God Ship (Obsidiar Fleet Book 3)

by Anthony James

  McKinney left her to mull over the words while he descended to the bottom. He looked out carefully into the passageway and was relieved to see it was clear. He was convinced there was more than one way from the Vraxar troop storage room to this area of the ship – it was absurd to think otherwise. Unfortunately, it was down to pure guesswork trying to estimate how long it would take the freed soldiers to catch up to the fleeing squad. There were other details about which he was more certain – the main passage from the entry point was four thousand metres long and it was approximately eight hundred metres until they reached that passage. It was a long, long way to run when they were burdened with the unconscious Vraxar. Even if they made it to the entry point, it wasn’t an easy sprint to the shuttle and it would be near-impossible if there were thousands of alien soldiers at their heels.

  It’s going to be one hell of an escape if we can make it, he thought grimly.

  The rest of the squad reached the end of the steps and McKinney once again took point, with Ricky Vega beside him and Dex Webb behind. The corridor was long and Webb’s plasma tube would certainly come in handy against a packed group of Vraxar.

  “They’re going to find us long before we get away,” said Vega.

  “Yes.”

  “If they manage to get tooled up, we’re screwed.”

  “Only if we stick around and let them take pot shots at us.”

  “Ever the optimist, Lieutenant.”

  “Someone has to be.”

  McKinney remembered this area of the Neutraliser – there were rooms joined by long corridors with many branches. The soldiers carrying the Vraxar had got into a routine and they were able to keep up with the increased pace, rotating in a new man or woman when someone became too tired to continue with the lifting. Even Garcia’s grumbling died off and the open channel was mostly quiet.

  “That door wasn’t open when we came this way the first time,” said Vega.

  “I didn’t see it,” said McKinney, realising he was keeping his gaze locked in front and missing other important details.

  “I didn’t get a good look through, Lieutenant. I think it led to another passage like this one.”

  It was enough of a warning to McKinney and he made sure to look out for any changes since their initial march along here. His earlier words waking up spun around in his head, tormenting him with the endless unknowns such a thing entailed. The Neutraliser had crashed and suffered apparently terminal damage, yet there was enough of it working to preserve the lives of thousands of those onboard. Now here it was, returning to a partially operational state, with McKinney and his squad stuck deep inside. Worst of all was his suspicion that his actions or those of his men had somehow begun the process of the warship’s awakening.

  “Did Captain Blake express any doubt about this Neutraliser going critical?”

  “No, sir, he did not. I spoke to Lieutenant Pointer and she told me we needed to get the hell off this ship as quickly as possible, else it was going to blow.”

  McKinney wanted to keep on at Evans, to ask if he’d overlooked a detail or a word which might give a clue as to exactly what the crew on the Abyss thought was going to happen. There was no need – Evans was repeating what he’d been told and nothing more.

  A few seconds later, two events happened in very close proximity, neither of which was in any way welcome.

  The first event was the appearance of a large Vraxar of a type McKinney hadn’t seen before. It walked calmly into sight where the corridor entered an open space up ahead. With a dreamlike feeling of being in slow-motion, McKinney treated it to a short burst from his plasma repeater. Even a slight tap on the weapon’s activation switch was enough to send a few dozen white-hot metal slugs spewing from the barrel. The bullets punched into the alien, ripping off one arm and half of its shoulder, as well as shattering its skull in many places.

  It fell without a sound, and in ten long strides McKinney was there. He hurdled its body and looked for more of the enemy. This room was a few metres across and with two additional exits leading away. It was empty, leaving McKinney mystified as to how the alien had got here ahead of them.

  “Clear!”

  The worrying conclusion from this briefest of engagements was that the Neutraliser’s life support was beginning to revive pockets of Vraxar in several different locations in the spaceship and this specimen had simply wandered into his line of fire.

  The second event was considerably more worrying than the first. The rest of the squad were halfway across the room with the dead Vraxar, when they both heard and felt a sound. It began as a groaning shriek of tortured metal which came through the walls, the ceiling and the floor. The sound was replaced by a metallic creaking, as if the hull of the spaceship was being subjected to immense pressure or stress. It faded, leaving a rough, lumpy vibration behind.

  McKinney held his breath to see if silence would return. It did not and the vibration continued.

  Several of the soldiers asked the exact same question at the exact same moment. “What’s the hell is going on?”

  “That’s their engines,” McKinney said. “They’ve started up their gravity engines.”

  This new development threw everything out of the window. There was no chance of survival if the Neutraliser managed to take off with them still onboard. That wasn’t the worst part – there was absolutely no way the crew on the ES Abyss would permit the Neutraliser to escape from Vanistar and there was only one way they could prevent it happening.

  Chapter Ten

  There was intense consternation and anger on the bridge of the ES Abyss.

  “Can someone tell me exactly what is happening?” demanded Captain Charlie Blake.

  “They’ve got their engines online, sir,” said Quinn. “I have no idea how they managed it.”

  “I thought they were all meant to be dead? How did they manage that when they were dead?”

  “It could be they have a few active processing cores and their computers managed to tap into a source of power.”

  “Do they have weapons? Can they get power into those massive particle beams they have running along the top of their central section?”

  “Those remain powered down,” said Lieutenant Hawkins. “I’d guess their weapons control systems are still offline.”

  Blake stalked the length of the bridge. “Our guesswork hasn’t proved too reliable up until now, has it?” He expected no answer and Hawkins didn’t provide one. Blake continued. “What about that nullification sphere? Is it going to explode or did we get that one wrong as well?”

  “It’s becoming progressively more unstable,” said Quinn. “The simulator is predicting sixty minutes from now as being the most likely time for its self-destruction.”

  “Is that a definite?”

  “It’ll definitely explode.”

  “What if they manage to contain it? What if they contain it, get power into their weapons and start taking pot shots at us?”

  “You don’t need us to tell you the answer to that one, sir,” said Hawkins.

  “We’d be forced to launch our weapons at them. With our soldiers still onboard.”

  “That’s the logical conclusion.”

  “I know it’s the logical damned conclusion!” Blake took several deep breaths and calmed himself. “We need to think of something and we need to do it fast.”

  “We’ve got everyone onboard apart from Lieutenant McKinney and Corporal Evans’ squads,” said Lieutenant Pointer. “They’ve been gone a long time, so they’ve got to be due back.”

  Pointer was trying to be helpful, though had managed to be anything but. They had no idea where the remaining soldiers were and no way to predict their return.

  “I hope Lieutenant McKinney has managed to find something more useful than this other…” He struggled to articulate the word he was looking for.

  “Crap?”

  “Yes, this other crap the rest of the soldiers brought back with them. They need to pull something good out of the h
at, else this will have been a high risk, ultra-low reward mission.”

  “There’s another thing, sir,” said Cruz tentatively.

  “What is it?”

  “At this altitude, it’s a long shuttle ride to get from the surface to the Abyss. If Lieutenant McKinney escapes, his shuttle will be in the air for fifteen or twenty minutes. That’s plenty of time.” She didn’t want to say the words.

  Blake nodded. “Yes, I know. They’ll be an easy target if the Neutraliser gets even a single particle beam working. And a long shuttle flight puts both our troops and the Abyss at risk if the enemy spaceship explodes.”

  “You could speak to Fleet Admiral Duggan, sir?” said Hawkins. “He has a lot of experience when it comes to combat situations.”

  It was tempting and Blake heard the insidious cajoling of an inner voice, telling him how comforting it would be to simply hand over the decision making for this difficult situation to another.

  “No!” he said, with more force than intended. “We can’t look for guidance every time there’s a difficult choice ahead. Imagine the burden we’d be shifting on to the Fleet Admiral if he decided the only course of action was for us to destroy the Neutraliser immediately. I joined the Space Corps to make my own destiny, not to have someone else pick it for me!” He seethed with a fury that was directed at whatever capricious twists of fate had placed him in this position.

  “What are we going to do?” asked Quinn.

  “We’re going towards Vanistar again. Closer this time – much closer. In fact, we’re going to sit right on top of that Neutraliser.”

  Lieutenant Hawkins lifted a finger as if in admonishment. Suddenly, the furrows in her forehead smoothed out and she lowered her hand.

  “Let’s do it,” she said.

  The ES Abyss’s engines had an infinitely greater output than that of the last shuttle remaining on Vanistar’s surface. Under maximum thrust and with guidance from the autopilot, its gravity drive only needed fifty seconds to bring the heavy cruiser to a position where it was less than two thousand metres above the Neutraliser. Blake gave the instruction for the energy shield to be kept active – not that Lieutenant Quinn needed telling – and also for two of the spaceship’s main processing cores to be kept ready for a lightspeed transit.

  “They’ve been churning through the computations for a while, sir,” said Quinn. “Core #7 is hotter than I’d like.”

  “Can’t you switch to another core to give that one a time to cool down?”

  “The manual recommends holding the core until burnout. If you don’t, there’s an increased chance the next core will experience a premature failure.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Fine, I’m sure someone’s done the research. Don’t make any changes.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  With the ES Abyss dangerously close to the damaged Neutraliser, Blake prepared himself for an unpleasant wait. He felt a bond with Lieutenant McKinney and wanted to give him every opportunity to escape from the enemy vessel. On the other hand, Blake was fully aware he’d be derelict in his duty if he permitted his spaceship to be destroyed in the process. Trying to second guess the possibilities was going to be like a tightrope walk in a strong, blustery crosswind. Only a fool would attempt it, but the feeling of accomplishment at the end might just be worthwhile.

  Blake smiled to himself. Who am I trying to kid? A brave man would destroy the Neutraliser and live with the consequences. He ignored the thought and stuck to his chosen course.

  McKinney and his squad reached the top of the long stairway without encountering more of the Vraxar. He’d been dreading this moment, with the unfortunate death of Hughes being so recent. The steps went steeply downwards, their end visible five hundred metres away. It was going to be a long, difficult descent.

  “Listen up!” he shouted. “We’ve lost one of our number already. If any of you dares to fall down these stairs, I promise you I will do whatever it takes to bring you back to life so that you are able to feel my fist breaking your nose. Is there anyone who doesn’t understand?”

  “What about this Vraxar, sir?” asked Mack. “What if he falls?”

  McKinney fought down a smile at the cheekiness of the question. “That alien bastard is the most important member of our team. If you drop him, you had better damn well make sure you throw yourselves after him. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Keep your weapons ready – I’ve got a feeling things are going to heat up before we get out of this place.”

  With a glance over his shoulder to check everything was clear behind, McKinney began his descent. The steps were absolutely not designed for humans and he felt the muscles in his legs burn beneath the thick, comforting veneer of battlefield adrenaline. In his wake, the soldiers followed in the peculiar sideways gait they’d adopted to try and make the steps easier. The four carrying the Vraxar didn’t have the luxury of being able to adjust their stride and they struggled to achieve a good pace. One of the men stumbled and nearly fell. McKinney took pity.

  “Garcia, it’s your lucky day. You’re relieved until I tell you otherwise.”

  With that, McKinney took Garcia’s place and carried his share of the unconscious Vraxar. It felt comparatively light at first. He wasn’t deceived and knew it would feel like a dead weight before he was halfway to the bottom.

  They didn’t quite reach the end without incident. With one hundred metres to go, McKinney heard something crack off the ceiling overhead. Roldan and McCoy had the rear and they opened up with their repeaters. In the confines of the stairwell, the sound was tremendous.

  “Report!”

  “Movement, sir. Three, maybe four.”

  The two men fired again.

  “More than four,” said Roldan. “Lots.”

  McKinney heard further shots from the Vraxar and their projectiles pinged away from the walls a few metres behind. Shooting down or upslope wasn’t quite so straightforward as firing flat and it seemed as if the Vraxar hadn’t been taught how to adjust their aim.

  “Caldwell, take over my position,” said McKinney.

  Bradley Caldwell was nearby and the two men swapped places smoothly. McKinney dropped to one knee and brought his gauss rifle to his shoulder. The repeaters were awe-inspiring weapons, but they lost their accuracy over longer distances and in truth, he felt the greatest affinity to the Space Corps rifle.

  With one eye looking along the barrel, he felt his breathing deepen. A Vraxar head appeared at the top of the steps and he put a bullet through it. Then came another and another. With utter calm, McKinney shot them dead. Roldan and McCoy kept firing their repeaters, and their projectiles created overlapping cones of blazing white light. They were likely hitting the enemy, just not with anything like the same finesse.

  “We should fall back, sir,” said Roldan. “We’re easy targets here.”

  “Agreed. Take it slowly, and don’t take your eyes off those Vraxar up there.”

  McKinney took his first step back and then another. The movement of his feet took him out of his firing trance and though he kept shooting, he lost the certainty of knowing whether he was scoring one-shot kills.

  “It’s not like the Vraxar to have an interest in their own survival,” said Roldan. “Why are they hanging back?”

  McKinney didn’t know. He’d been involved in engagements where the Vraxar threw themselves into the firing line without apparent care and then there were other times when they’d fought with tactics. Like humans, he thought. If they have no motivation, they’ll take no risks until an officer forces them.

  He didn’t want to turn in order to see how close the rest of the squad were to the end of the stairs. “How are you getting on with our prisoner?” he asked.

  “A few more steps,” grunted Caldwell.

  “We’ll need to hightail it along this corridor,” said Roldan. “Four klicks is a lot of running when we’re carrying a body.”

  The f
act wasn’t lost on McKinney. It wasn’t simply their reduced pace he was concerned about – the corridor was utterly straight, which would make the retreating soldiers an easy target once the Vraxar reached the bottom of the stairs. They’d be able to shoot freely from the cover of the stairwell.

  “There’s no way we’ll make it,” McKinney said. “We’ll be killed before we get halfway along.” He made a snap decision. “Garcia, Roldan, Webb, you’re staying with me. We’ll hold the stairwell to give the others time to escape.”

  It likely wasn’t what these three wanted to hear, but they gave no argument. Step by step, McKinney, Roldan and McCoy backed down the steps. The Vraxar above didn’t go away, nor did they make a concerted effort to kill the escaping soldiers. Whenever one of the aliens became too bold, McKinney hit it with a gauss slug. He was fully aware it was only a matter of time until the enemy rallied and made a concerted effort to flush the soldiers from the stairwell.

  The three of them reached the bottom without injury and hid to one side of the opening. Webb and Garcia were waiting at the bottom, whilst the other fifteen had covered a respectable distance along the corridor towards the entry point. There were few motivations as effective as the threat of death to put speed into tired legs.

  “McCoy, you go with them,” said McKinney. “We’ll hold the stairwell. Keep on your guard. With any luck the comms will remain active since we’ll have a line of sight.”

  McCoy didn’t ask to stay and sprinted after the others. The first transit of this corridor had been in the dark, now the lights were on and McKinney wasn’t sure if he was happy about the change.

  He filled Garcia, Roldan and Webb in with the details of his plan.

  “We kill any of the bastards that try to come down the stairs.”

  “That’s it?”

  “What were you expecting? Webb, we’ll be relying on your plasma tube to clear them out if they come down in force.”

  “Say the word, sir.”

  “Don’t wait for the word – fire it when you need to.”

  The Vraxar had already become emboldened at the sight of the empty stairwell. A group of them advanced with speed, their long legs much more adapted to the height of the risers. McKinney stuck his head around the corner and shot a couple.