as he struggled to escape.
Choi cursed, shaking off his surprise, and stumbled away from his station, following after Lyana, but the bugs had spilled into the space between them. Several had latched onto the helmsman’s leg, and he batted at them, screaming as blood stained his pants leg. One latched onto his hand, and Albion heard the crunch of bone as it bit down.
And then Lyana was there.
The flicker of a laz-blade blurred past Choi’s hand and the back half of the bug fell away, severed and oozing greenish pus. Choi peeled the other half away, tossing it aside as the commander stuffed a rifle in his hand. Teeth bared, pain and fear slathered across his face like a mask, he turned the weapon on the mass of skittering bugs.
Sharp teeth ripped more flesh from his legs as Albion stood in his seat, peeling the creatures from his flesh. He howled as they were ripped away, skin tearing, the consequence for every success. Lyana blasted the space in front of his chair, scorching a dozen of the bugs. They skreeed as they withered, curling in on themselves, insectile limbs shriveling. Choi joined her a moment later, and more of the bugs died.
Albion felt a thump reverberate through the Excalibur, and Albion envisioned another of the infested ships careening into his, but there wasn’t time to worry about it. He just had to hope the hull held. Lyana tossed him the laz-blade, and he wasted no time putting it to work, slicing away the bugs that gnawed at him. Infantile versions of the larger Xebedon, the things had none of their parents’ toughness yet. The blade cut through their shells easily, the creatures falling away dead, trailing Albion’s blood.
The transit shaft whirred behind him, and Albion spun about to see Crate and Mara, both armed and armored, burst onto the bridge.
“Comms are still open,” Crate said as if feeling the need to explain himself. Albion didn’t give a damn how they knew to be there prepared, just that they were.
Mara slammed a rifle into his hand as she passed. Albion grinned, dropping the blade to his chair as he took hold of the rifle with both hands and joined Lyana and Choi in blasting the bugs that still ran amok. By then, they had spread across the bridge, bugs skittering across the floor, the consoles, the walls, and ceiling. They were everywhere, dozens crawling toward the transit shaft.
“Keep them contained,” Albion shouted, hopping over the back of his seat to chase the ones attempting to flee the bridge.
One dropped from the ceiling, nipping his ear as it flew past. It hit the ground with a thump, and Albion drove his heel into it, crushing the bug, ooze splattering out from under his boot. He blasted several more but the mass had scattered, limiting the effectiveness of his shots. They were getting away. No one at their stations, there would be no shutting down the transit before they reached it, spilling into the rest of the ship. If that happened, there was no telling what would happen. They might damage the ship or simply wait to reach port where they could slip away and mature, growing into a full bug infestation somewhere deep inside allied space.
Albion realized then that was exactly what they’d wanted.
The sole purpose behind collecting ships and their crews from all over the system was so that the bugs could infiltrate everywhere at once, digging in and infecting planets all across allied space. Albion growled and blasted more of the bugs as they skittered toward the transit shaft. He’d screwed up and done exactly what the bugs had wanted. He raised his rifle, targeting the last of the bugs before him, but the transit shaft flickered before he could fire.
Ares appeared out of the shaft, a whirlwind of limbs. Crouched low, he scooped the tiny bugs up and tossed them away from the shaft, all while slashing and blasting them. The bugs flew through the air, falling away in puffs of ash or in oozing pieces. Albion’s nose filled with the sour stench of the bugs, the smell making his eyes water, but he joined the bot in laying waste to the creatures as they scrambled to escape the bot’s wrath.
Not more than a few minutes later, with Ares’s help, the last of the bugs had been killed, their steaming, wilted carcasses littering the bridge.
“All of the aliens accounted for, Captain,” Ares said, swiveling in place as he scanned the ship.
Albion sighed, but he found it hard to feel any sort of relief. Mara stood over Genys, the helmsman’s body a twisted wreck. Her limbs were splayed awkwardly, and her shattered ribs jutted from her torso, her body torn open from the chest up. She’d been eaten from the inside out.
“Take her to the infirmary,” Albion told Ares, pointing to the broken woman. “And start cleaning up the mess as soon as you’ve done that.”
Ares shuffled by Mara and scooped up the helmsman. Albion expected Mara to resist, to argue, but she just stared, sad-eyed as the bot collected the woman and carted her off. She watched until they disappeared into the transit shaft.
Lyana, having cleared her station off as well as she was able, had plopped down in her seat, staring at the sensors. “We’ve lost another eight ships, Captain.”
“Order the flotilla to stay together as best they can and hail Vance,” he answered, dropping into his own seat, rubbing at his temples. His legs burned from where the bugs had torn at him, and his ear stung, and he knew that Choi hurt just the same, but there was no putting off what had to be done.
“Sir?”
“Just do it, Commander.”
Lyana nodded and did as she was ordered. A moment later, Vice Admiral Vance’s solemn countenance appeared onscreen.
“We have a problem,” Albion told him. He didn’t wait for the admiral to respond before going on. “We’ve freed the kidnapped ships, but the bugs implanted their brood inside a number of the hostages while they were being held captive. There’s no doubt they intended them to be carried back to their home planets where they would eventually burst loose and infiltrate. We screwed up the timeline by pulling the hostages out of their stasis chambers, and now the bugs are hatching and killing everyone.” Albion sighed as he pictured what was happening aboard the other starships. They’d only had one infestation to deal with, and it had nearly done them in. He could only imagine the horror of a whole ship crawling with the tiny bugs.
“You know what you have to do, Captain,” Vance said and, for the first time ever, Albion spied what appeared to be true regret
on the Vice Admiral’s face. “We’re moments out from your location, but none of these ships can get away before we reach you, Albion. Do you understand?”
Albion swallowed hard as he met the admiral’s eyes. The last time he’d been ordered to fire on innocents, the captain had rebelled, turned his back on his career and everything he’d worked for in defiance of a bad order. He couldn’t bring himself to kill people who had done nothing wrong, who were simply victims of the politicians who had maneuvered them onto the front lines. This time, however, there was no hesitation.
He nodded. “I’ll do what needs to be done, sir.” Albion closed the connection and motioned to Lyana. “Ready the cannons.”
“No,” she said, the word coming out in a growl. “We can’t—”
“We have to,” he answered, cutting her off. “Fire at the engines and cripple as many of the ships as possible.” He slumped into his seat.
“But the fleet will kill them.”
He nodded. “They’re already dead, Commander,” he said. “I screwed up taking them off planet. This is my fault.” Albion pounded a fist against his chest. “Had I left them in their stasis chambers, Command would have killed them in their sleep and they wouldn’t be suffering.”
“You can’t blame yourself,” Mara told him, coming to stand beside him. Her armored hand settled on his shoulder.
“I can, and I am,” he said. “My decision freed these things to infest all these ships.” He motioned to the flotilla splayed out across the view screen, more ships listing and falling away every second. “Do what I ordered, Commander.”
Lyana growled and fired the cannons, bursts of blue energy trailing across space to slam into the nearest of the flotilla ship’s engines. It crumpled under the assault, leaving the ship to float helplessly in space. Choi maneuvered the Excalibur over the caravan of ships and Lyana fired again and again, crippling the unshielded crafts one by one.
“What are you doing, Albion?” Zane’s voice screeched across the comms.
