by I G Hulme
Ryann looked up towards the control tower with a grimace.
“Better get a move on then,” he muttered, pulling himself up to his feet. He swayed as a wave of nausea washed over him, and he grabbed hold of the handrail. The walkway was perhaps a hundred metres above the hangar floor, and he had a moment of dizziness as he stared down over the railing.
“Are you sure you can make it?” asked Eve in concern, stepping forward. Ryann nodded, waving her on.
“You set off, I’ll follow on as best I can,” he gasped. “Go on.”
But Eve remained where she was.
“I don’t think I should leave you,” she said softly. “ I don’t want to.”
“I’ll only slow you down,” he replied with a weary smile. “But don’t worry, I’m okay.”
With a last, mistrustful look, Eve nodded, then turned back to the ladder, setting off into its darkened heights.
Ryann went to follow her, then stopped dead as the faintest sound of movement echoed along a darkened corridor that led off from the walkway.
He looked desperately to the ladder, but there was no time. A harsh light burst out of the darkness as a hatchway way flew open at the end of the corridor with a deep boom. And then, silhouetted in the doorway were the shapes of six figures. Ryann didn’t even have time to reach for his gun before the group was marching forwards, each with a rifle aimed directly at him. He glanced up into the shadows to where Eve was halfway up the ladder. She went to climb back down to join him, but Ryann gave her a subtle shake of his head as he raised his arms in surrender.
As the figures approached, his heart sank; he could see that they weren’t the same ill-formed drones he had so far encountered. Each of them was dressed in a suit of military-spec powered armour. Even if he could get a shot off at one of them, there was little chance it would penetrate those thick plates of ceramic-polymer. There seemed no chance of escape.
As the group came closer he called out hopelessly, “Don’t shoot! I surrender!”
The figures came to a halt a couple of metres away from him, appraising him in silence. Ryann scanned the group nervously.
They each wore similar suits, but they had been modified in some way to their own requirements — extra ammo packs, pouches or sheathed blades, clusters of grenades — it was obvious that the team were veteran fighters. One figure at the back of the group appeared to be a medic with a foldable stretcher strapped to his backpack.
Ryann was surprised to see that the lead man’s armour shifted subtly in colour, reacting to his surroundings, matching the tones of the environment.
Stepping forwards, the man slung his heavy gauss rifle under his arm, then reached up to a panel upon the side of his helmet. Instantly, the matt black visor faded to transparent.
Ryann found himself face-to-face with his father.
“What the hell happened Ryann?” asked Grayell, the relief heavy in his voice. He reached out his arms, pulling his son to him in a rough embrace. “How in hell did you get over here? Were you taken by the Lumina? We tracked your suit leaving the Defiance then lost your signal. It was only when we got aboard here that we managed to pick you up again.”
Grayell stepped back, staring at his son with a wide grin upon his face.
“Never mind, you can tell me all about it when we get you back to the Defiance. Anders is holding for us a little way off the derelict in the Marianne. As soon as we get back to the edge of the structure we’ll call him in — there’s no comms signal this deep inside.” He grinned again, slapping Ryann upon the shoulder. “You’re making a habit of this disappearing act son. But I’m just glad to see you.”
He stopped abruptly, stepping back and raising his rifle in alarm. The rest of the team did likewise, aiming their weapons past Ryann towards the shadows.
“Don’t shoot! Dad! Put your guns down! She’s a friendly!”
At Ryann’s insistence, the team slowly lowered their weapons.
“I’m coming out,” came Eve’s nervous voice from the darkness. “I’m unarmed.”
As Eve stepped into the light, Grayell’s expression turned to one of shock and he raised his rifle, taking aim once more.
“Hey, Dad! It’s okay!” exclaimed Ryann, stepping in front of Eve.
“What the hell is this?” spat Grayell. “Ryann, step aside!”
“It’s okay Dad, she’s friendly! She was a prisoner — taken by the Lumina. She escaped when the ship broke up. Dad, please!”
There was a tense moment’s stand-off, before Grayell eventually relaxed a little, lowering his weapon. He motioned to the rest of his team and they followed.
“Ryann, what’s going on?” asked Grayell, his eyes never leaving Eve.
“Like I said Dad, she was a prisoner,” he repeated. “She signalled to me for help. She saved me from — well, from some pretty crazy stuff. There’s a whole army of drones out hunting for us.”
“Can’t she speak for herself?” asked Grayell in a gruff voice, his eyes never leaving her as she stepped nervously up to Ryann’s side.
“My name’s Eve. I was first-officer on a ship captured by the Lumina. Your son helped me. He said that you could get me off to safety.”
Grayell shifted his rifle in his hands, muttering, “That flight suit you’re wearing — the design must be thirty years old. What ship were you first-officer on? Why have you taken off your ID patches?”
Eve glanced down in confusion at the faded marks on her suit.
“The Lumina took them off when they captured me,” she replied hesitantly. “What’s that got to do with anything? Look, there are about a hundred drones out looking for us — any chance we can we do this interrogation back on your ship?”
Grayell seemed to be struggling to come to a decision. He glanced back to his men before letting out a muttered oath and gave a curt nod.
“Okay then, get ready to move out. We’ll retrace our steps back to the extraction point.”
“His suit’s leaking — he needs help.”
Eve’s nervous voice made Grayell turn around and he looked to his son in concern.
“It got melted,” sighed Ryann, holding out his arm.
“Dane, see if you can patch him up,” muttered Grayell, and the medic came forward. As he went to work on changing out the air tanks on Ryann’s suit Grayell continued to stare mistrustfully at Eve. Ryann went to speak, but he was too weary.
“We done?” asked Grayell as the medic stepped back.
“I’ve flushed the coolant out of his suit and recharged the tanks,” replied the medic. “It’ll keep him good for a few hours.”
“Well I’m aiming to be off this wreck well before that,” muttered Grayell, looking out over the hangar in disgust. “We’ve wasted too much time already. Okay, everybody move out.”
Ryann sighed with relief as the rest of the search team took up their positions: two scouting on ahead, two in front, and two waiting for Grayell.
“You — up ahead of me,” he barked, motioning with his head to Eve. She stepped forwards, glancing fearfully up to Ryann as she passed. Ryann went to follow, but Grayell intervened.
“What’s going on Ryann?” he asked coldly when Eve was out of earshot. Ryann felt a familiar surge of anger welling up inside.
“I’ll walk with Eve,” he replied firmly and pushed past his father, hurrying to catch her up. He glanced back and saw the last two members of the search team fall in behind, their rifles held up in readiness.
But his father remained motionless, staring intently after them. And then, he reached up to his helmet and the visor faded to black and his face was hidden once again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
AWAKENING
The search team made its cautious progress through the darkened corridors, following a trail of electronic markers they had dropped on their way into the derelict. They walked in silence, Ryann and Eve together, the rest of the team spread out in front and behind.
As they emerged into another wrecked hall, the lea
d scout came to a sudden halt, dropping to one knee, his arm raised in warning.
Ryann quickly took cover behind a fallen girder. He strained to hear anything in the ghostly stillness. At first he thought it a trick of his eyes in the dim light, but then he began to make out an intermittent flicker playing out over the blackened walls. He jumped as a hollow boom echoed out from somewhere in the shadows of the distant walls beyond.
A subterranean shudder ran through the derelict ship and Ryann turned to Eve in alarm.
“It feels like the ship is waking up,” she breathed nervously.
“What the hell does that mean?”
Grayell’s rough voice behind them made Ryann look around with a start. He was crouching in cover a little way off, and Ryann was surprised at how his father had moved so quietly in the heavy bulk of his armour.
“Eve said that the Hive Queen is pouring energy into the ship, even though it’s practically dead. She’s trying to keep it alive,” murmured Ryann as another boom rang out in the distance, only to be quickly followed by another. Grayell shot Eve a look of barely-concealed contempt.
“Is that true? Can she do that?” he demanded.
Eve shrugged nervously.
Grayell cursed and brought up a schematic on the display of his wrist-pack, studying it in concern.
“We’ve still got a way to go before we make it to the extraction point. Almost an hour if —”
His voice was cut off as a loud crash echoed across the hall. With a screech of metal, they watched in alarm as the blast door that they were making for slid closed.
“Beck, Maguire! Back here quick!” hissed Grayell, raising his rifle as he scanned the dark corners of the hall. “Everyone, back into the corridor!”
He pulled Ryann up to his feet and they ran for the door through which they had entered, Eve following close behind. To his horror, Ryann heard the boom of the blast door as it began to slide shut.
Five of the six team members, plus Ryann and Angelique made it back into the corridor, slipping through the narrow gap as the heavy door was closing. But to their dismay, Maguire, the solider that had been at the head of the group wasn’t quick enough.
They had a brief glimpse of the man through the gap before the door slid shut with a hollow boom.
The team waited in nervous anticipation as the sound echoed off into silence.
“Aw spatz!” cursed Grayell, striding up to the blast door and kicking it angrily. “Beck, see if you can get this open! Maguire, do you read me? Just hang tight and we’ll get to you. Maguire? Can you hear me?”
He sprang back in alarm as a sudden flash of electricity played out over the blast door. Ryann shielded his eyes from the glare.
As the sparks coruscated up and down the walls the sound of gunfire broke out beyond the door.
“Maguire! Maguire, what’s going on in there? Do you read me?” called Grayell into his comms.
And then the gunfire suddenly ceased and a chill scream rang out, a terrible wail of agony that seemed to drag on and on before being abruptly cut off.
The light went out in an instant and all was deathly silent.
Ryann looked to his father in disbelief and then turned back to the doorway. Where its surface had been blackened and scorched a moment before, now the door was pristine, as though it had been newly constructed.
“What the hell is this place?” Ryann heard Beck murmur.
The group took a step back in alarm as the door slid open with a soft hiss.
A little way off lay Maguire. His armoured suit was scorched, and wisps of smoke curled lazily around as it cooled.
For a moment, they all stood looking on in horror.
Grayell was the first to move. He ran forward, turning Maguire’s body over in his arms. But it was no use, it was obvious that they were too late.
As Ryann cautiously entered the hall, the far door slid ominously open. He raised his rifle but the corridor beyond was empty.
“What killed him?” asked Eve quietly, looking down at the spend bullet cases that lay all around Maguire’s body.
“Looks like he loosed off a couple of mags and hit nothing,” murmured Ryann.
“Collect up any extra ammo you can carry,” called Grayell, his voice shaking. “We’re going to need everything we’ve got.”
He pulled himself up to his feet and headed for the door, muttering, “We need to keep moving.”
“We can’t leave him behind sir,” croaked Dane.
“You know the terrain we had to traverse to get here,” replied Grayell in a leaden voice. “There’s no way we can carry him back down to the extraction point. I’m sorry. Now stock up on what you can. Beck, you’re on point.”
Ryann stepped forward hesitantly, reaching down for Maguire’s backpack.
“Leave that,” came a gruff voice from beside him as one of the soldiers, Garcia, pushed past him. “You don’t get nothing of his.”
He gave Ryann a look of barely-concealed contempt before kneeling down beside Maguire’s body. He began to carefully remove the magazines from the dead man’s ammo pouches.
“We should never have been in this madhouse in the first place if it weren’t for you,” Ryann heard Garcia curse under his breath. “It’s your fault Maguire’s dead.”
Ryann went to speak, but then turned his face away. The rest of the team were all looking accusingly towards him. He glanced across to his father who had stopped by the doorway. For a second he thought he caught that same look in the old man’s eye.
“Beck!” called out his father at last. “It’s a long way back to the extraction point. And we don’t know what this crazy ship has planned for us. Stay focussed.”
The team filed past Ryann without giving him a second glance. He turned to Eve and he could see the sadness in her eyes.
“Come on,” breathed Eve, and followed the line of soldiers towards the doorway. Ryann looked up to see his father still staring silently at him. As Eve passed, he fell into line behind her.
Ryann looked down disconsolately to Maguire’s burned body. With a heavy sigh he followed the team out of the hall.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
THE BRIDGE
“I don’t like the look of it sir.”
“What is there to like in the whole of this damn freak show of a ship?” cursed Grayell morosely. The two men ducked back around the corner to where the rest of the team waited.
They had been travelling for about half an hour now, traversing the burned-out corridors back down from the highest levels. Increasingly, they had heard sounds echoing up through the wreckage — distant booms as though things unseen moved within the heart of the derelict.
As Eve had said, it felt as though the ship were slowly reawakening.
The team had now come to a halt upon finding themselves in an open shaft that disappeared down into unseen depths. To Ryann’s concern, he recognised it as the same shaft where he had first encountered the Hive Queen.
A slender walkway stretched across the gulf. It looked in a dangerous condition, having been struck by falling wreckage during the crash. The handrail had been mostly sheared away, and in places there were holes in the walkway itself.
“You came across that?” asked Ryann, peering down into the darkness.
“We did, but it was in a better state then,” murmured Grayell, deep in thought. “Looks like some more wreckage has come down since we crossed.”
“Could we try and find another way around?”
Grayell shook his head wearily.
“No, it’s the quickest route back to the extraction point. It could take us hours to find another way. No, we go across.”
“I’ll go first,” said Ryann, stepping up to the bridge ahead of his father. Grayell shook his head, pulling him back.
“No, you’re unarmoured; we don’t know if there’s anything on the other side.”
“But that’s exactly why I should go,” replied Ryann. “Look at the state of the bridge — that exo-armour you’re
wearing must weigh a ton.”
Grayell seemed lost in indecision for a moment.
“I’ll go.”
Eve’s voice was nervous as she stepped forwards.
“It makes sense, I weigh the least of any of you.”
“No, Eve, it’s okay. I’ll do it,” said Ryann hurriedly.
“No, let me,” said Eve, looking across to Grayell. He stared intently at her for a brief moment before giving her a curt nod.
“I’ll be watching you,” he muttered, patting the sights on his rifle.
Eve stepped forwards, placing a foot tentatively upon the buckled metal of the bridge. A low groan and a shudder ran through the structure, and Ryann looked up into the darkened heights of the shaft as a fine rain of dust fell down from the twisted wreckage above.
“It’s not safe,” breathed Ryann in concern, as he watched Eve step out further on to the bridge.
“Let her go,” growled his father, his eyes never leaving her.
Ryann’s heart was in his mouth as he willed her onward. He could see the bridge sway as she reached the centre. She held on to the remnants of the buckled handrail, catching her breath as she neared one of the rents in the floor.
“Careful,” whispered Ryann to himself, watching impotently as she skirted the hole.
He jumped as she caught a loose piece of metal with her foot, sending it sliding over the edge. Ryann followed the metal with his eyes as it tumbled down to be lost in the darkness below. They waited in strained silence, until eventually a distant crash echoed up from below.
Ryann stared out across the gulf. Eve had skirted the rent in the floor and was stepping lightly across the final few metres. With a great sigh of relief, Ryann saw her make the safety of the other side. She turned, waving back across to them.
“Seems safe enough.”
Ryann smiled to hear her breathless gasp in his earpiece.
“Guess that means it’s my turn,” he muttered and stepped out on to the bridge. He staggered a little as the structure swayed beneath his feet, and for a moment almost lost his balance. He took hold of what remained of the handrail, but to his horror felt give way in his hand. He let go of it and the rail slowly fell away with a sickening crash.
