Trapped

by Scott Bartlett

  “Driscoll!” Jake yelled over the team-wide. “Get clear, now!”

  Frog didn’t need any more prompting. He disengaged his boot magnets and flipped off, thrusting clear of the doomed craft.

  Jake watched in horror as the shuttle careened toward the asteroid’s rocky surface. Two figures tumbled out of the ruined back half, their bodies charred and twisted.

  With that, the shuttle collided with the asteroid, straight into a group of Wayfarers—small solace for the loss of an entire marine platoon. The transport exploded, the resulting conflagration quickly tamed by airless space. But the impact had kicked up plenty of dust and debris. Jake couldn’t see a thing.

  “Moonboy. Frog. Do you copy?” Jake called out.

  “I’m here,” Driscoll said. “Half my thrusters are dead, but I’m here.”

  “Moonboy?”

  “I’m here too. But I’m all out of this fight. I got a good acid wash and my electronics are fried.”

  “Can you get back to Relentless?” Jake asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “You guys are no good to us dead. Take Frog and get back home while you can.”

  “What about—”

  “We’ll be fine,” Jake said, trying to exude confidence he didn’t feel. The team had performed well, but they’d still lost two mechs and one of the shuttles.

  “Did the other transports make it down?”

  “Ours is,” Tucker said. “Right over some damn hole in the ground.”

  “Ours is good, too,” Ash said. She was far below Jake and Maura. They were thrusting down toward her.

  “We have one job, now,” Jake said. “Make sure those jarheads can do their thing inside the asteroid, without more aliens coming down on their heads.”

  “I’m seeing a second opening into the asteroid’s interior,” Ash said. “Not sure if it connects with where the hive mind is or not, but if the marines are going down there, we’d better defend it.”

  “Agreed,” Jake said. “Prelims said there were two entrances, including the one they created at the bottom of their crater. Bulldog, since you’re down there already, your team will secure that main entrance. Steam, you hang out at that secondary one. We’re coming to you.”

  “They’re already hitting our shuttle hard!” Tucker sounded out of breath.

  “We got plenty inbound, too,” Ash said.

  Jake and Maura joined her twenty seconds later, just as the first of the Wayfarers closed in on the entrance she was protecting.

  Ash fired into them with both autocannons, focus firing on one alien at a time, ripping it apart before shifting to a fresh target. Maura followed her lead.

  Jake joined in with his single good arm, feeling far less useful.

  The three mechs spread out, so that they were surrounding the hole they were protecting. How it had gotten there, Jake didn’t know, but he assumed the aliens had opened it. They likely would have needed to get a lot of aliens into the asteroid’s interior, quickly, so they could make sure there was enough room down there for their hive mind.

  None of that really mattered. Not to him, anyway. His team’s job was to protect the entrances. The marines were counting on them to do that. Scratch that, every human on this mission is counting on us, whether they know it or not.

  So he would see it done. No matter the cost.

  He began to notice a pattern to the incoming creatures’ movements. “They’re bunching up.”

  “Trying to block our fire,” Ash said. “We can only hit the outside ones. They’re trying to get the ones they’re protecting through.”

  He nodded. “And it’s going to work, if we don’t change tactics.” There were too many aliens swarming toward them. “Rockets. Let’s synchronize our firing.”

  “Ready,” Ash and Maura shouted in tandem.

  “Hit it!” Rockets streamed from his shoulder-mounted launchers. As his missiles streamed toward the enemy, they were joined by Ash’s and Maura’s.

  Together, the deadly wave of rockets pulverized the incoming rush of Wayfarers, ripping them to shreds.

  And yet, more charged in to take their place, seemingly unfazed by the death of their comrades.

  Maura extended both bayonets and charged toward the enemy. “Let’s clean up those stragglers.”

  “Go with her, Steam,” Jake said.

  He stayed at the entrance, as the last line of defense. He took a moment to scan the space above the asteroid. For now, the Pythons were keeping the Pseudopods off them. But more were joining the engagement, much more, and Jake knew it was only a matter of time before they delivered still more Wayfarers to the asteroid’s surface. This time, there was little hope of them missing and sending their cargo hurtling uselessly into space.

  He glanced into the distance, hoping to see if there was action over the main hole Tucker and his team were covering, but he couldn’t see anything. A rise in the asteroid’s terrain blocked his view.

  Still, he did see movement, just beyond the big rock’s horizon. Alien limbs flashed into view, then disappeared.

  What the hell are they doing over there?

  Movement from above caught his eye, and he saw a pair of Pseudopods who’d broken through the Python formations, each releasing their deadly cargo onto the asteroid’s surface.

  “Jake!” Maura cried.

  “On it.” He turned his only remaining autocannon up to fire. He shredded one of them, but the other made it to the surface, its impact sending a puff of dust spaceward. Instead of rushing to engage Maura, who was nearby, it rushed toward the horizon where Jake had seen alien limbs flashing beyond the shallow hill. The newcomer disappeared beyond it before Jake could position his autocannon to shoot it.

  “There’s something going on over there,” he said. “I’m going to check it out. Moe, can you break off to cover the entrance?”

  “I’ll be there in ten seconds.”

  Jake decided he’d have eyes-on for longer than that, so he took off at a fast clip, his mech’s legs smashing against the rock of the asteroid, kicking up a small dust storm behind him. He engaged the thrusters in his legs, taking advantage of the gravity to take larger and larger steps, until he was essentially skimming across the surface.

  As he ran up the hill, the scene in front of him emerged with horrifying clarity.

  The Wayfarers were treating the side of the asteroid like the hull of the Relentless. They were ripping open its surface with their claws, burrowing down.

  With that, he realized the pointlessness in trying to cover the two openings already on the asteroid’s surface. The Brood creatures were simply making new entrances.

  A dozen Wayfarers snapped their heads up as he approached. In unison, they broke away from their work and sprinted toward him as one.

  Chapter 53

  Python Air Group

  Asteroid field in Scion space

  Callum was pulling off the best flying of his life, but it wasn’t enough. All around him, his squadrons were coming apart.

  “Move it, Rooster,” he screamed as his wingman roared past, three Pseudopods flickering through space after him.

  Callum squeezed off a stream of kinetic impactors, hitting the two trailing bogeys and splitting them open. He flipped to his Sidewinder and released the missile, not waiting for the positive lock from his targeting computer, knowing that the distance was too short to trust it anyway. It would either find the lock in flight or not.

  The missile flew right past the Pseudopod, missing it by mere inches. It got the creature’s attention, at least, and Rooster was able to turn wide, gaining some distance.

  Callum’s Python screamed past the creature, and he flipped around to fire his railguns from behind it. But it was too quick for that. The bastard outmaneuvered him, clearly preparing to unleash its acid bile.

  It never came. Instead, the creature exploded, torn apart by a perfectly-placed shot from his wingman.

  “Nice one, Rooster. That thing had me dead to rights.”

&nbs
p; “That wasn’t me.”

  Callum searched his HUD, wondering where the phantom shot had come from. It could have been from any direction, with the battle raging all around them.

  He wasn’t sure he cared. The numbers were dwindling on both sides, but Callum had a finite number of fighters, and the enemy seemed to have an endless supply. It was only a matter of time before they wore his air group down through simple attrition.

  “You’re welcome, Major,” said a Winger voice he didn’t recognize.

  “Who is this?”

  The Python that had contacted him was already roaring away at a dangerous rate of speed, bordering on out-of-control. In the circumstances of the fight, it made the ship almost impossible to target, but it also made it inevitable that it would smash into something—friend or foe—in the chaotic engagement.

  But somehow the pilot managed to weave in and out of dogfights, sending pinpoint slugs into Pseudopods from impossible angles in rapid succession.

  “Who the hell is that?” Callum said.

  “That’s the Winger the captain brought. Fesky. Fought in the Third Galactic War with him.”

  “I thought she was grounded.” Not that Callum was complaining. Any pilot who could do what she was doing was sorely needed in this fight.

  “We’re getting crushed,” Rooster said. “I haven’t heard from Thunder or Eightball. Z-man lost his thrusters and had to bail. I think he got picked up, but I’m not sure.”

  “Let’s get back in there.” Just now, Callum wasn’t in the mood to hear his wingman rattle off the dead and missing. He doubted it would do much for his battle calm.

  “Yes, Major,” said Rooster, and the pair of them roared toward the O’Kane, where the fighting was thickest.

  Callum watched a series of fires roaring on the cruiser’s side. He opened the all-com channel. “We need to concentrate support on the starboard bow of the O’Kane. All squads, as you have the opportunity, make your way to support that side.”

  “Major!” shouted Rooster.

  Callum looked up at his wingman’s fighter, then said, “What?”

  “Look at the O’Kane’s hull. Port side, aft section.”

  Callum saw what Rooster was talking about. He opened a channel to the cruiser. “Be advised, you have multiple enemy contacts that have burrowed into your hull on the aft section, just ahead of your port-side secondary weapons array.”

  “We know,” came a weary reply. “We have combat teams there now.”

  “The enemies I’m seeing are unimpeded at the moment.”

  “We already had aliens coming in through other parts of the hull. We’re fighting them as we can get to them.”

  “Look out!” shouted Rooster, and Callum had to swing hard around as a Pseudopod appeared out of nowhere, screaming up at him. It smashed against the side of his fighter, then bounced away. Rooster hit it with a Sidewinder as it went spinning into space.

  Red lights came to life on Callum’s HUD. He’d lost one of his railguns, and a thruster. He was still moving, but he was going to be severely limited going forward.

  Rooster came around to take a look. “Good news, bad news,” he said. “Good news, I don’t see any of that acid shit. Bad news, you’re going to be at quarter power at best. I doubt—”

  “Incoming,” snapped Callum. Two Pseudopods were speeding toward them from above the O’Kane, and two more from below. They were in serious trouble, now. “Don’t hang around, Rooster, you need to move.”

  Almost before he’d finished speaking, two of the four enemies disappeared, vaporized. Callum watched Fesky’s fighter roar past where they’d been.

  That’s impossible. I just saw her flying like a maniac on the far side of the battle. How could she have even made it back here?

  But it was Fesky, flying at speeds that Callum wouldn’t have attempted if there was nothing at all around him, let alone deadly creatures trying to kill them all.

  “Gotcha,” shouted Rooster as he neutralized one of the other two with kinetic impactors. But one got past him, then turned to square up with him directly.

  “Look out for his friend,” Callum said, but there was little he could do, and nothing that Fesky could do. For all her fine flying, she was still at the mercy of physics. Because of her enormous speed, there was no way for her to turn around and help with the second Pseudopod. She was simply moving too fast to slingshot around in any amount of time.

  Callum tried to turn his fighter, but his controls were almost useless. It was like driving a box full of concrete. It just didn't budge.

  An asteroid floated lazily into his view. Without thinking, he fired his last missile.

  The point-blank shot tore a huge gouge in the side of the asteroid.

  His HUD again lit up with warnings as his hull was peppered with the rocky debris. There were two hull breaches, and something actually penetrated the cockpit, leaving a pin-sized hole less than a foot from his head. The blast sent his fighter spinning, the single operating thruster struggling to bring the Python under control.

  If his ship hadn’t been crippled before, it was now. The hull was pockmarked and breached. The engines were useless. He’d fired off his last missile, and he had almost no kinetic impactors left—assuming they would even fire.

  “Whoa,” snapped Rooster. “You peppered the shit out of me with that little move, but you also killed that thin-skinned bastard.” He was now flying right next to Callum. “That ship ain’t gonna get you home, you know.”

  Fesky flew up right next to Rooster, her Python almost kissing his as she executed a perfect stop. “We’re not making the progress we need to make, Major.”

  “I don’t disagree. Suggestions?”

  She seemed agitated. “If we could regroup closer to the Relentless, we might have a chance to confuse those slimy things and buy ourselves some time.”

  “And abandon the O’Kane?” As he said it, Callum detected a massive energy spike. “What the hell—”

  A bright light flashed, and for a moment it seemed like the entire universe was frozen, like a strobe light had flashed, stopping time.

  A moment later, the light was gone. And so was the O’Kane.

  Chapter 54

  Relentless Marine Company

  Asteroid surface in Scion space

  “Major, a little help?”

  Gamble glanced at the top-left corner of his HUD, where he could see Tammery’s icon, his suit broadcasting the group of four Wayfarers pursuing him across the asteroid’s surface.

  He peered in the direction the HUD indicated, but couldn’t see a thing. The rocky terrain was screwing with line-of-sight in a big way.

  “Where the—”

  Ah. At that moment, Tammery scrambled out from behind a hillock, four ugly aliens hot on his heels. All five of them bounded across the rock in great, arcing strides, taking ages to return to the surface. It would have been comical, if not for the fact Tammery would be one dead private the second those claws got a hold of him.

  “I got ya.” Gamble leaned past the fold-out barrier he’d been crouching behind, hoisting a rocket launcher onto his shoulder as he did. In the low gravity, it was almost feather-light.

  He tracked the aliens’ movements for several long seconds…and fired, leading them by a few meters. The launcher jolted backward just as hard as it always did—the low gravity didn’t do anything for kickback—and the rocket streamed low over the asteroid’s surface.

  His aim was good. The rocket blew apart the lead alien, and took the second one’s legs out from under it. Unless it planned to crawl after Tammery, it was probably out of the fight.

  But the other two aliens were still giving chase, hale and healthy. With a quick glance behind him, Gamble confirmed his squad was engaged there, meaning he should be safe to leave the barrier’s protection to help the private.

  He nestled the rocket launcher against the combat shuttle’s hull and scooped up his R-57 from where it dangled near his hip.

  “Turn around
, Tammery. We got these buggers.”

  The rocket had made the last two pursuers flinch back, slowing them. That had let Tammery get a good lead on them. With his next bound, the private turned in midair and brought his own assault rifle around, opening up on the aliens. Gamble did the same, charging at them from their seven o’clock. The Wayfarers were a nightmare in up-close combat, but concentrated gunfire at range was a different story. They barely made it halfway to the Winger before collapsing into twitching piles on the asteroid’s surface.

  Tammery sagged. “Thanks, boss.”

  “Stay frosty, Private. This is far from over.”

  “You saw the Featherlight go down, sir? That was a quarter of the Relentless’ marine company…”

  “And if we don’t keep our heads in the fight, they’re gonna piss down on us from heaven.” It pained Gamble to speak so callously about the loss of their brothers, but he knew he was right. He switched to a company-wide channel. “All marines, make for the beacon I’m marking on your HUDs now. We’ll regroup on the crater’s lip and then head down. Don’t forget the charges.”

  The three remaining combat shuttles used their hull-mounted turrets to lay down covering fire, allowing most of the marines to muster at the crater. Some still remained in defensive positions behind the fold-out barriers, but with the help of half of Oneiri Team, they’d managed to secure a perimeter that circled the crater.

  For now, anyway. “We need to get moving. Remember, we have no idea what we’re going to find down there. But we expect serious resistance. So look alive.”

  “Or look dead!” the marines screamed back in unison.

  “Let’s move!”

  Gamble led the first squad to the jagged hole in the crater’s center and peered inside. “Night vision, everyone.” He switched his on, which revealed a slope at the hole’s bottom, just a few meters down. The height wasn’t a problem, especially not in this gravity.

  Except….

  He narrowed his eyes. That slope looks natural.

  Whether by accident or design, the Brood must have targeted an asteroid with a naturally occurring tunnel system. Just how maze-like is it going to get down there? His hope for a straight shot to the hive mind was evaporating.