Predator (Old Ironsides Book 3)

by Dean Crawford

  ‘Do you have any idea what you’re doing?’ Sula asked in a whisper.

  ‘No,’ Lucas replied.

  Sula stared in horror at the captain, but then Lucas offered her a fleeting smile as Defiance accelerated forward.

  ‘One third impulse,’ the helmsman called. ‘Shutting down, now.’

  The ever present hum of the ship’s engines faded away as one by one the command officers called out warnings.

  ‘Shields down, internal systems into standby.’

  ‘Plasma batteries discharged except for one cannon, relay lines down, all defensive systems off line.’

  The bridge lights flickered and faded out. Suddenly, the entire ship seemed to fall silent as one by one the various displays and screens switched off. Sula took a hold of the command rail again for balance as utter darkness consumed the bridge, broken only by a handful of blinking stand–by lights winking on and off in various colors.

  ‘Helm is down,’ the helmsman replied, ‘steerage is almost lost. Are you sure you want to do this, captain?’

  Captain Lucas nodded. ‘Come to starboard four degrees, then shut down the helm.’

  ‘Four to starboard, aye.’

  The XO’s voice reached out from the darkness one more time. ‘Captain, I must insist one last time that you don’t follow this course of action. The enemy will detect and destroy us the moment we leave the debris field, if we don’t die beforehand. It’s madness.’

  ‘Noted,’ Lucas replied, then looked at the engineering officer. ‘Open the garbage chutes.’

  ‘You wanna take out the trash now?’

  ‘And start dumping fuel,’ Lucas added.

  ‘We need that fuel!’ Walker wailed in dismay. ‘How the hell do you expect to make it home if…’

  ‘It’s no good to us if we can’t leave,’ Lucas murmured, unconcerned.

  The engineering officer shook his head in disbelief as he complied with her orders. Sula watched as the frigate moved through the blackness on the main viewing screen, a huge asteroid before them betraying its presence only by the star fields it blocked from view.

  ‘We’re accelerating,’ Walker noted, ‘its gravity is pulling us in.’

  ‘Hold course,’ Lucas repeated to the helmsman.

  ‘Steerage lost captain,’ the helmsman replied. ‘I couldn’t change course if you wanted me to.’

  Lucas slowly stood up out of her seat as Sula watched the asteroid’s immense black bulk block out the view of everything else ahead of them. Another screen showed the view from behind, a stream of fuel trailing behind the frigate and glistening as it froze in the frigid vacuum of space.

  ‘Plasma battery, stand by,’ she ordered.

  ‘Standing by, cap’n.’

  Sula gripped the rail tightly, watching as Captain Lucas appeared to count down in her mind, her lips moving softly and one hand clenched into a fist by her side as she waited, and waited, and…

  ‘Dump all garbage, port dispenser chutes!’

  ‘Dumping now, port chute!’

  A dull, deep boom reverberated through the frigate’s hull as the vents opened on the port hull, and moments later Sula heard a dim rushing sound as garbage from Defiance’s hull was ejected forcefully into space.

  Then, something quite wonderful happened.

  Defiance began to turn slowly and drift to starboard. Sula sucked in a breath of wonder as she saw their trajectory changing. ‘An equal and opposite reaction,’ she whispered in delight. ‘The garbage ejection is pushing us clear of the asteroid.’

  Captain Lucas snapped an order.

  ‘Fire now! Target the dumped fuel!’

  ‘Firing!’ the tactical officer reported.

  Sula squinted as she saw three plasma shots rocked out astern and a brilliant explosion lit up the debris field in a brief flash of blue–white light. The trail of ejected fuel lit up in the blast in a brilliant explosion that flared like a newborn star and briefly illuminated the entire asteroid field before dying out to be swallowed once more by the eternal blackness.

  ‘Fuel vents closed,’ Captain Lucas ordered.

  ‘Vents closed, aye,’ came the response.

  In the glare of the fading explosion Sula saw a stream of metallic trash trailing behind Defiance and the ship drifting wide of the asteroid’s horizon, yawing slowly to port as she did so.

  ‘The explosion accelerated our drift,’ Sula said. ‘That’s brilliant.’

  Captain Lucas kept her eyes on the screen. ‘Great minds.’

  ‘We’re going to clear the asteroid,’ the helmsman said, the joy evident in his voice. ‘Shall I re start the engines captain?’

  ‘No,’ Lucas said. ‘Wait.’

  Sula watched as Defiance slowly pirouetted, her bow pointing toward the huge asteroid as she sailed silently past it with only a few hundred meters to spare. The cloud of metallic debris spun through space behind them, expanding rapidly and glinting weakly in the faint starlight as the last clouds of burning fuel flickered out in the bitter vacuum.

  ‘We’ve accelerated,’ the helmsman said. ‘The asteroid swung us past in a gravitational slingshot.’

  Sula stared at the captain in wonder as the frigate accelerated away from the asteroid, the alien vessel no longer visible behind it.

  ‘You want them to think we’ve been destroyed inside the debris field,’ Sula whispered. ‘It’s genius.’

  ‘It’s bloody risky,’ Walker said as he stood nearby in the darkness. ‘They might not fall for it.’

  ‘Helm,’ Lucas called. ‘Rear view screen, visuals only, no sensor scans. Check we’re not about to plow into anything hard and dark out there.’

  The helmsman replied within two seconds.

  ‘We’re good for about two minutes,’ he said. ‘Then we hit another of the big ones and it’s all over.’

  As if on cue a clattering sound rippled through the ship as the hull was pelted with a cloud of smaller asteroid fragments.

  ‘Hold course,’ Lucas cautioned the crew. ‘No shields. I don’t want them to detect any emissions from us.’

  Walker’s voice again pierced the darkness. ‘They might see us if they wait long enough.’

  Lucas nodded, agreeing but not debating the point as she watched the screens and waited. The seconds seem to tick by agonizingly slowly, half lit faces staring into the viewing screens.

  ‘One minute now,’ the helmsman said.

  The silence deepened on the bridge as they waited. Then the tactical officer spoke softly.

  ‘I’m detecting some kind of sensor sweep on the passive scan,’ he reported. ‘High energy, but not enough to reach far into the debris field. They’re looking for us.’

  Lucas smiled.

  ‘Just a little longer,’ she promised. ‘They’re scanning the debris we left.’

  ‘Thirty seconds,’ the helmsman whispered, his voice once again a little high pitched.

  Sula watched and waited, counting the seconds down in her mind as she saw on the rear view screen another asteroid astern the ship growing rapidly larger.

  ‘Fifteen seconds.’

  Sula realized that she was gripping the command rail so tightly that her hands were aching. The asteroid behind them filled the screen as the helmsman grasped the ship’s controls and fidgeted in his seat, desperate to act.

  ‘Ten seconds!’

  ‘Hold,’ Lucas said firmly.

  Sula saw the entire bridge crew reach out to hold onto something, bracing for impact. The asteroid was at least ten times as massive as the frigate and there was no way that…

  ‘Super luminal jump detected!’ the tactical officer yelled. ‘They’re gone!’

  ‘Full power to engines, half impulse!’ Lucas snapped. ‘Shields up!’

  The helmsman re–started the frigate’s engines and threw the ship’s throttles forward as the entire bridge lit up again and Sula squinted in the sudden bright light. Defiance shuddered as her engines engaged and with a surge the frigate slowed down and arrested her su
icidal collision course with the asteroid astern.

  ‘Tactical, scan for contacts!’

  There was a moment’s pause and then the tactical officer looked up at the captain and grinned.

  ‘Nothing on the scopes, cap’n, our tail is clear.’

  Sula felt a wondrous relief that danced across the bridge around her as the command crew relaxed, exchanging glances of admiration for their captain.

  ‘Helm,’ Captain Lucas said, ignoring their gazes, ‘get us out of this debris field and set a super luminal course for Ayleea.’

  ‘Aye, cap’n.’

  Sula watched as Captain Lucas returned to her seat, straightened her uniform and sat down as though nothing had happened. Her voice rang out across the bridge as the command crew hurried to carry out her orders.

  ‘All plasma batteries to full power, all shields charged, all gravitational plating engaged and make sure the engineering team get to the stern and repair the damage we took as best they can. Let’s go rescue this lost boy pilot and find out what the hell happened to Ayleea!’

  Ellen Goldberg threw one arm around Sula’s neck and squeezed.

  ‘Okay, maybe you do have a place here. Let’s hope that miserable son of a gun Tyrone appreciates our efforts on his behalf.’

  ***

  XXIV

  Ayleea

  The thick foliage surrounding Tyrone was laden with an dense odor of decay. He could hear the sound of movement in the jungles and heard the sound of footfalls around him but he could see nothing for his eyes were blindfolded. Normally, he would have accessed a sensory display in his ocular implant to give him an impression of where they were going, but the Ayleeans had attached a device to his neck that scrambled the implant. Tyrone was effectively blind, and with his hands bound behind his back he stumbled and staggered through the forest.

  His captors numbered four, and they had wasted no time in silencing Tyrone with a brutal blow to the side of his head. Bound and blindfolded within sixty seconds, they were now moving at a rapid rate through the forests, the grunts and snarls of his captors driving him on. The only thing that had confused Tyrone was the fact that they had applied a salve to the drone wound in his belly that had miraculously quelled the pain and reduced the swelling within minutes, allowing him to walk again. At least they didn’t want him dead, yet.

  About all that he could tell was that they were descending deep into a valley system, heading ever downhill. The heat was stifling, Tyrone’s flight suit drenching him in sweat as he staggered along. The Ayleeans stopped periodically to drink, allowing Tyrone the chance to quench his thirst before they set off again. His head pounded from dehydration and his sense of balance was weak and untrustworthy, but eventually he felt the ground beneath their feet level out and the sound of rushing water once more.

  Something sharp prodded him in the chest and brought him to a stop. Moments later, the blindfold was torn from his eyes. To his surprise he barely squinted as the light hit him, so pale and weak down here that he found he could see perfectly normally in the half darkness.

  They were standing in the depths of a ravine, soaring mountains reaching up into dense clouds tumbling end over end thousands of feet above them that glowed with red light from the sky above. Moist, warm air was rising up to hit cooler flows near the peaks, condensing out as rain that never reached the surface and merely coiled in endless vortexes like angel’s wings. The forest was thick on either side of them, a black mass of squat, tightly packed trees and vines, while before Tyrone was a plunging waterfall. The deluge crashed down at what looked like a ridiculous speed, the water tumbling far faster than that on earth and thundering down into a wide lake upon the shore of which they stood.

  ‘Do we kill him?’

  The four Ayleeans stood back and watched Tyrone for a moment in silence. Their leader had spoken, easily identified by the yellow chevrons on his body armor.

  ‘The elders want him alive,’ another growled.

  ‘I’m in favour of that,’ Tyrone offered.

  ‘You were not told to speak!’ the Ayleean leader snapped and stepped forward as he slammed one bunched fist into Tyrone’s belly.

  Tyrone gasped as he dropped to his knees, coughing in the hot air.

  ‘We must not harm him,’ said another as Tyrone struggled to recover his breath. ‘They were here, the humans, but then they left us again.’

  ‘I’d have expected nothing less,’ snarled another. ‘Their peace charter was never more than a prelude to war. I say they brought this upon us deliberately. We should kill him now Shylo, before it is too late.’

  Tyrone sucked in a lung full of hot air.

  ‘We got hit too,’ he rasped, his head pounding. ‘Our frigates barely made it out.’

  The leader of the Ayleean gang, Shylo, grabbed Tyrone’s collar and with one massive arm hauled him to his feet.

  ‘Where did they go?’ he growled at Tyrone, his huge disfigured face inches away so that Tyrone could smell his rank breath and see festering wounds on his leathery skin.

  ‘Tactical egress leaps into super luminal,’ Tyrone replied breathlessly. ‘They’ll probably try to make it back to Sol without being followed.’

  The Ayleean released Tyrone, who swayed unsteadily on his feet.

  ‘Where they will close ranks and leave us to die,’ he growled.

  The more aggressive Ayleean in the group pulled a broad, ornate knife from a sheath on his back that was as long as Tyrone’s arm, the blade dulled with dried blood.

  ‘Let me open him up, one limb at a time.’

  Tyrone sensed the indecision in the group and knew that he had to speak. ‘I answered your distress call.’

  Shylo peered at him. ‘What distress call?’

  ‘The one sent from this location,’ Tyrone replied. ‘I landed because I couldn’t get aboard my frigate in time for it to jump. I figured I’d stand more of a chance down here.’

  ‘You stand more chance of being sliced into tiny pieces,’ the aggressive Ayleean sneered at him.

  ‘You think I want to be here?’ Tyrone snapped. ‘If I’d known you were an Ayleean force I’d have landed somewhere else!’

  The Ayleean lunged forward with his blade raised but Shylo blocked his companion forcefully, stayed the blade with one thick hand. Shylo reached up to his chin with his other hand and stroked it, long nails rasping against tough skin.

  ‘Where did the capital ship go?’ he asked.

  ‘Jumped out of the system after our frigates.’

  One of the other Ayleeans pointed at Tyrone. ‘He could be one of them.’

  ‘One of what?’ Tyrone asked.

  Shylo pointed up to the sky with one long finger. ‘The ones who came from above, who infiltrated our people. They took our forms, and when they attacked we were broken from within.’

  Tyrone winced. ‘Shape shifters? Like an icy gray material, right?’

  Shylo nodded and Tyrone saw the other Ayleeans taking notice of what he was saying.

  ‘We heard rumors,’ Tyrone said, ‘about some highly classified briefing, that an unknown substance that possessed a fluid form had infiltrated one of our capital ships. They called it “goo” and although it was destroyed, the CSS leadership feared that it would return. They said that an Ayleean ship had also been infected.’

  Shylo nodded. ‘That is true.’

  Tyrone jerked his head up to the skies above them. ‘Whatever the hell is going on here, it’s not CSS behind it. We sent a senate vessel, Fortitude, here to sign the final peace charter with Ayleea. We lost contact with her two days ago and so two frigates were dispatched to check things out. We thought that elements within the Ayleean leadership might have reneged on the deal and taken the ship.’

  A low series of discontented growls rippled through the Ayleeans but Shylo silenced his companions with a wave of his hand.

  ‘Enough,’ he muttered. ‘There was no back tracking on the deal, even though some of the Ayleean Council opposed the charter. When Fortitud
e arrived our fleet had already been destroyed from within.’

  Tryone suddenly felt cold despite the cloying heat of the jungle. ‘They infiltrated your fleet?’

  Shylo nodded. ‘Everything, thousands of them.’

  Tyrone felt the first surge of panic bolt through him. ‘We have to warn them! You’ve got to get a message to Sol!’

  ‘Our signals are blocked,’ Shylo replied. ‘Their armada prevents our escape.’

  ‘Armada?’ Tyrone echoed. ‘We only encountered one vessel, a big one.’

  Shylo watched him for a moment longer, and then he gently pushed his companion’s blade away from where it hovered beside Tyrone’s head.

  ‘Come,’ he said, ‘you must tell the elders what you know.’

  Tyrone was pushed in the direction of the waterfall as Shylo led the way, and Tyrone knew instantly that he would have to negotiate the dense, dark waters despite the incredible force with which they were falling.

  ‘I’ll never survive moving through that,’ he said as they neared the falls, the air thick with swirling mists that coiled and tumbled on the hot air.

  ‘We’re not going through,’ Shylo growled as they moved across the slippery rocks, the water flowing and churning lethargically beside them like black oil.

  ‘That’s a relief.’

  ‘We’re going under.’

  Before Tyrone could answer two of the towering Ayleean warriors took an arm each and Tyrone let out a howl of despair as they suddenly leaped off the rocks toward the thick, churning water. Tyrone took a deep breath and then they plunged into the fluid and vanished beneath the surface.

  It was all that he could do to keep the air in his lungs as he hit the water. It felt like treacle and his legs folded up beneath him as they plunged feet first beneath the waves. The Ayleeans dove down with powerful strokes, Tyrone dragged with them like a dead weight through the thick water. He tried to open his eyes but it was as though they were glued half shut and he could barely see anything but the churning surface above them. He felt the blows of the waterfall drive them down deeper and his lungs felt as though they were about to burst, only the chill of the water a relief from the incessant heat of the jungle.