Books One to Three Omnibus (Armada Wars)

by R. Curtis Venture

  “That is very, very true.”

  “You’re not a woman either, are you?”

  “Not always. But here, and now, that’s what I am.”

  He stopped backing away, and pointed the pistol at her face.

  “Very well. What are you?”

  The woman showed no signs at all that she was afraid of him.

  “I am.”

  “You are… what?”

  “Just that.”

  “You’re fucking nuts, that’s what you are.”

  He took a few steps back, turned, and jogged away towards the airlock.

  Behind him, he heard the woman start humming again as she walked after him.

  “You really want to stop following me,” he said.

  “I won’t interfere,” she replied. “In fact I would like to see you safely off this station, before the others arrive.”

  “What others?”

  “They won’t be long now.”

  His jog turned into a canter, and then a run. He was suddenly filled with the urge to flee from Altakanti and never look back. It was the same feeling he had experienced in the bar on Serrofus, only this time he had no reason to ignore it. No reason to stay.

  She was trotting after him, managing to keep up somehow even though she looked like she was only putting in half as much effort as he did.

  He reached the airlock and opened the inner hatch.

  “Don’t forget your air,” she said.

  He cursed under his breath, and looked around the airlock for a charging station. He found two together, yanked a hose out of one of them, and plugged it into the port on his suit.

  “Who are the others?” He asked. His tank was charging quickly, but not quickly enough for his liking.

  “They are the singers,” she said. “But they do not give us the harmony. The harmony is mine.”

  “Fucking insane,” he muttered.

  “If you stay, you will know the answer. But then you might not want to continue, and I very much want you to continue.”

  “Continue?”

  “Spare me the attention of the Shards.”

  “Why?”

  “They will fight me to the bitter end.”

  His tank pinged, and he unclipped the hose.

  “Hurry, Maber Castigon. Hurry away back to your crusade. They are coming.”

  • • •

  “—repeat, come in Leo Fortune.”

  Borreto leaned past Sayad and jabbed at the comm.

  “I thought we were maintaining radio silence?”

  “Forget that; this place is empty. But we’re going to have company.”

  “Company?”

  “I don’t know who, but someone is coming here now. Time is running out. I need you to come get me.”

  “There’s no landing pad,” the pilot said. “It’ll be messy.”

  Borreto nodded. “Sayad says it’ll be difficult to—“

  “I heard. You don’t need to put down, and I’m not sure there’s time. Match rotation and spin; you’re going to have to catch me.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “Piece of cake,” said Sayad.

  “Okay, is it wise?”

  “Not much choice anyway,” said Castigon. “I burned a hell of a lot of propellant on the way over here, and I don’t much fancy trying to hit your position with what little I have left.”

  “Your choice,” Borreto said. “We’re coming now.”

  “Let me know when you’re in position. Out.”

  “You sure you can do this, Sayad?”

  “No problem, Captain.”

  “Get us over there then, and keep an eye out for other ships.”

  “Roger that.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “Prayer, suit up. I’m going to need you to evacuate the cargo bay. We’re going to play catch.”

  “Fuckin’ what?”

  • • •

  Castigon waited, watching the woman warily. Any minute now he expected the crew of the Leo to let him know they were in position. The call could not come a moment too soon.

  “I can’t help but notice you don’t have a helmet,” she said.

  He realised she was right, and cursed himself. He had left it in the exchange centre.

  “Fuck!”

  “Are you there?” It sounded like Sayad.

  “Yeah… just need a few minutes. My helmet—“

  “No time. Something just started moving in the belt, and it’s headed this way. Don’t know what it is but it’s huge. It’s now or never.”

  “But my helmet—“

  “Now, or never.”

  Castigon began to panic, the first time in a long time he had experienced that sensation. He cast his gaze around fretfully, looking for any tool or resource he could adapt to ensure his survival.

  Sayad was telling him they were in position outside the airlock at the same moment that inspiration struck.

  “You can pop the hatch. We’re ready to catch you.”

  “You’d better be.”

  He smiled at the woman, the same smile she had given him.

  “You really want me to continue?”

  “Very much so.”

  “And it’s important to you?”

  “I can’t tell you how important.”

  “Then you won’t mind helping me out.”

  He grabbed the front of her clothes, twisted them in his fist to hold her tight, and hit the emergency override with his free hand. She surprised him by not trying to struggle free.

  The airlock lights began to flick on and off in a circular pattern, and an alarm sounded. A five second delay started to count down on a tiny status display.

  “Why would I mind?” She said. “This is no sacrifice.”

  He looked at her passive, unconcerned face, and knew at once that she expected to die in keeping him alive.

  He emptied his lungs just before the hatch blew, and pulled her towards him.

  The station’s atmosphere pushed them out of the airlock like a cork leaving a bottle. They rocketed out into the cold dark. He kept his eyes closed and hoped that Sayad was quick enough to match his trajectory.

  His temples began to thump, blood roared through his skull in the deathly silence, and his lungs ached to fill again.

  When he could stand it no more, Castigon pressed his mouth against the woman’s lips and formed a seal. He inhaled forcefully, pulling the air out of her lungs. She didn’t try to stop him.

  Her body tumbled away seconds before the cargo bay of the Leo enveloped him.

  The next thing Castigon knew, he was strapped to one of the spongy couches embedded in the bulkheads of the Leo‘s main compartment. His head was filled with cotton wool, and it hurt to open his eyes.

  Someone was doing something to his arm. He grabbed the wrist that came near him, holding it tight, and yanked it to one side.

  “Ow, fuckin’ stop it.” It was Prayer. “It’s just meds, that’s all. You’ve been exposed to space.”

  He let her go, and she pressed the nozzle of a compression injector against his skin.

  “Meds?”

  “Anti-inflammatories, anti-radiation. Best I can do right now.”

  “How long was I out?”

  “Few hours. You had some evaporation burns around your eyes, mouth, and nose. Took care of that, no problem. Thought you’d probably prefer to stay asleep while I thawed out your corneas.”

  “I feel like crap.”

  “You were partially exploded. I’d be worried if you felt okay.”

  “Exploded?”

  “Just fuckin’ around with you. You were only exposed for about thirty seconds, if that. I guess hypoxia knocked you out before you felt your blood start to fizz up.”

  “Yeah, I don’t remember that at all.”

  “You emptied your lungs before the hatch popped, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah. About the only thing I remembered from the old safety drills: never take a lungful of air into hard vacuu
m.”

  “Probably saved your fuckin’ life, that bit of advice.”

  “That and Sayad’s positioning. Speaking of which, where are we?”

  “Draydon’s Folly.”

  “About as far from Altakanti as you can get in one jump.”

  “Too fuckin’ right. Don’t suppose you saw that thing in the belt?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “It was waiting for something. There when we arrived. Sensors thought it was just another asteroid until it started moving under its own power.”

  “Did you recognise it?”

  “Nope. Like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

  “Huh. Well, it’s not our problem. My holo still in the suit?”

  Prayer pushed off carefully, spinning to face away from him, and bumped against the far bulkhead. She opened the storage locker where the EVA suit lived, and tugged it until the chest was exposed. She fished Castigon’s holo out of its slot.

  He took it eagerly when she handed it to him, and began to flip and scroll through the data he had taken.

  “What is it?” She said.

  “More places to go, more people to see,” he said. He glanced up at her. “I had to look up a few old friends.”

  “Did you find them?”

  Castigon stayed silent. His eyes were fixed on the holo, and his mouth curved up slowly into a smile.

  “What is it?”

  “I found him,” Castigon said. “That back-stabbing little fuck. I know where he’s going to be next.”

  — 17 —

  Shaeld Hratha

  Caden stepped off the shuttle’s ramp ahead of Throam, and strode out across the landing platform while Eilentes was still climbing down from the cockpit. All in all, it had been the most uncomfortably frosty twenty minutes he had ever spent in flight.

  “Wait up,” Throam called. “Don’t rush in unprepared.”

  Caden stopped and turned back to face the lander. “Hurry up then.”

  Eilentes was already coming after him, Ambrast mag-tagged to her back. Her expression was thunderous.

  “Don’t let him talk to me,” she said. “I’m not sure what I’ll do to him if he does.”

  “I’m sorry, but you really need to sort that out between yourselves. I’ve done my part.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” she said. “Thanks for your support.”

  “I think maybe that should all wait until later, anyway.”

  She hesitated, on the brink of saying something else, then reconsidered. “Sorry.”

  Throam jogged across to them, holding his rifle across his body. “Ready.”

  “Coming down on the Eyes and Ears building, we probably saved ourselves a good hour,” said Caden. “Branathes had at least that as lead time though, so he’s probably here already. Stay sharp.”

  “Not being funny,” said Throam, “but what kind of a threat is he going to be to us?”

  “Remember Amarist Naeb? She single-handedly took out a fortress. Consider Branathes a mortal threat until he’s no longer breathing.”

  “Shouldn’t be long,” said Throam.

  “Stop bragging. You need to take this seriously.”

  “I do. I’m just not as afraid of him as you seem to be.”

  Caden let the insult slide. “Our links have been added to the security roster, so we should be able to get in and move around the facility without any problems. Once we’re inside, our objective is the detainee holding area on level ten. That’s where they’re keeping her.”

  “Nice,” said Eilentes. “Bet she’s happy about that.”

  “Well it’s only temporary. Let’s go.”

  They double-timed it across to the edge of the landing pad, reached the open end of a tunnel spanning the roof, and before long were at the entrance to the building itself. Caden’s link spoke briefly with the security console, and the doors rumbled open.

  “Here we go again,” said Throam.

  Caden knew what he meant at once. The building was reminiscent of Gemen Station; all gently angled white walls and soft, blue emergency lighting. As soon as the doors behind them closed and shut out the damp, blustery weather, a thick quiet fell around them.

  It was too much like Gemen Station, and Caden began to feel uneasy.

  As if to set itself apart from the empty tomb of the Herros facility, the building echoed with a short burst of muffled gunfire. The noises stopped abruptly, a scream followed them, then all was quiet again.

  “Great.” Caden raised his rifle, and began to move forward cautiously. “Even better than Herros.”

  • • •

  The Spring Eternal dropped out of an unbound wormhole with a rolling, lurching bump, and Brant vomited into a paper bag. He scrunched up the top, looked around, placed the bag carefully in a storage recess next to him, and wiped his mouth with a tissue.

  “The thing I like about you,” said Tirrano, “is that you’re all man.”

  “Whatever.” He tapped a holo on the main console. “Stealth plating engaged.”

  “This thing has stealth plates?”

  “Why do you think I chose it?”

  “I thought you’d just snagged the first ship you found.”

  “Yeah, well maybe I’m smarter than that.”

  She looked at him reproachfully. “I don’t think I’ve ever called you stupid.”

  “A databurst came through with us,” he said. He swiped across the comm. “Search results.”

  “The sweep for Herik Pammon?”

  “Yep. Nothing. The man’s a ghost.”

  “Why were you searching for him?”

  “Caden didn’t mention why. But if I had to guess, I’d say it was something to do with Medran Morlum and Amarist Naeb.”

  “He’s working with them?”

  “Like I said, just guessing. But yeah, that’s probably what it’s about.”

  “Starting to pick up Navy chatter. It’s pretty broken; the system nexus must be collapsing already.”

  “That means the gate is fully locked down,” said Brant. “Any idea how we’re supposed to get back?”

  “This is your party. You don’t have a plan for that?”

  “Guess we’ll be hitching a ride.”

  “You want to follow a ship through a wormhole? What if we get snipped?”

  Brant considered this possibility. To avoid being detected they would have to stay far away from any other ships, running silent with the stealth plates on, then leap for the wormhole once the other ship or ships had passed through the aperture. There was indeed a small but significant chance the wormhole would close as they entered it.

  “We’ll have to think about that later,” he said. “For now, let’s concentrate on finding Kages.”

  “Laying in a course for Aldava.”

  “Avoid the sentry ships. We can take a wide orbit, get the planet between us and them, and go from there.”

  “What about the quarantine network?”

  “As long as it’s still under construction, we’ll be fine. The platforms will be getting assembled by robots.”

  “What could be safer?”

  He smiled at her caustically sarcastic tone.

  “Landing under it when it’s nearly done.”

  She glared at him.

  • • •

  “ICS Disputer from civilian hauler Leo Fortune, please respond.”

  Castigon watched from the main compartment while Borreto continued to try and get an answer from the Navy carrier that waited in high orbit of Meccrace Prime. He had had to argue with the captain at some length before Borreto had consented to entering the system, much less risking this approach. It had finally been worthwhile, but the cost of the trip had doubled once more.

  “Civilian vessel Leo Fortune, we are now tracking. Please state your business.”

  “Urgent message for the Shard Elm Caden,” said Borreto. “I understand you have him aboard?”

  “Stand by,” said the Disputer COMOP officer.

  After a mome
nt the comms holo presented a prompt, and Borreto tapped it. A man in uniform appeared, wearing the rank insignia of a Navy commander.

  “I am First Officer Yuellen,” he said. “I’m told you have a priority message for a passenger on this ship.”

  “Yes Sir,” Borreto said. “Urgent communication for Shard Elm Caden.”

  “I’m afraid he is not currently aboard. Can I pass the message on for you?”

  “I was told to deliver it to him, and him alone.”

  “As I said, he is not aboard.”

  Yuellen was matter-of-fact, and looked back at Borreto expectantly.

  “Is there no way to reach him?”

  The commander sighed.

  “He’s on the surface. If you are able to set up a secure comm relay, you should be able to get your message through.”

  “We have that capability.”

  “Good. I’ll send you the transponder ident for his shuttle. You can bounce your relay off that, and be assured it will remain private.”

  “Thank you very much, Commander. You have been most helpful.”

  Yuellen killed the connection.

  “It’s coming through now,” said Borreto.

  Castigon pulled himself through the entrance to the cockpit, and floated next to the captain.

  “Excellent,” he said. “Now let’s triangulate that transponder.”

  • • •

  “This is bullshit,” Throam said. “No way is Branathes doing all this.”

  Caden was inclined to agree, only there was the inconvenient fact that the security system had not alerted them to any breaches when they themselves had entered. Whoever had attacked the building had been allowed to enter as a friend. It had certainly not been a friend who passed down this corridor before them.

  There was blood on the floor and walls; some of it smeared, some of it sprayed. Bodies lay crumpled on the floor, almost all of them torn up. He saw deep lacerations, dark injuries leaking bright fluids onto paled skin.

  And the walls and doors themselves; there were scratch marks in them, too.

  “Something is in here with us,” said Eilentes.

  “Keep it together,” said Caden. “These people were going about their normal day, unarmed. We’re ready for a fight.”

  “Too fucking right,” said Throam.