Trapped

by Scott Bartlett

  “The Brood hailed us. They spoke to us in our own language.”

  The astonished look of the Scion was unmistakable, even on an alien face. “That’s impossible. What did they want?”

  Husher shook his head. “Me.”

  Chapter 40

  Scion Mobile Command Post

  In orbit over Skisel, Scion homeworld

  “Welcome aboard, Captain,” said a Scion wearing an elaborate head covering.

  Husher assumed such garb was the norm for the Scion. He’d yet to see one that didn’t wear colorful robes, and humongous headgear with various protrusions that seemed to serve no obvious purpose. This one looked like an old-style candelabra, and Husher had to force himself not to stare.

  The creature moved aside and allowed Husher, Iver, and the other captains of the lead ships to step forward into the huge vessel.

  The Scion had described it as a “mobile command post,” and Husher had to admit that it seemed like an apt description. He thought of it more as a cross between a starship and a defense platform. It had looked formidable enough as the shuttle brought him toward it: all sleek blue hues, it was many times bigger than the Providence, and bristled with plasma weapons. Like the orbital platforms of the Milky Way, much of its mass seemed devoted to weaponry and ordnance. As such, he suspected its mobility was limited to this system. The energy requirements to take something that colossal into warp would be staggering, and probably unfeasible.

  The Scion wouldn’t let the human battle group near their home planet, but that didn’t mean they didn’t want to work with them. In fact, after Husher’s announcement, they were eager to have him join them on their mobile command post.

  “Are you kidding me?” Captain Hystad said, gawking around at the war room as they walked into it.

  The chamber was clearly an immersive experience, with functioning holotech—a technology that had remained beyond the grasp of every species in the Milky Way. Even the advanced ships of the Progenitors, with their dark tech devices, had nothing like this available to them. The entire system, and vast parts of the space beyond, was represented by dots of light with projected data. As Husher reached out and touched a planet, the data field around it changed to give him new information, albeit in glyphs he couldn’t begin to understand.

  “I’m thinking it’s time the Relentless got an upgrade,” Husher said, chuckling. His quip belied the awe he experienced as he gazed upon the setup.

  A group of dots clustered near the planet Skisel obviously represented the human battle group, and near them was a mass of light showing the location of the very station they were on. It was a little disconcerting to see his own location as a small dot holo-projected into the middle of the vast room.

  “My name is Regan,” said a sharp voice.

  The voice was nothing like the soothing, computerized one Husher had heard so far from the other Scions.

  “Your voice,” Husher said, walking across to meet the alien. “It’s different.”

  Regan nodded. “My consciousness is directly linked with this facility. I don’t just command this facility. I am the facility. From this central location, all the Scion fleet is coordinated with the home fleet. The protection of our home planet is my only job. It is my life.”

  The Scion’s words echoed inside Husher’s head: I am the facility. That sounded a lot like lucid tech—or rather, the scale to which the IU had been planning to take lucid tech before they abandoned the idea as too dangerous. But apparently the Scions had figured it out. Another notch in their belt as a species.

  Husher clasped his hands together. “We’ve learned a little about how important your homeworld is to your people. It tells me that your role is one of great honor.”

  “It is. I carry the ultimate responsibility of my ancestors.” Regan studied Husher for a moment. “You walk with a confidence that speaks of many lives lived. You channel your ancestors well.”

  Husher wondered how he was supposed to respond to that. Based on what he’d learned so far, this was a great compliment. In the end, he bowed, and the alien responded in kind.

  Husher returned his focus to the holodisplay that stretched throughout the room. “We know what the Brood are, but we aren’t any closer to understanding what they want.”

  “Other than wanting you…no, we don’t. But we do know how they will attack.” Regan reached up and swept his hand through the sky. The stars spun, until Husher had no idea what they were looking at.

  “This is typical of their more recent attacks, after they studied our defenses.” Regan pinched the air, and the view zoomed in on a portion of space. A single Brood ship was visible. “The Brood attack units tend to be coordinated by one central hive mind. We call them Ancestorless. I’m not sure how that term will translate for you. But regardless.” He progressed the attack forward in time, with both sides exchanging units and ordnance at blinding speed. “They attack in patterns for the most part, but when tighter coordination is necessary, the Ancestorless will take control of units directly.”

  “You mentioned the Brood targeted your colonies first. Have they ever attacked your home system?”

  “Brood Stomachs are capable of appearing at virtually any coordinates in space. And yet, they have not yet attempted to infiltrate this system in that way. We think we know why: the long-range plasma cannon installations we have distributed throughout it. They are concentrated around Skisel, but they cover the entire star system, including the asteroid belt circling it. Put simply, wherever the Brood choose to appear, they will be surrounded by those weapons.”

  Husher felt uneasy about that. “Do the Brood know the exact locations of these cannons?”

  Regan blinked—a momentous event, with his enormous Scion’s eyes. “Yes. Lately, they’ve been jumping in and out with a small recon force, and we assume they are doing just that: mapping our defenses. It’s frustrating, but there is little we can do. Like our ancestral planet, the cannons themselves are sacred, as they have protected our world for millennia. They represent the finest achievement of our ancestors. Most of them are larger than the largest of your ships, and capable of firing halfway across the system.”

  Husher knew all about stationary defenses, and how their owners could come to over-rely on them. The setup Regan was describing sounded similar to that of the Kaithe, who had trusted their ancient Preserver to protect their homeworld from hostile species. Right up until the day the superweapon was destroyed.

  Even the most powerful weapons were vulnerable. They might need to look for another advantage. “Can you explain how they’re able to drop out of space seemingly anywhere they want?”

  A burst of light exploded into existence on the holodisplay, right in front of Husher’s face. He instinctively jerked back in surprise. The red blob of light quickly expanded, and Husher could see that it was made up of thousands of dots of light, tightly packed together. More and more streamed in to join the cloud.

  Even on the alien hologram, Husher didn’t need anyone to translate what was happening for him.

  The Brood had arrived.

  Chapter 41

  MIMAS Mech staging area

  Secondary hangar, UHC Relentless

  The order to mobilize came straight from Husher. He was off-ship, but hurrying back. Gamble relayed it in his thoughtful manner. “We got all kinds of shit heading our way. I want those mechs of yours up and humming, yesterday.”

  Jake had a lot of questions, but he knew when he was expected to swallow them.

  He called the team down to the hangar where the mechs were, and started everyone suiting up. He didn’t like to have the team entering the mech dream until they had to, but they could still get suited up and wait inside their mechs.

  The giant war machines towered over the team members, who got ready in silence. Often the moments before action were lighthearted, the team buzzing with excitement and rearing to go.

  This wasn’t one of those times. What they’d seen already in this universe was enough
to make anyone somber. As the mission had progressed, there had been a general sense of dread starting to seep through all levels of the ship. The stakes were as high as anything Jake had seen in his life.

  He had his suit on and was about to don his helmet when Ash grabbed his arm.

  “You with us?” she asked.

  “Of course.”

  “I mean it, Jake.” She peered into his eyes.

  He took a deep breath. If there was anyone in the world he could confide in, it was Ash. “You know what it’s like. I just need to get clear and focus on the mission. All that other stuff—”

  “All that other stuff is what the problem is, Jake.” Her voice was tight. “You get that, right?”

  “I can keep it off my mind.”

  “You don’t need it off your mind. You need to get that shit figured out.”

  “What, right now? I think the team has more important things to worry about.”

  “The team needs their leader to get a clear head.”

  “What is there to figure out?” Jake had stopped gearing up.

  Ash glanced around. They still had a few minutes before the real push started. “She doesn’t love you.”

  Jake frowned. “What?”

  “Lisa doesn’t love you.”

  He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Maybe it was simply the mention of her name. It had been a long time since he’d even said it out loud, let alone heard it. But he knew it was more than that. What Ash had said was like someone cutting inside his chest and ripping his heart out.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “She’s barely alive, Jake. It’s the truth. You know it. I know it.” She leaned back, shaking her head. “You can’t get her back. She’s not coming back. You can blame yourself until the world ends, and you can love her until the world ends.” With that, Ash got right in his face. “But she can never love you back.”

  He tried to push her away, but Ash wouldn’t let him. She stayed right up in his personal space.

  “You don’t know that. I’ve been to see her.”

  “We’ve all been to see her, Jake.”

  “I don’t need her to love me to—”

  “You have someone in this life who loves you. She loves you right now. Just like you are, you sorry piece of shit.”

  He felt his heart stop. “Iris.”

  Ash nodded. “That girl’s so stupid that she actually loves you. I saw her traipsing around with you on the Vesta. She was looking at you like you were the world. And last I checked, somehow, inexplicably, she still loved you even when you couldn’t stop thinking about Lisa. Lisa, who’s gone and is never coming back.”

  “I can’t just abandon her. I abandoned her before, and look what happened.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “But—”

  “It’s not your fault,” Ash repeated. “And there’s no going back to fix it.”

  Jake was staring down at the helmet in his hands. It suddenly felt small and unimportant, which was crazy when he was in the middle of gearing up for the most important fight of his life.

  “Iris loves you,” Ash continued. “She wants to be with you. Stop being an idiot by denying happiness for both of you.”

  She kicked Jake in the shin. Hard. “Ow!” he said, rubbing his prosthetic leg, which communicated the sensation exactly like a natural leg would. “God, your talks are the worst.”

  “I’ll kick you someplace you’ll remember if I have to have this little chat with you again.”

  She put on her helmet and spun around, strapping into her flight suit while she walked toward her mech.

  Jake watched her go and tried to process his thoughts. He should be mad as hell at her. How dare she say those things about Lisa? She was so out of line it was crazy.

  But he had to admit, somewhere deep down that he didn’t like to look, she was right. He loved Ash like a sister, and she was right. He was making everyone unhappy. Lisa could never love him. And Jake and Iris could never be together until Jake admitted that.

  “I’m an idiot,” he said aloud.

  “We all know that,” Tucker said, casually walking past him toward his own mech.

  Jake flipped him off before standing up. He watched the other members of Oneiri Team climb into their mechs.

  With that, he put on his helmet and started toward his own MIMAS. He suddenly realized how important this mission was to him. It wasn’t just about survival. It was about getting back to Iris. Because she deserved to know that he loved her, too.

  “We ready for this, Oneiri?”

  “You know it,” Maura said.

  “Bring it on,” Driscoll and Hong said in unison.

  “Good,” Jake said. “Because we’re about to kick some serious ass.”

  Chapter 42

  Combat Information Center

  UHC Relentless

  “This is the largest Brood swarm we’ve encountered,” Regan said. He was moving quickly now, limbs flying through the air as the view in front of him flashed through screen after screen, data and ships and maps all blurring together in a fast-moving train of images that left Husher blinded. He had to turn away before he got motion sickness. “They’ve appeared near our cannon installations on the belt.”

  Husher was back on the CIC of the Relentless, having rushed to his ship, just as the other captains had rushed to theirs. But Regan had left a transmission view up for them to share.

  “Let’s just go audio-only for Regan, Coms.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Put a tactical display on the main viewscreen.” The view switched to a more conventional view of the sector, and Husher saw that the Brood was still amassing units, the cloud of red dots growing even larger. “How many enemy units have arrived, Winterton”

  As he said it, a flash of energy lit up the tactical display—and the entire CIC, for a moment.

  “What the hell was that?” Shota said.

  “Energy signature,” Winterton said. “Sensors went offline momentarily.”

  “It was one of those plasma cannons,” Tremaine said from tactical, his voice almost reverential. On the tactical display, a huge gaping hole was ripped into the side of the cloud of red Brood dots, almost like someone had taken a knife and stabbed straight into the heart of it. The dots that were there had simply disappeared. The knife ripped through clean to the other side of the cloud, and there was even more destruction among the red dots as they smashed into each other on the edges of the open space torn through the cloud’s middle.

  Still, just like air filling back into a sudden vacuum, the red dots quickly closed back in, becoming whole again.

  But the cloud was noticeably smaller now.

  “Holy—” said Shota, his mouth agape. “How many ships did that destroy?”

  Husher stared at the tactical display, his lips pressed firmly together. Peppered through the cloud of smaller red dots were a handful of larger ones. The Stomachs. Whereas Husher was used to seeing them appear and then unload hundreds of Wayfarers, these had appeared in-system with the smaller units already deployed, forming a buffer surrounding them.

  “Not as many as it needed to,” he said.

  The enemy was using their own ships as a shield against the plasma cannons. What kind of creatures could give up such huge numbers purely for defensive purposes? The thought was staggering. From a tactical standpoint, Husher would only expect such a tactic from an enemy with an almost endless supply of troops. The only resource that was expendable was one you had an unlimited supply of.

  Without warning, the enemy swarm fractured, and a steady stream of the smaller ships seemed to drain away, diving at a location in the asteroid belt.

  “Triangulate that movement,” Husher said, but he feared he knew exactly where they were going. “Regan, how strong are the cannon’s own defenses?”

  “As strong as we could make them. But…likely not strong enough.”

  “Another shot!” Winterton said as the tactical d
isplay flashed, and a plasma bolt ripped open one side of the Brood swarm, expanding as it drove deeper into the heart of the cloud and leaving nothing but open space behind it.

  Again, the red dots poured back in to fill the space, and then another stream of them flowed toward the source of the strike.

  The cloud was less than half its original size. But from what Husher had seen, the Brood wouldn’t need even half of that again to wipe them all out, Scions and humans included. “Regan, tell me your cannons can fire again soon.”

  “It will take a few moments before they—”

  A third time, an energy spike caused the telemetry on the tactical display to waver.

  “Did you fire again?” Husher asked. “I thought you said it would take…” His voice trailed off.

  Something inside the asteroid belt had ruptured catastrophically, sending an expanding fireball outward, which consumed the surrounding asteroids.

  Typically, asteroids didn’t explode like that—not unless they weren’t asteroids at all, but a weapon attached to an enormous energy source. Like an ancient plasma cannon bigger than a supercarrier, for example.

  A moment later, another explosion jostled the image on the tactical display. Husher didn’t particularly enjoy the blasts that had been continuously roaring across his main viewscreen.

  A fireball bloomed in a second section of the belt, obliterating more asteroids until the breathless void finally snuffed out the conflagration.

  “We’ve lost both cannons on the side of the belt closest to the enemy swarm,” Regan said. Even through his voice synthesizer, Husher could sense his shock.

  Before the human captains had left the mobile command, the Scion had told them he didn’t think the ancient cannons could actually stop a full-on Brood assault, no matter what the rest of his people believed.

  But saying it and seeing it happen were two different things.

  The Brood hadn’t tried to outsmart the plasma cannons. As far as Husher could see, they’d purposefully appeared right in the line of fire, allowing themselves to be ripped to shreds as they methodically overwhelmed each cannon’s defenses.