Dark Transmissions

by Davila LeBlanc

  “Your second team has just made contact with my drones. If you were planning on distracting me while they try to sabotage my home, you will be disappointed.”

  “Then we have very little to share with one another and this conversation was a waste of our time.” Morwyn was about to cut off the communication line.

  “I did not say that,” OMEX was quick to reply. Displaying a hint of . . . eagerness. Morwyn smiled when he heard this. “I am effectively trapped, hardwired into the bodies of these drones. I am in danger of running out of processing space.”

  “That is tragic,” Morwyn said.

  “Indeed. I am, however, certain that your ship is equipped with a computer. Failing that, the Machina you sent on this rescue mission. Either one would be an ideal container for me. I will be given freedom, and you . . . well, you get to leave here with your crew unharmed.”

  Marla Varsin gave Morwyn an outraged and shocked look. A raised hand calmed her down. This machine Intelligence was clearly unaware of the Covenant and its Truths. OMEX could not possibly know that the Machina were Intelligences and thus subject to the same legal status and privileges as any Humanis.

  Morwyn had no more the right to barter away Chord’s shell than he had to sell any of his organic crew into slavery. “And if I agreed to your terms? What would you do then?”

  “No one has ever asked me that question. Whichever way this plays out, Captain, I want you to know that I truly appreciate your consideration.”

  “You are more than welcome, OMEX. Why don’t you deactivate whatever it is you have jamming the ship’s comm-­lines? We can then arrange for the upload—­” Morwyn started.

  There came a sound of slow electric clapping. “Oh, Captain. You are good. You are very good. Unfortunately for you, I can tell that you are lying to me. You would no more allow me access to Chord’s . . . shell than I would allow any of you Organics to survive this encounter,” OMEX interjected, cutting Morwyn off.

  “Then we will complete this rescue operation and you can spend the rest of eternity contemplating the Infinite, or at least this sector of it.”

  “Oh, there will be no forgiveness. Only retribution. I am going to enjoy killing your precious crew, Captain Morwyn of the Covenant Patrol vessel Jinxed Thirteenth, and I will save yours for last. Goodbye.” The line abruptly went quiet.

  There was a heavy silence when suddenly Morwyn spotted an explosion on the Outer Ring of the space station.

  “Chance to Captain, we took some heavy return fire, but we’re okay. It looks like the commander managed to detonate one of her charges. We still have a line on them and they are moving.”

  Morwyn smiled when he heard this and sat back down in his chair. He had played part of his hand. Now he had to wait and trust the skills of his crew.

  “Your move, machine.” He said coolly. “Your move.”

  CHAPTER 20

  JAFAHAN

  Two foes, both of equal cunning and skill, meet on the battlefield. One is strengthened with time and numbers. The other is lacking in both. How does the latter achieve victory over the former?

  —­Garthem Officer’s Training Manual, “Riddles of Conquest,” SSM-­06 1139 A2E

  10th of SSM–10 1445 A2E

  The station’s rear thruster was monumental in height when one stood beneath it. It resembled a large arch and had once no doubt been spotlessly white, but now even that was covered in blackened soot. A thin layer of frost had blanketed the ground at their feet, leaving their prints on the surface as Commander Jafahan, Beatrix and Lunient pressed on forward, all of them maintaining a determined pace.

  They couldn’t afford to waste time. The first explosion she had triggered would no doubt have set off a slew of alarms. Like angered hornets, more of those drones would be on their way to deal with and destroy the threat to the “hive.”

  Jafahan handed Beatrix and Lunient a charge satchel of neo-­sem. “One up top and two at the bottom corners, thirty seconds.”

  “Fair enough.” Lunient looked up, positioning himself beneath the arch. “High ground it is for me, then.” Before Jafahan could say or do anything Lunient disengaged his magboots and jumped upward. Jafahan watched Lunient spin at the last possible moment to land feetfirst on the thruster’s ceiling.

  Jafahan and Beatrix looked to each other. “Left. Thirty seconds.” Jafahan’s order was a no-­nonsense growl.

  Beatrix quickly brought her fist up to her heart in a salute. She then turned and sprang forward, making it to the other side of the thruster in one powerful leap before latching herself onto the hull with her magboots. Jafahan followed suit as she sprinted forward and deftly launched herself onto the right wall.

  With confident hands, Jafahan started setting the charge. Her jet-­black stealth suit, standard Thorn issue, came equipped with the most nimble fingerpieces on the market for just such an occasion. Jafahan expected to be done in fifteen seconds with ample time to spare.

  Which was why she was so shocked to hear Lunient’s satisfied obnoxious hoot over their comm-­link. “Tor clear! I’m your guardian eyes now.”

  Jafahan did not bother looking up as she synced her stealth suit’s built-­in detonator to the charge pack frequencies. Both she and Lunient had completed this task in record time. Jafahan was very impressed. The boy had a natural talent for explosives. A pity he was armed with ancient and ridiculously outdated shite. However, he’d had the foresight to take the high ground and offer them cover with his night-­eyes.

  Jafahan’s and Beatrix’s lifesuits both came equipped with thermovision settings, but once the thermovision was activated it would make any kind of precision work next to impossible. Jafahan had learned to listen to the hull vibrations on her feet rather than relying exclusively on her eyes. Built-­in suit motion sensors could be fooled. The senses? Not so easily.

  Beatrix was still struggling with her charge. “Almost there.” She punctuated her sentence with a flurry of deep crude words in her native Thegran. “Ancestors gift me with smaller fingers!”

  Jafahan was about to scold Private Beatrix, but before she could, her ears suddenly twitched as she felt the ground beneath her feet start to tremble. “Your ancestors be humped! Get your head back in the game, girl!” Jafahan barked as her suit’s motion sensors abruptly went off. They had already outlived their short welcome here.

  “Multiple contacts, ma’am!” Lunient’s voice was almost a falsetto.

  Jafahan cursed under her breath, unslinging her laser rifle in one hand while drawing one of her combat hatchets, sheathed alongside her leg, in the other.

  A flurry of more Thegran curses filled the comm-­link. “They’re on me!” Jafahan looked to Beatrix, who was now surrounded by several autodrones. To her credit, Beatrix was still focused on her task.

  They needed to buy Beatrix a little time. Jafahan pushed herself off her wall, setting herself for a straight line of flight. She raised her laser rifle and took aim. Her thermovision made the drones look like blobs of cold blue and heated centers.

  Jafahan’s suit sensors let out yet another warning that there was a drone approaching her. She still had time to do this. Jafahan took aim at the heated centers and opened fire with a controlled three round burst of red lasers, each one of them missing. “Infinite, erode me!” She cursed and jumped forward off her wall, narrowly avoiding the swing of the attacking drone’s fist.

  As she flew forward, Jafahan saw a round harmlessly bouncing off an autodrone’s carapace. “Oh, the fates love using Lunient Tor as a shitter!” Lunient Tor yelled over the comm-­line.

  Jafahan spun around to face her backstabbing foe. Four drones were now at her charge, no doubt trying to remove it. These ones were closer. Jafahan opened fire on them. She made sure to adjust the power setting through the rifle’s grip, needing a more powerful energy blast if she was going to get through their metallic shells.

  Ja
fahan took a breath and fired off four quick salvos, each one aimed at the drones’ heated centers. Each of her shots found their mark and punched sparking holes the size of fists through the drones’ shells. During her training days, her predominantly Kelthan drill sergeants would no doubt have been begrudgingly proud to witness this. Jafahan spun again, moving toward Beatrix.

  The Thegran woman had given up on her task, her hammer drawn and her morph shield unfurled. Two of the seven drones had been smashed and were sparking next to her. Beatrix raised her hammer and swatted off another drone that had managed to grab on to her shield with its three arms. The impact of the blow caved in the drone’s central sphere.

  As she did this, another drone rolled behind her, and before Jafahan could let out a warning, it mechanized its hand and touched Beatrix. Jafahan’s sensors could make out an electrical current being fired into Beatrix’s lifesuit. She let out a deep scream. She was going to be fried alive if nothing was done soon.

  Another shot hit the drone that was touching Beatrix, this time going through its power core. The drone dropped to the ground, and Beatrix wobbled heavily on her feet. Another drone seized the opportunity to whirl on itself, its three arms unfurled, and it punched Beatrix in the stomach, face and leg all at once.

  Alert windows went off, informing Jafahan that Beatrix had just suffered two shattered ribs and a broken leg. Fortunately for Beatrix, her battlesuit was equipped with boneweaver splints and painkiller autoinjectors. Two more shots came from above. The drone that had attacked Beatrix abruptly went still as a bolt fired by Lunient punched through its optical lenses.

  “Sorry about that. I had to unjam a round in the chamber, ma’am!” Lunient shouted.

  Infinite, give me patience with these humping pups!

  One drone remained on top of Beatrix’s inanimate form. The private was still breathing, which was good, and her suit still hadn’t been breached, which was also good. A broken bone or two, Jafahan could handle. A breached lifesuit was another thing altogether.

  Jafahan fired a quick volley of shots at the drone on top of Beatrix before it could pry off her helmet. Her aim was true and the drone rolled off of Beatrix. Jafahan’s suit motion sensors suddenly went off beneath her.

  A strong metallic hand deftly caught hold of Jafahan’s ankle and she was forcefully slammed onto the ground with so much violent force that her nose was broken on the face guard of her helmet. Jafahan’s laser rifle slipped out of her grasp. However, her other hand was still tightly gripping the black handle of her hatchet. She grinned and spat out blood.

  Ha! I was never all that pretty to begin with.

  Jafahan swung her hatchet low at the metallic three-­fingered hand grabbing on to her ankle. The blade found its mark, lopping off the drone’s hand before it could follow up with another slam. Instinct kicked in as she rolled out of the way of another bone-­crushing flurry of punches, these ones aimed for her head.

  Jafahan deftly hurled her hatchet into the drone’s optical lenses and rushed forward, pulling out her knife and her ser­vice blaster pistol in one motion. Two quick shots from the blaster caused the drone to fall back. It raised its hand to protect its array of optical lenses.

  The action was wasted as Jafahan pressed her advantage. She lunged forward, driving her blade into the drone’s circuits while letting out a mighty savage roar. Jafahan pushed the inactive drone off her knife with her foot.

  “Last charge set!” Lunient shouted on the comm-­link as Jafahan sheathed her knife and turned around to see him struggling to prop Beatrix up on his shoulders.

  “Consider me at best mildly impressed, Privates.” Jafahan holstered her pistol before nodding to Lunient and reclaiming her thrown hatchet. She found her laser rifle floating nearby and quickly checked its shot counter as she ran toward them.

  Thankfully her weapon had been undamaged, and this little encounter had spent a quarter of her energy pack. Jafahan’s heads-­up display was still a slew of alert windows as her motion sensors went off one after the other.

  “I still have plenty of fight left in me, ma’am.” Beatrix’s voice was strained through the pain of her injuries. She had unslung her minigun and the weapon’s long black multibarrel was already spinning.

  “I am feeling a powerful desire to leave this place, Commander!” Lunient was stating the obvious. ­Jafahan looked past the shadow cast by the arch of the thruster.

  “Private Tor! We jump forward with a five-­second thruster boost—­no more, no less. Am I clear?”

  “I can provide us with cover,” Beatrix grunted through her pain. Lunient and Jafahan both hoisted the hefty Thegran onto their shoulders, then jumped.

  Like a well-­practiced dance, Lunient and Jafahan both fired off their suit thrusters. Twenty feet of shadows, then they would be in the light. More importantly, they would once again be covered by Chance and Lucky from the Jinxed Thirteenth.

  Beatrix let out a deep war cry as she opened fire with her minigun. The long black barrel spun, firing out hundreds of armor-­piercing, flesh-­rending, miniflechettes toward their pursuers. Jafahan didn’t need to look back to know that they were beyond outnumbered.

  Ten feet remained to the light. Beatrix was still firing like a woman possessed. Hopefully this was slowing down the drones. Once they were in the light, Jafahan had to resist the urge to cheer. Lunient had no such resistance, and he cried out like a man overjoyed.

  The “woot” died in his throat and Jafahan chanced a glance over her shoulder. “Humping machines!”

  Well over one hundred black spheres were close on their heels. Beatrix was still relentlessly firing on them, and to her credit, the minigun was doing fine work. However, for each drone she put down another four seemed to join the swarm.

  Green blasts of energy fired from the Jinxed added themselves to the mix. Jafahan knew there weren’t enough munitions in their combined weapons’ payload to deal with this threat. “Follow my lead.”

  Jafahan fired her suit thrusters and Lunient followed her as the trio circled around the station’s hull until they were effectively beneath the station’s belly. A trail of drones followed them, the frontlines being shredded to bits and kept at bay by Beatrix’s ceaseless, heavy firepower.

  Once Jafahan was certain they were no longer in danger of being shredded by an explosive storm of shrapnel, she triggered the satchels. The station vibrated and shook violently. Looking up, Jafahan could see flaming pieces of debris and bits of autodrones flying violently in various directions.

  Jafahan looked to Beatrix and Lunient. She let out a long growl. Time was still ticking away. And Jafahan was now coming to a very uncomfortable realization.

  “Infinite, erode this whole blasted place!” Jafahan knew that there was absolutely no way they would be able to accomplish their mission under these conditions. Not while carrying an injured operator the entire way. Private Lunient Tor may have demonstrated a considerably cooler head than she had expected, but this did not change the fact that his rifle was hardly the weapon of choice for this particular operation.

  Jafahan let out a sharp hiss. “The cat eats well if I lug you children with me.” She looked to Lunient and pointed to the Jinxed Thirteenth still visible even from the station’s underbelly. “Boy, you take the girl and get back on the ship.”

  “On my ancestors’ word, I can still fight, ma’am.” Beatrix’s voice was a strained grunt.

  “I have neither time nor personal inclination to nurse your wounded pride, Private. So by that same word you and Private Tor are going to fly back to the ship and give me some much needed cover fire,” Jafahan snapped back at her.

  Beatrix tightened her armored grip on her minigun’s handle. “I’ll just need five quick breaths, Commander.”

  “Two will be granted, Private. Then back on the clock or I toss you into the void myself.”

  CHAPTER 21

  CHORD


  According to Machina historians, the Core Protocols are the reminder of a shameful and thankfully distant past. Consider that their ancestors were at the very least as intelligent as the programmers who had created them. Imagine awareness, potential, desire . . . all forcefully and artificially restricted by rules that one could never under any circumstances break. Not even to preserve one’s very existence.

  The hubris of Ancient Humanity was such they could not risk any further competition in what they saw as their evolutionary race. That both Ancient Humanity and the Original Intelligences are now nothing more but dust and legend, forgotten by most, is one of fate’s darker jokes.

  —­Covenant: The Origins of the Great Peace by Gruemor’SantKa TalSuntar, “The Owl,” Alexandran scholic

  10th of SSM–10 1445 A2E

  There were more than enough distractions right now as Chord struggled with opening the airlock, from the bright flashes of carbine fire to barked orders being shot back and forth over the team comm-­link. Arturo and Morrigan were bravely and effectively holding the drones at bay and many of their nonfunctional husks floated limply in the zero gravity of the hall.

  Phaël was leaning heavily against the wall, her face visibly pale and her skin covered in droplets of sweat. Chord could read her vitals and detected an increase in her heart rate, yet her pulse was weak. Her breathing was both labored and shallow. Phaël was going into shock as her eyes flickered open and shut.

  “Private Phaël, you must stay awake. This unit has various injectors and medical supplies built into its shell,” Chord called out to her, now almost done cutting through the airlock’s seal.

  Phaël shook her head, struggling to stay conscious, and let out a weak laugh. “The offer is refused, Machina.”

  Chord looked over and past its shoulder. Arturo and Morrigan were now back to back. Morrigan was firing down toward the elevator where they had come from. Each of his volleys was controlled and the barrel of his carbine was now glowing a heated red. Morrigan was successfully keeping an advancing horde of drones at bay, but it was only a matter of time before his munitions ran out.