The Airship: A Futuristic Dungeon Core (The Laboratory Book 2)

by Skyler Grant

  I wasn’t trying to micromanage my human drones. They came prepared with their own abilities, although I wasn't entirely sure Diana would come out from cover without a push when the shooting started. The various factions worked together well, but I suppose they were accustomed to that. We were the new part of the equation.

  When the enemies came out of the jungle they were overwhelming. The sky darkened with swarms of leather-winged flying serpents. Charging below them were massive, armored behemoths with tiny eyes and five huge horns.

  The Wolves opened fire, but the intense barrage only slowed the advance.

  Thrusters along the midpoint of the airship angled and blasts of withering fire incinerated large swaths of the enemy and set the jungle alight.

  It still wasn't enough. One of the behemoths reached an energy shield and with a butt of its head caused the barrier to ripple and fade.

  The Rats were close to getting their job done. I estimated perhaps another two minutes until they had the main engines operational, but that wasn't going to be enough.

  "Pull back," I told Anna.

  Anna squeezed off a shot and sent a serpent tumbling from the sky, before issuing the orders into her comm and our defenders fell back into the ship. The Bats set the shields to overload before withdrawing, rippling explosions of energy blasting back the swarms.

  The Wolves lined the edges of the ramp, defending while the others boarded. It took us only thirty seconds to get inside, yet it didn't change the math elsewhere.

  "I need a burn," I called to Doctor Batavius through her comm.

  "How long do you need?" she asked.

  "Upwards of ninety seconds airtime," I said.

  We didn't have to be flying all that time—I didn't expect we would be. Besides, we'd fall a lot further the higher we went up.

  The thrusters angled downward and on pillars of fire we were raised into the sky.

  "I can't give you ninety," Batavius said.

  I could already tell that she was right. We were rapidly losing system function.

  "What if I bring Hot Stuff into the burn chamber?" I asked.

  "You'll increase intensity, but we'll lose integrity fast," Batavius said. I could see her trying to do the math in her head. I was doing the same. I thought we'd be okay, but I wanted that second opinion.

  "We'll trash the system, but we don't need it," Batavius said.

  I teleported Hot Stuff into the main thruster ignition chamber.

  I probably should have asked first, but really I just needed her to burn. Surrounded by fuel, that’s just what she did. The thrusters flared with greater intensity before the components began to melt under the increased temperature and they sputtered out.

  I teleported Hot Stuff back out. She still needed to breathe after all.

  Our upwards momentum quickly died out and we began to glide down towards the jungle.

  The Rats got the engines back online five seconds earlier than anticipated—it was good that they did.

  We were skimming far too close to the tree tops. Alive, but not safe, the story of our lives.

  9

  The airship’s ramp was still open, but it wasn't the worst thing happening. While it created some air-drag, the holes throughout the hull were having even more of an impact. The ship was shaking violently and the occasional screech of tearing metal punctuated the roar of the wind.

  We'd barely been in the air for two minutes and hull integrity had already ticked down a point to twenty percent.

  We couldn't stay airborne like this. We also couldn't go back down into the jungle.

  I opened a ship-wide comm and advised them of the situation.

  Baron Wolfson said, "You've gained enough distance to give us some time. Land the ship. I and my Wolves can buy you more." The old Wolf’s voice was rough, without accelerated healing his nose was still a ruin.

  "We can start hull repairs at once," squeaked a Rat I didn't know. I expected it was their leader.

  "Or we can divert all our focus to shield repair. We block the wind, we can repair the hull at our leisure," Doctor Batavius said.

  "What about the dimensional drive?" Anna asked.

  "Offline and a very difficult fix," Batavius said.

  I'd seen the dimensional drive of these ships in action. They were what allowed these vessels to quickly travel vast distances between the shattered parts of the world. If we'd been able to engage ours, we might have simply left this jungle behind.

  Of the remaining possibilities the shields seemed the best option. Otherwise, repairing a hull being torn apart seemed equivalent to bailing water back into a sinking ship.

  "If you hadn't spent so much time uselessly in fighting, we would have the hull already repaired. Focus our efforts on shield repair. If the hull gets down to five percent I'm forcing a landing," I said.

  Rats, Bats, Anna and Mechanites scrambled. The shielding equipment was on Engineering deck. With their combined effort they brought considerable expertise, but the Mist bombing had done considerable damage to those systems.

  On the Espionage deck near the ramp the Wolves were reloading and getting themselves into shape should we have to land again. It was then the serpents began to hit us, flying through the holes in the hull and setting upon the repair crews with beak and talon.

  "Wolves to deck four to repel fliers," Anna called, opening fire with her pistol, shifting from her own repair efforts to fight them off.

  The sky was dark in the distance. So far only a few dozen of the winged snakes had made it aboard, but there were hundreds on the way.

  The thrusters were still offline. Interfacing them with Hot Stuff earlier really had burned them out, otherwise I could try to use them for defense.

  The shields might be up in time, but I couldn't rely on that. Relatively speaking the bottom of the airship was in the best shape. The Mist hadn't bombed their own section and did some repairs during the time we were crashed.

  I told Batavius, "I'm going to need just a second of the thrusters. Although I'm certain all measure of thrusting is something you are intimately unfamiliar with."

  "You are running low on insults. Sexuality? Truly? It's probably a side-effect of the mental instability caused by your core. So is thinking that I can eke any more life out of a system you destroyed," Batavius said.

  "I understand the minds of older women often dwell on such things. Use one of the Powered. I'm sure one of them must be good for something," I said.

  "Not every problem is solved by grinding up a human being or otherwise teleporting them into danger."

  I had a pretty good record with just such solutions. But she was right, I wasn't seeing it in this case either.

  "At the risk of your obsessive mind thinking about sex again, what about explosives? The Mist had a supply, as do the Wolves," I said.

  "Maybe," Batavius said after a pause. "If we can direct the force. I may have shielding equipment to help. Where do you want the thrust?"

  I gave her the location and she ran off taking her assistant with her.

  I took the opportunity to steer the ship towards the approaching fliers. Even if we pulled this off it was going to damage the hull some more, but I didn't see a way around that.

  A few minutes later and the hull was down to nine percent and the makeshift thrusters were ready. I set a collision course with the fliers and gave the all-clear signal to Doctor Batavius. She had cordoned off an area of deck five with energy shielding, using it to direct a blast from several explosive packs. She pressed the detonation button.

  The charge bucked the ship and knocked us into a roll as we plowed into the fliers.

  Instead of the ship full of breaches we'd presented moments before, now they were faced with our undamaged bottom hull. There were a series of repeated thuds that were almost like hail upon the surface of the ship. One flier after another exploded against our keel—then we were through the swarm to the other side.

  The Wolves opened fire from breaches throughout the ship,
gunning down remainders of the swarm. We hadn't eliminated the threat, but we'd cleared enough that the Wolves stood a chance. The hull was down to six percent and the screeching of metal and violent tremors was becoming more pronounced.

  I was hesitant to land us again even at this point for fear it might finally wreck the hull completely, but staying airborne would do the same with even less chance of survival for everyone. We were on the way down when I finally got the message.

  Shielding System Restored

  System Status: 15%

  Power Reserve: 44%

  It wasn't much, but I'd take it. I signaled to the crew I was about to engage the shields and triggered them. A shimmering field of green energy enveloped the ship and in an instant the roar of wind and the violent shaking stopped.

  "Good work, people," Anna said, walking amongst the crew on the Engineering deck. It looked like in addition to her battle wounds she'd picked up a few electrical burns from helping with the system repair. It had made an impression, the newly recruited crew all seemed to be treating her with a great deal of respect.

  I told Anna, "We're airborne for now, but there isn't a system on this ship in good condition. It is as beat up and ragged as you."

  "Can we maintain flight?" Anna asked.

  I'd been trying to figure that out. This was as far as my planning had gone, lifting off and carrying out repairs. Beyond that, there was a limit to what we could do. We'd gotten the engines working to some extent, but while the system was active, everything else that needed to be done simply wasn't possible.

  "For now. It’s like you and eating healthy—long-term, there will be failure," I said.

  "What about charts of the area?"

  That was a good idea. Now that I had access to all the ship’s systems I could pull up data files. They weren't of much help. Much of the documentation was on paper and what was electronic only showed large sections of the Rim blocked out with "Hazardous" markers. We were in one of those areas.

  Those maps came from somewhere though, and we had sensors on board to scan the surroundings. I didn't see anything but jungle and mountains close, but farther out there were other airships in some sort of large concentration I thought must be a kind of port.

  "Negative,” I told Anna. “The Scholars must not have been here to ever map it. I do have what I believe to be some kind of port two days out. We could make it. While I am sure you won't, might the rest of us find friends there?"

  "It wouldn't be the Righteous, not out this far. We aren't the only factions although we're two of the largest. Most of them aren't very friendly, but I don't see where we have a choice," Anna said.

  I agreed with her—rarely a good sign. We couldn't stay airborne indefinitely and setting down in the jungle would invite another attack. At least there was some chance of finding allies elsewhere.

  "Setting course. You can congratulate the crew for not completely destroying this vessel and get some sleep," I said.

  Anna shook her head. "The crew needs to get used to me. Find the head of the Rats and tell him to meet me in the throne room. Once everyone has kissed my ring, then I'll get some sleep."

  10

  "Your glorious magnificence is a splendorous delight. Your striking beauty is outshone only by your renowned mercy and non-murderous intentions," said Chief Ratimus.

  The meeting with the Rat’s leader had been going on for awhile. Anna had intended a quick chat, but instead she got a prolonged encounter where the problem wasn’t getting the Rats to acknowledge her authority—but rather getting them to stop doing so.

  "You may go, Chief," Anna said, pushing herself back in her throne. The bone was stained with blood. It had been a rough day and while Anna's accelerated healing sealed wounds quickly, her clothing was still soaked.

  "Although it would pain me to depart such a warm and comforting presence, where your merest gaze is like the sunlight of a summer day, it is a testament indeed that you give your loyal and dedicated servants leave to move as they will," Chief Ratimus said.

  Anna rubbed her eyes between thumb and forefinger.

  I said, "While I am certain your Queen has the poor judgment to find your rambling endearing and charming, let me assure you that I have little use for rodents who aren't pulling their own pudgy weight—except as science experiments."

  Chief Ratimus squeaked and after a good five minutes of genuflecting managed to back out of the throne room and scamper back to Engineering.

  "Sometimes your complete lack of any social graces is a virtue," Anna said, with a weary sigh.

  "If only we could find a way to turn your weak points into strengths. We'd be the most fearsome force the world has ever seen," I said.

  "A set of working cannons would help a lot with that. We're flying towards a bunch of ships without us having any means of self-defense."

  "While I find myself boggled it is even possible, you may be underestimating yourself and this vessel," I said.

  Anna smiled at that and sat forward. "Perhaps. Let’s break it down then. What we have working against us is that our ship is in tatters and no matter how much you scare the Rats, it’s going to be that way until we can get some time in a dock."

  We could perhaps get by without a maintenance dock. Given enough time and enough Biomatter I could convert the ship’s hull into an organic matrix and most of the systems as well. However, it would be time-consuming, and so resource-intensive even grinding up Ophelia again wouldn't make it feasible.

  "We also have the ship’s previous core still hunting us and it has an army," I said.

  "A negative point. On the positive side, we have a skilled crew for most of the ship’s functions. Everything except for Espionage," Anna said.

  "The Mists having been entirely too good at that. We'll need to replace them," I said.

  Anna let out a frustrated sigh. "That means finding someone we can trust. I'm thinking Mechos and the Mechanites."

  They made more sense as engineers, but we already had engineers. At least Mechos with his abilities could build stealth equipment and manufacture spy drones.

  "Part of that job is sabotage, and Mechos and his people have proved worthless in fights. Hot Stuff is our strongest single combatant, but she is as stealthy as she is celibate," I said.

  "Ophelia," Anna said.

  "Currently in quarantine, which means she is being useless as always, except for those occasions of being draped over someone injured," I said.

  "Her power isn't something flashy that stands out—that’s good for Espionage. But it will keep her and her lieutenants alive—when she has some—and the Mechanites can see them equipped with suitable gear," Anna said.

  Anna wanted a group of spies with accelerated healing and high-tech equipment. It was a workable idea.

  "I've no objection. Perhaps she will manage to whine less with a real job," I said.

  "Do we have any trade goods?" Anna asked.

  "I can provide some foodstuffs out of the growth vats. More yet, if I upgrade them, and even with your appetite we’d run a surplus. We have Scholar charts and intelligence, although most of it is on paper," I said. A tremendously inefficient medium, I truly was glad I had not tried to convert myself into something partly magical where such things seemed commonplace.

  "The charts are too valuable to trade," Anna said with a frown. "Can you get any research value outside of the rest?"

  It was a good question. We'd been so focused on survival I hadn't had the opportunity to try yet.

  "I'll find out," I said.

  Anna drummed her fingers on the throne. "Do that. We'll need a cover story too. Identifying ourselves as the former flagship of Lady Sylax can only cause problems."

  "Whatever it is, you are going to have to explain the state of the ship," I said.

  "It depends on who and what we find. If that’s a military installation, we don't want to claim to be mutineers, but that story might work if they’re pirates. If they're Scholars or Righteous, we're fucked from the star
t," Anna said.

  "Are you going to identify yourself as a queen? You hardly look the part," I asked.

  "I'm seated on a throne stained crimson. I couldn't look the part any more if I tried. My title isn't negotiable. Add a name to the hull, we're calling ourselves the Powerhungry," Anna said.

  I'd have appreciated being asked for my opinion first, but I didn't object. Whatever Anna's desires, we were first and foremost a research vessel. I was dedicated to SCIENCE. That said, knowledge was power. The name fit.

  "Get some sleep before you stain your throne in drool," I said.

  Anna gave my drone a long look, but nodded after a moment and set off for her cabin.

  Two days wasn't much time. I could focus the crew on doing what urgent repairs the ship needed, but in the time-frame they just couldn't do much. Giving us the appearance of being in better shape was another matter.

  The massive rents in the hull were patched over with thin strips held in place with energy shielding provided by the Research deck. The shipboard cannons were polished so no trace of scorch marks remained, the damaged components hidden with fakes, and the main coils repaired just enough to hold a charge so it could at least appear we were charging our weaponry.

  The Powerhungry was becoming a lie. The talents of the Research deck were then devoted into developing us a set of sensor blockers. The result wasn't satisfactory, they'd burn through power and possibly fry their own circuitry entirely too quickly. A failure at the wrong moment could reveal our true weakness, but at least for a time we could present an illusion of strength.

  There were some things I couldn't fix no matter how much I wished it. We didn't move quickly, we weren't maneuverable, and our engines vibrated in a way that clearly showed we were in some distress. That damage I didn't attempt to hide, there was no point, and it explained our desire for a maintenance dock.

  If we presented the image that I hoped, then we looked like a large airship with powerful weaponry well-capable of defending itself, but with some sort of engine trouble. The sort of conditions that would incline the greedy to simply try to overcharge us for repair supplies—not destroy us and take us for spare parts.