“He’s out, I’m seeing spots. Crege, level us out, fast! We’re losing consciousness!”
Crege stopped his mad spin and straightened the ship out. My head stopped spinning and blood started flowing properly again. I heard Fel stirring. Max tapped some commands on her console and quickly reconfigured her station.
“Good shot! We took out five of the drones. Five left.” She reported.
“Interceptors engaging.”
“Weapons fire detected! All hands brace!”
Once more the ship was wracked with hits from the enemy drones.
“Hull breaches detected Deck 2, main spaces!” Max called.
Seth! Artemis is hurt! There’s air hissing through the bulkheads!
“Zoe has injured. She on the scene but there’s a hull breach near her.”
“Damage control teams! New priority, Deck 2 hull breach main living spaces! Engineering, seal all hatches to forward cargo once Hergo and Denno report they’re clear!”
“Aya aye, Captain!”
Stay calm, Zoe. Can you see a canister of polycrete foam? Should be near the fire extinguisher.
Yeah I already used it, the leaks have stopped, but Artemis is in bad shape. Shrapnel went into her and didn’t exit. She’s bleeding out.
A coldness seeped into my gut. If she dies…boom, the charges go off and we’re dead meat.
“I’m okay. Sorry, Captain.” Said Fel in a groggy voice.
“Systems are yours, Fel. No harm done.”
The enemy drones had scattered, and I couldn’t use the beamer again for a few minutes anyway. My interceptors were keeping up with the drones, however and starting to take them apart.
“Enemy contact moving to intercept. High G thrust! Time to intercept eleven seconds!” That was fast! They must have been pulling close to ten gee’s. That kind of acceleration is nearly fatal to living beings. Then my time in the military paid off.
“They’re boarding pods! Synthetic assault team!” I called.
“All hands brace for impact!”
Synthetics were common parlance for robots. They were used in all manner of tasks throughout the galaxy, from manual labour to security and military applications. They were cheap, didn’t complain about conditions, and could be used in hostile environments. They were not the smartest workers, however, and usually required some kind of supervision. These would be one of the several military synthetic models that were in circulation. I’d fought against them before and despite their lack of sophisticated tactics, where effective troops. No one likes to fight against a foe that never gives up, never surrenders and never retreats. They fight to the last, unless their controller recalls them.
An almighty crash sounded throughout the ship as the boarding pod collided with ours. Boarding pods are nothing more than an engine with a small compartment attached to the front. Magnetic clamps secure the pod to enemy ships, and plasma cutters sheer through the hull plating granting access to the ship.
“Hull breach detected Deck 2 main living spaces!”
“Seth, pass drone control to Fel. Crege, get out I’ll pilot. You two go deal with our boarders.”
“Yes, ma’am!” I called as I bounded out of my seat and punched open a locker near the hatch to the command module. I reached inside and retrieved a sword and a T-43 blaster. The T-43 wasn’t as accurate at the PX-2, my weapon of choice, but it packs a heavier punch. It also chews through batteries faster. I grabbed a brace of batteries and stuffed them into my pockets while securing the T-43 into my leg holster. I debated a quick stop at my cabin to grab my ablative coat, but Crege flew down the ladder well to Deck 2 without waiting to see if I was following and thought better of it.
Deck 2 was a mess. A high pitched whistling sound and a stiff breeze told us there was air escaping, and the mess deck was a shambles. The mess deck was a circular affair, with several passages spreading fore and after from the mess deck that lead into the cabins. The port side bulkhead was ablaze with plasma and molten metal as the boarding pod was almost done with the cutting. Crege and I kicked over a table and hastily made some cover. We glanced at each other just before the bulkhead went crashing down, mentally checking ourselves for the coming fight. As the first synthetic stepped through the opening, we opened fire.
Our efforts were met with bright flashes of shield hits and Crege swore. Our barrage of shots managed to overload the first synthetic’s shield and the next few bolts smashed it into scrap metal. The rest of the robots poured in while we were taking down the sacrificial synthetic. The enemy was humanoid in shape, smaller than a normal human, but in place of legs were four spindly appendages that were used to navigate terrain. They hand two arms, one ending in an energy weapon, the other a grasping hand with an opposable digit. They had triangular heads, three camera mounts but no audio speakers.
The synthetics quickly spread out across the mess deck. Some went for cover while the five attempted to push us back. We concentrated fire on the one after the other, taking several shots to drop each shield. All up I countered a dozen of the robots, including the first one we’d taken down. We dropped three of the oncoming quintet but two broke into our ranks and we were forced to drop back and use our swords. The others in cover started to hop over their barricades and advance. Crege and I quickly fell back to the ladder well to the lower decks. If we could lure them away from the command module that should buy us some time.
We almost started down the ladder well when we saw Denno or Hergo coming up it.
“Down!” I called. “Are you armed?”
“Thudgunz!” came the hissing reply. Good, they’d rushed to the armoury before coming up. They must have been on their way to the mess deck to help Zoe when the impact had been called. Thudguns were the energy equivalent of a black powder shotgun. They fired short, wide bursts of gravitational energy. The effect is quite dramatic, literally pounding the crap out of whatever gets hit with the shock wave. The perfect weapon for repelling boarders.
“Fall back, we’re coming down. When we’re clear let them have it!”
The Argen backed down the ladder well and moved behind a supply crate. The two synthetics that rushed us leapt over the overturned tables we’d used as cover and we quickly moved to engage them in melee. I ducked inside a synthetic’s shield bubble and smashed my blade down on its weapon arm, tearing it free of the body. Crege’s lurzak flashed a brilliant blast of electrical energy and dispatched his foe in one savage chop. I ducked under my synthetic’s feeble attempt to grab me and I kicked it towards Crege who spun and smashed him blade into the robot’s torso. The burst of energy caused the synthetic to nearly explode. We quickly hit the deck as blaster shots peppered around us. I peered over the table and saw several more synthetics exit the drop pod and join the others, who began to advance in earnest now that we were not firing at them. We dashed down the ladder well and ran to where the two Argen were crouched down. When three of the synthetics were on the ladder, the two Argen let loose with their Thudguns. The effect was gratifying. Bits of synthetic were raining down all over the ladder well and the cargo hold below.
I noticed the whistling sound was stronger here, and the rush of air was making loose debris and clothing flap about. I turned behind me and saw three hull breaches in the deck about five metres behind me, near where Crege I and usually spar. The Argen had used a hull sealing compound called polycrete foam to start repairs on the breach, but were called away to assist Zoe before they could finish. Eric was waiting in engineering to seal the compartment off, but had not yet received the all clear from the Argen to do so. We were bleeding atmosphere. I grabbed the nearest Argen’s Thudgun off him and yelled over the din of rushing air.
“We’ll hold them here, you two finish up on the breaches!”
The pair nodded and the other tossed his Thudgun to Crege. They went to work immediately, grabbing a fresh canister of polycrete foam. More synthetics came down the ladder well, this time they just leapt down onto the deck below. Max decided at that time to
do a high gee manoeuvre and we were all thrown to the deck in a sprawl. The synthetics were unsteady, but remained upright. They stared blasting shots at our cover. I scrambled back to my crate and fired a shot blindly over the top of the crate. I could hear more synthetics clanking down to the deck. Crege poked his head and gun over the lip of a crate and got off a blast the rocked two synthetics backwards but didn’t destroy them. The pause in fire as the synthetics adjusted their aim or steadied themselves was all I needed to lean out and get a good shot off. I hammered the pair that Crege had hit earlier, their shields depleted from his blast. A dull thud and a loud bang was followed by the sound of a bucket of bolts being thrown against the bulkhead. I counted seven more synthetics. I turned my Thudgun to the side and checked the charge. I was down to a four shots left.
The problem with Thudguns is that they’re manufactured by one of those companies that decide that standardised ports and connectors are a bad thing, and chose to go with propriety designed batteries and charging. This meant that you had to use Thudgun batteries or a Thudgun charging cable. I guess it made sense from a revenue prospective, but it was awfully inconvenient when you had a pocket full of batteries that won’t fit and four shots left.
I snapped off another shot over the crate but I only snagged one of the robots and overloaded its shields. They were beginning to disperse and find cover on the other side of the cargo hold. A couple of bolts smacked into my crate for my efforts, and a piece of shrapnel cut my ear as I dropped back down.
Crege popped up as I went down and fired off another shot, but all I could here was the sound of supply crates banging together. I looked over at him, grimly. The crazy bastard was smiling excitedly.
“We have the calak pinned!” he called
“So are we!”
He appeared to consider that for a moment and then he popped up again and fired once more. This time I could hear more than one shield pop and fizzle. I followed him up and fired in the same direction, catching two who had tried to advance. One exploded and the other was spun about and thrown back into some crates. Crege stayed up and fired again into another cluster of crates covering the synthetics. The crates broke free of their securing straps and went tumbling into the robots behind them. I caught his intent and join his barrage, firing off my last two rounds. We tossed our guns aside and I drew my pistol, snapping off loud, heavy blaster bolts at the exposed synthetics. Crege leaped clear over the crates with Garz’a battle cry and started pounding his lurzak blade into the disoriented robots. They were trying to decide if they should find more cover or turn to face the crazed warrior. Their inability to adjust tactics quickly was their undoing, and we made short work of them in no time. I blasted the final synthetic to pieces as Crege spun about looking for more targets. When he could see no more, he threw his head back let off a triumphant screech that sounded eerily like an eagle.
Hergo and Denno finished patching up the breeches and we went up to Deck 2 to start on securing the boarding pod. I left the others to work and went in search of Zoe. As I jogged through the living spaces I sent Max a message.
Boarders eliminated. Forward Cargo breech contained. Damage control started on boarding pod breech. Checking in on Zoe.
Very good! Last of the drones are destroyed, we’re getting the Dreaming back on task.
We were safe, for now. Unless Artemis dies. Then we’re all screwed.
14.
I got to Zoe’s cabin hatch and caught my breath. I hit the hatch release and saw Zoe covered in blood holding Artemis’ head in her lap. Artemis was unconscious, bloody bed sheets tied around her upper torso. She was pale and sickly looking, a cold sweat mingling with the blood on her face. She looked so vulnerable. I realised I was staring.
“I couldn’t move her by myself.” Explained Zoe, looking up at me, “We need to get her to med lab. She needs blood nanites.”
“Right, is she stable?”
“For now, but her pulse is weak. She took a piece of the bulkhead into her clavicle and it nicked an artery. I clamped it with my kit, but we have to be careful when we carry her that it doesn’t break free.”
“Ok, can we get a stretcher? Might make it safer.”
“Hurry.”
I ran back down the passageway to one of the many emergency lockers positioned around the ship and pulled out a pair of rods a metre long. I ran back and I activated the rods and they telescoped out to over two metres long and were joined by a fabric netting. We carefully slid it under the comatose Artemis and then lifter her gentle. Zoe was small and lacked any real muscle, but she hoisted the stretcher without any qualms. I began to realise her strength was lent to her by adrenaline and worry, the same kind that lets a mothers tear the doors off a burning vehicle to save a child.
We made our way down to med lab and transferred Artemis to the surgical table. Zoe immediately went to work once more. She connected several probes and administered an injection then paused briefly, her eyes twitching from side to side. She must have been reading data off her overlay fed to her by the monitoring devices. She ran around the table, started rifling through a medical cabinet, and came back with a few bundles of nanite packages and more bandages and sutures.
“Out!” she yelled, as she ran around the table again to a different cupboard, I had to move away to let her pass.
“Let me know if she gets any worse?” I asked as I backed out of the compartment.
“Yep.”
Max, we need to evacuate engineering spaces. Artemis is in critical condition.
On it. Get back up here.
On my way.
When I got to the command module, Crege was back in the pilot’s seat and Fel was mashing keys all over his console. Max was in the middle of a conversation over the communications link.
“I understand that, but I can’t comply with your request. I don’t know who it is you’re looking for. They’re certainly not on this boat. Dreaming of Atmosphere over.”
She looked up at me in worry as I sat down and took stock of our sensors and status. We’d taken a beating from those drones, but with some hull repair we’ll be ship shape in a few hours. Only a few systems were damaged, but luckily most of the hits landed in the cargo hold and the living spaces. It looked like all our hull breeches were contained. What was worrying was the contact we were reading at eleven million kilometres ahead. I was betting that it was the control ship that left behind those drones. My sensor readings were off, somehow. I turned to Fel for clarification.
“It’s an organo-ship.” He said simply.
Organo-ships, or Organic Ships, are vessels that are the sole propriety of the Corporations. They are composed of a blend of Nano-technology and bio-technology fused into massive ships that are more alive than they are simple metal and machine. They are great black leviathans that linger at the periphery of the frontiers, but mostly prowl the inner systems worlds. The Corporations are the masters of the galaxy; they hold all the patents, control all the technology and lend all the money. Even the Galactic Protectorate dances to their tune. The Corporations are not one governing body, however, they are a collective of super massive companies that span generations. They hold themselves aloof from galactic society in general, and instead keep their own company. They are the distant emperors and bankers of the known universe.
The organo-ships are a totally unknown technology to most people, only a select few understand how they operate or function outside of Corporate circles. They rarely become involved in the affairs of mortal men, but when they did it was seldom to the betterment of whoever was caught up in their schemes. No, the presence of an organo-ship was bad news. Bad news for us.
Max was waiting for a reply from the ship she was talking with, as due to the distances instantaneous communication was impossible. There was about a thirty second delay in the conversation. She connected me to the feed so that I could listen in. After a tense wait the reply came in.
“Spear of Orion copies your last. You’ll forgive me if I do not take y
our word for it. Shuttles are enroute to you position and will intercept in twelve hours. Maintain your present course and speed. Any deviation or hostile action against our shuttles will be considered a hostile action against the Koveli-Xue Galactic Corporation. Acknowledge this transmission and your compliance. Spear of Orion over.”
Max looked straight ahead, her brow furrowed.
“We can’t outrun them, not with our hull breeches.” I reminded her.
“They want Artemis.”
“What? Why? How did they know she was here?”
“Does it matter? If they take her off here, she could set off the bombs. Or they could go off automatically. Or they could kill her and the bombs go off as well.”
“We could use old Hieron’s smuggling compartment.”
“That’s not even magnetically shielded.”
“It doesn’t need to be, they won’t even think to look for a cavity.”
She mulled it over.
“We don’t have much choice do we? We’ll have to do some forensics clean up. And clear the memory of the synthetics, can’t have them re-activating them and seeing they’ve been duped. We got twelve hours.” She activated the comms link, “Dreaming of Atmosphere acknowledges your last. Standing by for compliance. Dreaming of Atmosphere out.”
Max then went and piped all the crew to the cargo deck for a meeting. It was quick and to the point, filling us all in on what transpired and how we were going to proceed. Eric and Mal were to begin repairs immediately, Hergo and Denno were to assist. Fel was collect all the brain modules of the synthetics do wipe them while Zoe was to work to get Artemis stable enough to enshroud her in an old smuggling compartment that my grandfather had installed during his more adventurous days. Max went to work with Crege making sure all that any blood in the med lab and living spaces was removed or at least made unidentifiable. I helped, starting on Zoe’s cabin, and was ensuring the polycrete foam in place there was good enough for now.
Dreaming of Atmosphere Page 11
