The Dauntless: (War of the Ancients Trilogy Book 1)

by Alex Kings

  They rounded a corner and finally found a door labelled Docking Area. Yilva needed the maximum security level to open it. When she did, it led to a set of stairs leading down.

  “So,” continued Hanson as they headed down the stairs, “I'm hoping we can stop that ship from here. Did you see it was supported by smart matter? Perhaps we can get control of them and use them to lock the ship down if it tried to take off. Yilva, you think you can do that?”

  “Maybe! Maybe. It depends on a lot of thing. I …”

  “Okay, that's good enough. Try and see what you can do. If that doesn't work, maybe the Dauntless can stop it in orbit.” As he reached to bottom of the stairs, Hanson activated his comms and called, “Hanson to Dauntless.”

  The comms returned a pathetic warble. No signal.

  “Everyone, check your comms. Mine's blocked.”

  “Shit. Me too,” said Agatha.

  “Can confirm that,” said Moore. “So they're jamming our signal?”

  “They know we're here,” said Hanson.

  Yilva moved forward to open the door.

  “And they're leaving us alone?” said Agatha. She laughed. “Maybe they don't want to screw with us after last time!”

  Hanson sighed. “That was my thought, too. That, and I don't imagine they have much beyond basic security here.”

  Open, guillotine-like barriers were spaced evenly along the corridor here. They seemed to function like doors. They were plated with inch-thick sapphiroid.

  A little further along, another broad window looked out on the squat ship resting beside them. Already, docking tubes were being retracted. He saw a loader filled with one last batch of stasis pods trundling along into an open airlock on the ship's hull. The airlock closed behind it. The facility was probably empty by now.

  And just past that was a room sticking out into the open bay, holding two broad consoles and an array of screens.

  “Here,” said Yilva, pulling out her tablet and extending it. “If there's a way, it's here.” She plugged her tablet into the nearest console and gestured at the screen. After a moment she grinned and her tail flopped excitedly back and forth. “We're in! I'm looking for the docking ribbon controls.”

  Hanson looked out the window. It didn't look like there was any more traffic going onto the ship. The docking tubes and walkways detached from its hull and began to fold back into the facility. “I don't want to hurry you, Yilva,” he began.

  “Working as fast as I can,” said Yilva. Her fingers danced over the surface of the terminal. “Here! Docking ribbons. Got it! Let me just … Wait …” Her tail went rigid. “Oh crumbs.” She fell silent for a second, frowning. “I can't do it.”

  “No other way?” Hanson asked.

  “No. The docking ribbons physically can't hold the ship down.” Yilva stared at him. Then her eyes widened, and she went back to the terminal. “But there's one other thing we can try!”

  Chapter 44: Orbital Defence Systems

  “We've got a jump-in,” said Dunn.

  “Show me,” said Lanik.

  The details appeared on his console: A Glaber hunter ship. The same ship, in fact, that had attacked them above Vane. Back then, it had just about been a stalemate. But now, with the damage the Dauntless had taken …

  “The hunter just released a shuttle,” said Dunn. “It's on a fast descent towards Iona. Towards the facility.”

  The move had obviously been to throw him off-guard. Quick thinking was essential. “Can we shoot it down?” he asked.

  “No, sir. It's in the hunter's shadow.” Dunn's console beeped. “The hunter is hailing us. And aiming at us.”

  “Let them wait,” said Lanik. “Call Hanson.”

  After a moment's pause, Dunn said, “We can't get through. The signal's being jammed.”

  “By the hunter?”

  “From the facility.”

  Lanik felt his jaw tense. “Target the hunter with all weapons. And respond to their hail. Put it through to my console.”

  As soon as the Glaber's face appeared on the screen, Lanik said, “What do you want?” before the Glaber had a chance to reply.

  The Glaber snarled at him. A superficially aggressive gesture, thought Lanik, disguising indecision.

  Lanik felt like his insides were coated with cold wax. A suspicion popped up: Whoever had orchestrated all this … the attack, the shuttle, the jammed signal … had another trick up their sleeves. The Glaber, judging by it's momentary hesitation, wasn't the leader of the hive …

  “Give us the Petaur's datachip,” it said. “Or we will destroy you, then the colony.”

  Lanik was just about to reply with the very reasonable counter that destroying the Dauntless would mean nobody got the datachip. Then he realised. The Glaber was stalling. “Cut the signal,” he ordered shortly. And as soon as that was done, “Miller, I want a fire team down to Yilva's quarters. To secure the datachip. Bring it to the CIC.”

  Miller turned to give him an uncertain look.

  “Now,” said Lanik firmly. “Ask questions later.”

  Miller went back to her console. “Fire team alpha to guest quarters, asap. Retrieve datachip. Bring it to the CIC.”

  “Good,” said Lanik. “Now hail Mayor Orlov.”

  It took a few moments before Orlov's face appeared on the display. She looked a little pale, but her face was set, and she spoke firmly: “I presume you're the reason why a hostile ship had just jumped into orbit?” she said. “And where is Hanson?”

  “Hanson is planetside. And I'm afraid so,” said Lanik. “I can make a full apology later. Right now, I hope you have orbital defence systems?”

  “A few …” said Orlov. She sounded doubtful.

  “As backup, it should be enough. I know you can't think very highly of us now, but it would be a great help if you could give us access to those systems.”

  Orlov nodded. “Good luck, commander. And yes, I will be expecting an apology from you and your captain after this.”

  Moments after she'd gone, Dunn said, “We're receiving access codes to Iona's defence systems. Kinetic weapons on the main station, plus five independent laser satellites.”

  “Have them all target the hunter,” Lanik ordered.

  The hunter still hadn't fired.

  “Sir!” called Miller. “Report from Ensign Toboso. Intruders, heading for the guest quarters. We've …” She paused for a moment. “We've lost contact.”

  That was it – the card up his opponent's sleeve. The bastards were already aboard the ship. “Intruder alert,” he ordered. “Prepare another fire team, and in the meantime have all available officers engage. Give me numbers, Lieutenant. ”

  “Yes, sir,” said Miller.

  As she was giving the orders, Lanik stifled a lone note of panic he felt rising with himself. Thank, man. Think. For the intruders to have got to Yilva's quarters so quickly, they must have arrived about the time the Glaber hunter jumped in.

  Which meant that hunter couldn't have sent out the stealth shuttle. Someone was hiding out there. And if they were hiding, they could have another ship.

  As he realised it this, the CIC shook and a deep boom echoed through the Dauntless.

  “The hunter has opened fire,” said Dunn.

  Chapter 45: Beginning Extraction

  Urrut was standing guard when the corridor boomed around him. So, he thought, they've finally opened fire. Try not to blow up the ship before the mission is over. The first Blank was cutting through the door to the Petaur's quarters. It seemed not to notice the first bang, or the shaking or the numerous grinding, creaking, cracking sounds which followed.

  His Glaber companion and the second Blank stood ahead of him a little way up the corridor. Another dead human lay at their feet. The third they'd encountered, but this one had managed to get off a message to its commanders. Things were going to get ugly soon.

  Very soon. From the pounding on the floor up ahead, it sounded like a whole platoon was coming to meet them. The Glaber from team t
wo unhooked a grenade from its belt, looked to the second blank. “Now,” ordered the blank, and the Glaber threw his grenade down the corridor.

  The boom got lost into others coming from outside the ship. A brief flame licked down the corridor. Urrut heard humans screaming. He ground his teeth together in pleasure.

  “Urrut,” ordered the first blank. It had cut through the door, and was summoning him forward. Team one: Obtain the datachip. Alright. He followed the Blank through the hole.

  The room stank of Petaur. He disliked their scent even more than the human smell. He gave a quick visual search of the room and, finding nothing, started rifling through a set of drawers while the Blank searched the other side of the room. The ship boomed and shuddered again. Outside, he heard the roar of assault rifles on both sides – team two had apparently given up their silent pistols for something more effective.

  In the next drawer, he found it, lying next to a tablet. He held it aloft and called the Blank over. In one quick motion, the Blank was across the room with a tablet out and extended. It plugged the tablet into the datachip, skimmed the data, then nodded. “Return to the shuttle,” it ordered, putting both tablet and datachip into a slot on its armour.

  Urrut drew his assault rifle and went to the hole in the door. He peered out. A little to his right, his Glaber companion lay dead on the floor with the belly of his armour torn open. Beside it was the second blank. It was taking cover behind a bulkhead, firing intermittently with a rifle.

  “Beginning extraction,” said the first Blank from behind Urrut. It didn't shout, but the volume was loud enough to be heard easily over the gunfire.

  The second Blank gave no sign of answering, but ducked and grabbed the two remaining grenades from the dead Glaber's belt. It pulled the pin on the first and hurled it down the corridor. Shouts came, followed by a deafening crack.

  Urrut moved out into the corridor, senses alert and rifle raised, as the second Blank pulled the pin on the second grenade. Another muffled boom came from outside, and the ship lurched. The first Blank followed him out into the corridor.

  The first Blank and Urrut headed down the corridor, away from the battle and back towards the shuttle. Gunfire raged behind him. As they reached the end of the corridor and were about to turn off to another, he glanced back in time to see the second Blank fall to its knees. The back of its suit came away as a bullet pierced right through it. In a last move, it threw another grenade.

  He turned and ran round the corner. Two explosions came within a couple of seconds of one another: First the grenade, then the more powerful but somehow softer whump that pounded at his eardrums.

  They were nearly at the shuttle now. The corridor they were in ran from port to starboard – halfway down its length was the access to the shuttle. On its far end, it turned right onto another fore-aft corridor.

  As he ran down it, another human appeared round the corner at the far end of the corridor. It was armed, but not prepared. He shot it immediately, but a moment later a second human ducked out from the cover of the corner and returned fire. It caught the Blank in the shoulder – Urrut saw the arm go limp, and the blood jet out through the back against the chrome corridor wall. The Blank kept running.

  He returned fire, but the human was already in cover again. He had none, until he reached the last segment of corridor.

  Nearly there. Three metres. Two. One.

  Pain blossomed from his belly. The sound of the gunshot seemed to come a second later. He stumbled, and just about managed to round the corner.

  In cover, safe for a second at least, Urrut sank to his knees. That was it, he knew intuitively. A fatal wound. The shot had pierced his lungs.

  In one smooth motion, the Blank grabbed his shoulder and dragged him through the hole. “There will be a depressurisation,” it reminded him, then dropped him next to the bomb.

  A purely tactical decision, Urrut though. He was mortally wounded, but he might be able to hold off the ship's crew a little while longer. The Blank knew that.

  Urrut, being a Glaber, expected no sympathy, and the Blank offered none. It tapped at the sheet of smart matter holding the air seal.

  The boots of the human defenders pounded on their metal floor, a couple of seconds away at the most. Urrut held onto the bomb to steady himself.

  The smart matter sheet collapsed. A moment later, it was pulled out the hole into space. A gale rushed past Urrut's ears. The blank, steadying itself against the bulkheads, allowed itself to be pulled out towards the shuttle.

  As the rush of air rose to a howl, Urrut raised his gun.

  Chapter 46: Lethal Dose

  “Another trick, yes,” said Yilva without looking up from the terminal. “What I can do is increase the monopole feed into the engines. Set it to overload.”

  “Blow up the ship?” said Agatha. “Cool!”

  “No, no, no. Safety systems will cut in. First sign of an overload, the engines will shut down. Takes an hour to restart.”

  “Do it,” ordered Hanson.

  “Already halfway there!” Yilva grinned. Then her fingers froze above the console. “Oh.”

  Hanson looked at her. “Please tell me we can do this.”

  Yilva began tapping at the screen more slowly, ears pinned and tail rigid. “We can. But there's a problem. Oh crumbs, oh crumbs.” She stopped again, looked up at Hanson. “This ship, it's been jury-rigged. It doesn't have a proper cleaning system. The emergency engine shutdown will vent radioactive dust into the atmosphere.”

  Hanson went cold. “How much? Will it hurt the colonists?”

  Yilva nodded in three short, sharp bursts. “Everyone within a hundred miles gets a lethal dose. After that, depending on weather patterns, anywhere on the planet could get a high dose.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “We might get out if we get to the shuttle before the dust settles. I've … I've set it up in case you want to.”

  And there was the choice. Destroy the colony, or stop the ship?

  Hanson shook his head. “Find another way.”

  “There is no other way!” said Yilva.

  And then Srak raised his gun.

  The giant handgun, almost as big as a rifle, pointed straight at Hanson's chest. “No,” Srak said. “We do this now.”

  Immediately Moore had her own gun aimed at Srak.

  Agatha had hers up in turn, machine pistol at Moore's temple. “Calm down, princess,” Agatha hissed. Then: “Srak, buddy. What are you doing?”

  “Captain Hanson here,” Srak said slowly, “Has been telling us over and over again about how important this mission is. And I agree. We can't let that ship escape. If it does, the bad guys have won. We're going to have a galactic dictatorship.”

  Hanson turned slowly to face Srak. He looked over the giant barrel, down the scaled arm, to meet the gaze of a creature that could tear him in half without breaking a sweat. “I won't sacrifice a colony.”

  “You'd let people on the Afanc die so you can escape,” said Srak, “But you won't risk a human colony? Not even to stop these people becoming rulers of the entire galaxy?”

  “Not if there's another way,” said Hanson. “I had no choice on the Afanc. I do here.”

  “And what about you, Agatha?” said Srak. “You're human. What do you think?”

  “Oh, Christ, I don't know,” said Agatha. “I'm not the make-big-moral-choices type. You know that!” She pressed her lips together and exhaled through her nose. “But you see where my gun is pointed, Srak. You know where my loyalties lie.” She glanced at Hanson and gave him a what can you do? sort of expression. “Sorry, captain. I like you, but Srak's been on my side for as long as I can remember.”

  “What a comfort,” hissed Moore.

  “Well, then,” said Srak in a reasonable voice. “We seem to have a stalemate. Yilva?”

  Yilva was squeezing herself into a corner, ears flat against her skull and tail rigid.

  “Listen,” said Srak. “It's up to you.”

  Yilva looked from Hanson to
Srak several times. Outside, the last of the connections retracted from the ship. It began to hum as its engines spun up.

  She stepped away from the corner. “I … I'm sorry,” she said to Hanson. “He has a point. I think …”

  “Yilva, look,” said Hanson. “We can chase that ship. We know what they're up to. We –”

  At that point, the terminal went dark – and the guillotine barriers slammed shut with a bang, separating Hanson from the rest of the team.

  Hanson jumped back and looked around. The facility's lights dimmed around him, settling on the dull glow of backup power. And, on the far end of the corridor a Glaber stepped out of the lift, assault rifle trained on him.

  Chapter 47: Emergency Decompression

  The CIC rattled and shuddered again. One of the displays above the command console cracked and went dead.

  “All port laser turrets have gone,” reported Dunn. “Lidar tracking offline. We've lost one of Iona's defence satellites.”

  Lanik gripped the edge of the command console. On the remaining displays, he saw a firework display of exploding kinetics in the space between the two ships. “Status of the fire team?” he asked.

  “Team beta's down. We've got an explosion outside Yilva's quarters.”

  That's one dead Blank at least, Lanik thought.

  “They're retreating to the aft of the ship,” said Dunn.

  A second later another alarm called for Lanik's attention. He checked the displays above the command console: There had just been an explosive decompression on the aft of the ship. A few seconds later, automated systems sealed the area off.

  “Dunn?” he asked.

  “On it, sir.” He listened to a report from the fire team. “Targets have escaped,” he reported. “The Glaber hunter is pulling back.”

  The CIC rattled as the Glaber hunter managed one last successful hit.