Galactic Champion 2

by Dante King

  Another tremor rattled me against the walls. It only lasted a second, and I suspected some part of the hive had just broken away. I bolted, throwing caution to the wind.

  I emerged from the narrow hallway into the hangar and surprised a Xeno who looked like he’d been in the middle of sneaking up on my team when the Queen died. It looked at me stupidly but made no other gestures. I put it out of its misery by holding onto its head tight as I kicked its body, separating the two. No use taking a chance that it would somehow recover its wits.

  The hangar was a mess. Pools of acid slicked the floor, walls, and ceiling. Nyna was healing Beatrix from a nasty acid burn on her leg while Reaver provided cover. Skrew was busy shooting the stationary Xeno troops one at a time while he threw insults at them.

  “Status!” I ordered as I picked my way around and over the myriad of bug parts.

  The team looked up from what they were doing, relief evident in their eyes.

  As I approached, something about the alien vessel seemed familiar. It had huge armored plates covering its surface, much like the exoskeleton of the Xeno themselves. Its nose was round, and the last third branched into appendages similar to Xeno troop legs. Overall, though, the ship strongly resembled a squid. I didn’t have time to think about why exactly, but I suspected the similarity was not coincidental.

  “Everyone’s present and accounted for,” Reaver announced. “Skrew’s cleaning up the leftovers. Beatrix’s been injured—took two shots to the leg when she ran straight for them before they stopped moving. Nyna should have her fixed up quick.”

  “She’ll have to finish it on the ship,” I said. “Grab Skrew and get aboard. I’ll bring Nyna and Beatrix.”

  As if to amplify my urgency, a crack that sounded like a gunshot echoed through the large room, and we all ducked reflexively.

  Nyna scrambled to her feet, Beatrix a little slower. Another crack, this one duller and more hollow than the last, caused us to pause.

  Then, my ears popped.

  “Run!” I called out. “The hull’s about to—”

  The room exploded into a hurricane of wind and debris. The sound was like an enormous spectral wolf mourning the passing of the moon. I held on to Beatrix around her waist and dug my fingers into a slight divot the battle had created on the floor. There was some acid at the bottom, and I felt my fingers begin to burn, but I didn’t let go.

  A few seconds later, the wind stopped, and the howl that had accompanied it changed to a high-pitched whistle. I looked toward the breach and saw several Xeno bodies gathered and pinned to a section of the wall about a third of the way down the bulkhead.

  “They’ve sealed the breach!” I said. “It won’t last long! Keep moving!”

  Reaver reached Skrew, who’d kept himself from getting sucked out into space by grabbing a door frame on the far side of the hangar. She scooped him up under one arm and ran with him back toward the ship.

  I lifted the injured Beatrix, who grunted in pain, and brought her to the craft’s hatch. It was wide and tall enough for one of the Xeno troops to enter but nowhere large enough for the Queen to have escaped, even if her workers and troops hadn’t confined her to her quarters. It was a transport vessel, I decided. Probably for drones.

  Although it might have been as old as the rest of the ship, it looked like it was in good shape. I lifted Beatrix into its dimly lit cabin and turned to Reaver, who handed Skrew to me. He didn’t seem injured, so I wasn’t as gentle.

  Nyna was next, but just as I turned to find her, the breach the Xeno bodies had been plugging opened again. It was wider than before. The howling sound became a cacophony of noises as loose debris, Xeno bodies, and air rushed into the vacuum of space. I searched for Nyna as quickly as I could and found her half of the 90 feet toward the breach. She’d found a crack in the deck and was holding on for dear life. Her face was buried between her outstretched arms, and her short hair whipped viciously against her back.

  She couldn’t hold on for long, and the air wouldn’t last forever. I held on to a strut and looked to Reaver. Our expressions delivered an unspoken message. Mine, I’m sure, told her that I didn’t have a choice. I had to go rescue Nyna. I also hoped it told her that if I didn’t make it, she was to carry on with the mission in my stead.

  Ser expression told me she understood and respected my decision, but also that she feared for me.

  With just a curt nod to end our communication, I drew Ebon and drove its tip into the deck, but only about an inch. I reached out with my hand, being sure to keep the hilt pointed away from me so that the sword wouldn’t pull itself free from the floor. I couldn’t go too deep. Otherwise, I’d open a new breach right under my feet and end the mission for all of us. When I let go with my other hand, I began to slide—but too fast.

  I watched my approach to Nyna over my shoulder and added a bit more pressure to slow myself down. I wasn’t certain how thick the deck was, though, so I couldn’t do too much.

  A couple of seconds later, I’d cleared most of the distance, and I noticed the wind was beginning to slow. Soon, the entire volume of breathable air would have escaped into space. We’d be stuck in a vacuum, and we’d suffocate. Our frozen, bloated corpses would float between the stars for the rest of eternity. I couldn't let that happen.

  A moment later, I reached Nyna. As carefully as I could, I pried her hands from the deck and brought them to my Void-tech body armor. There weren’t any straps like the regular military used, but she was able to get what felt like a good grip around my collar. I started pushing forward, using Ebon like a walking stick with my other hand behind my back, holding on to Nyna in case she became exhausted and lost her grip.

  One slow step at a time brought me closer to the alien vessel. Then, my ears detected a new sound. It was a rumbling I could hear above the howl of the wind and that I could feel in my feet. I wasn’t sure what it meant until the wall at the far side of the hangar exploded and a huge shipping container headed right for me.

  I had to think fast. It was bouncing off the deck and moving too fast to get out of its way. It was also destroying huge chunks of the deck as it bounced along, which meant that sharp fragments from the floor would be dragged and flown along toward us. I wasn’t left with much of a choice, so I planted Ebon into the deck as far as I dared, wrapped a leg around the dull edge of my sword and balled my fist.

  Martian shipping containers were all designed the same way, regardless of their size. The edges, and especially the corners, were reinforced so that they could be stacked and, if necessary, rough-handled. I squinted through the cloud of debris headed at me, watched, and listened. As the container got closer, the debris became thicker, and I had trouble keeping my eyes open. I knew I’d have to make my next move blind, so I studied what I could see as best I could, what it sounded like, and predicted what would happen.

  I closed my eyes as shards of debris drew painful lines across my face, neck, arms, and legs. Nyna began to scream and lost her grip for a moment. I was glad I’d held on to her.

  BOOM! CRASH! SKREE! BOOM!

  I struck out with my right fist in an uppercut and made contact with what I hoped was the forward-facing edge of the cargo container. If I’d been wrong, I could have punched through the side. The container’s mass would have scooped Nyna and me into its belly and carried us to our doom.

  Although my shoulder went numb, and I discovered a whole new threshold of pain in my fist, we weren’t hit by anything larger than the debris from before. I opened my eyes and saw that the path before us was clear. I unhooked my leg and started moving again. Then, the cargo container hit the breach and opened it even wider. I dug Ebon further into the deck as the wind exploded in my face. For a moment, I thought I heard Nyna scream, but I couldn't be sure. Either way, all that mattered was getting to the ship before something bigger came along and knocked us loose, or before we ran out of air. Three agonizing steps later, we were there.

  I couldn’t hand Nyna to Reaver at the door, so I took a co
uple of extra steps and allowed the Marine to peel the priestess from my back. Then, she reached out and helped me into the vessel before slamming the hatch closed. The silence was only broken by Nyna’s gasping and my heavy breathing.

  Huge parts of the hive were smashing into each other. They were grinding each other to powder, and, if we didn’t hurry, we might find ourselves in the middle of one of those crashes.

  “We need to get out of here,” I said to Nyna.

  She nodded and tried to get to her hands and knees but collapsed back to the ship’s deck.

  “Let me help you,” Reaver said.

  She scooped her up and quickly walked her to the small bridge. There were two seats that were too big to be comfortable for most humans. I slowly made my way behind them.

  Skrew, meanwhile, was rocking back and forth on his rear, mumbling to himself about all the Xeno he never got to kill. He said something else to himself that led me to believe he’d managed to find one to test his rifle storage theory on. It hadn’t fit, and he was disappointed.

  Beatrix gave me a small smile but held her right calf gingerly with both hands. The flesh underneath was a mess, and I was certain I could see bone.

  “I need…” Nyna whispered, “interface.” She pointed at a spider-like claw hanging on the ceiling.

  Reaver frowned, poked it once, and when one of the thin legs twitched, flinched away. A second later, she tried again and attempted not to make a face as the little legs touched and examined her hands. When she placed the organic device on Nyna’s head, the legs settled in and stopped moving.

  “I can see the ship,” Nyna whispered. “Powering up now. This shouldn’t take long.”

  The ship shuddered a few times, then glowfrogs began to light up in the walls. They stretched like they’d been asleep and flickered a few times before they reached full brightness. A moment later, a low hum and pulsing beat told me the priestess was making progress.

  Then her seat—one of the two that had been designed for the big Xeno troops—began to move. It scraped along the deck, narrowed, and brought her closer to the controls. As she approached, she reached out with her hands and began touching different parts of a mostly featureless hemispherical protrusion from the wall. It was covered in hundreds of armored plates. Some were larger than others, and I wasn’t completely surprised when they pistoned slightly inward when she touched them.

  “Most of this is done with thoughts,” she said in a dreamy voice. “But some things have to be done with touch.”

  “Can you get us out of here?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “But I can’t command the plate armor to open and let us out. Only the Queen could do that. This ship has weapons, though. I can shoot our way out, but I don’t know where to shoot… whoa, uh-oh!

  We lurched into the air, then back down again almost hard enough to bounce us back up to the overhead..

  “Sorry,” Nyna said. “There was a big container headed straight for us. Had to get out of the way. I’ll see if I can keep everyone from bouncing around so that nobody gets hurt. I’ll strap you all in.”

  A second later, three flat, leathery tentacles reached out from our chairs. One ran across each shoulder down to a spot near our hips. The last ran across our waists. They were snug but didn’t hurt.

  “Shoot the breach behind us,” I said. “Widen it enough that we can escape into space before this whole place comes apart. Sooner would be better than later.”

  I wasn’t trying to be an asshole, but, well, it was urgent. Nyna tapped a few little plates, held another down for a second, and leaned back in her seat.

  “Everyone, hold on,” she warned. “I’m still new at this, and the only weapons this thing has are in the front. I’ll have to spin us around and shoot a whole bunch before we get to the opening.”

  “Skrew is no scary,” the vrak whispered. “Nyna makes the ships fly. Nyna is no to crash. Skrew is no such scary.”

  I wasn’t sure if Nyna had heard his comments or not, but I hoped she had. The vrak couldn't have paid her a better compliment.

  A moment later, I felt my body pressed to the floor again. I couldn't see outside; the Xeno had no need to install view ports. I had to use my perception and dead reckoning to guess what the ship might be doing. It was nerve-wracking, but Nyna was in control of the vessel. She could see everything, and it was likely that she could feel everything too. She’d interfaced with the vessel and had become one with it.

  We rotated for a moment, and the smooth ride suddenly became rough and bumpy. The wind was blowing at our backs, a direction the ship had not been designed to withstand for long. I imagined the tentacle-like legs being separated and whipped about as Nyna struggled to keep them together in an attempt to keep our wind profile low.

  Loud buzzing sounds announced that the weapons were firing, and I felt the ship slowly begin to accelerate. Nyna was facing away from me, so I couldn't see her face, but her head was bowed in concentration. She made little grunting noises as if the effort of keeping the ship straight was a physical strain on her, rather than only a mental one. Maybe it was. A moment later, there was a crash, and a crack formed near my feet.

  We pitched up, relative to gravity, then spun counter-clockwise. I braced myself against the bulkhead and overhead for support.

  “Skrew is not having the fun!” the vrak whined.

  The chaos continued for several seconds before the spinning, banking, braking, and accelerating ceased. The ship began a slow roll and seemed to straighten out.

  “We made it!” Nyna said. “Though it was a tight fit. Looks like we took a little damage. Don’t worry, though. I’ve got this.”

  She sat quietly for a few seconds, then announced, “Repair bugs on the way.

  “Damn, the hive is ugly. It looks like a handful of fried woodworms. Oh, shit, we got out just in time. I need to get us away from it so that we don’t get smashed. There are some big pieces coming off, and they blast away real fast, you know. And, I think I just saw the Queen go by. Did she have a really big ass? Like, ginormous?”

  “She did,” I said. “Ginormous and blubbery.”

  “Yup, then that was her. Ugly bitch. She looks kind of like a woodworm herself. Big nasty head and all.”

  A second later, little hatch-like armor plates on the overhead hinged open with a soft grinding sound. Then, a dozen of the little red bugs crawled out, formed a line, and traveled across the overhead, the bulkhead, then the deck and began repairing the crack.

  “See?” Nyna said with a deep yawn. “No problem. Damn, I’m tired.”

  “See?” Skrew said, crossing two pairs of arms as he beamed at Nyna. “Skrew knows. Skrew says Nyna can make the ship to do the fly and we don’t die. Is good, yes?”

  “It’s good, Skrew,” I said with a smile.

  Then, Beatrix moaned.

  “Here,” Nyna said as she removed her bag and held it out. “The healing rod is in here.”

  Reaper took the bag, fished the rod out of it, and got to work on Beatrix. She’d remained quiet since we’d brought her aboard the ship. Doing so had allowed us to focus on staying alive rather than focusing on trying to prevent her from feeling more pain than necessary. She’d done her part, and we owed her for being tough, even though her wound was horrible and would take a while to heal.

  “Nyna, can this ship land on Druma?” I asked. “Can it fly through atmosphere?”

  “Yeah,” she said and yawned again. “No problem. It can probably land anywhere, except maybe in a volcano, you know? I don’t think any ship could land in a volcano. Where do you want me to land?”

  “Take it to the Ish-Nul,” I said. “We need to let everyone there know what’s happened, and pick up Enra and Yaltu. Oh, and we should let them know Timo-Ran is now the mayor of Thaz’red.”

  “I can do that,” Nyna said, “but there’s something you should know, too. The ship has a lot of information. It knows a lot of stuff, and I can access all of it. I found some of your crew. Not everyone
made it, but some did. They’ve been shipped off to other planets. Looks like they were traded for new males—Xeno males.”

  “Drones,” I said.

  “Right, drones. I know where the planets are. I know where the Xeno Queen sent your people. They aren’t too far away, either, especially for this ship. The lot of us, flying this thing, we can save your crew.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  As we made our way back to the planet’s surface in a Xeno ship, I found myself sitting in the chair next to Nyna. She’d talked me into donning a spidery interface. I didn’t like the look of the thing or the idea that it was going to read my mind and insert images into it, but Nyna assured me that it was painless and harmless now that the Queen was gone. I trusted her and placed the twitching, spidery device on my head. Its legs had shuffled around for several seconds, either inspecting my brain or getting comfortable. Then, I had felt it reach out and touch my mind. The effect was instantaneous and wonderful.

  I could see through the ship as if it wasn’t even there. I could also feel it. I felt its heartbeat in time with the thrumming of what I’d thought were its engines. It was a living thing, and it had bonded with the priestess. It trusted her and obeyed her.

  I turned my head and saw Druma coming into view. It was a green and blue planet, with small polar ice caps. Most of the world appeared to be covered in forests and jungles, though there were great seas separating several land-masses. It didn’t look at all like the dry, red surface of home, but it was beautiful in its own way, much like Earth.

  I could see inside the ship as well. Skrew had found a soft cushion-like membrane in a small room. He’d curled up on top of it and appeared to be sound asleep. I guessed it had been a place for the drones to rest during their long journeys between Queens.

  Beatrix was in another room inspecting her leg, which Reaver had healed. The look on her face told me the pain she felt was still a fresh memory, one that might take a while to forget or set aside. But she was tough, and I had no doubt she’d push through it.