Space Cruiser Musashi: a space opera novel

by Dean Chalmers

  The marines split into two teams. One team, made up of three of the Drones, headed to the left. Kane and Molokos, meanwhile, headed off to the right, leading their team around some rocky spires.

  Meanwhile, Brattain held her position by the ship. Reynard, Cruz, and their sensor tech held the remaining slugthrowers.

  She smiled at them, trying to summon up some supernatural ability inside her to inspire them, console them. She wasn’t really sure what she was doing, but she did have confidence in them now.

  Reynard glanced past her, though, and his eyes narrowed.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Valorian?” he said.

  Xon approached from behind them, holding a slugthrower.

  “We can’t choose our heritage,” he said. “But we can choose who we fight for.”

  His eyes peered at Brattain from under his bushy brows, seeking something…

  Forgiveness? Affirmation?

  Brattain nodded at him.

  I trust him, she thought. That’s my call.

  “Take up positions,” she said to the others.

  24

  Kane, Molokos, and their small team of Drone marines crouched behind a ridge. In the distance, the skin of the now-landed Valorian vessel bubbled, and white figures emerged, seeming to pass through the black membrane of the ship’s hull.

  Kane hit a button on his suit. A small object emerged from a shoulder pad where a hidden pouch had opened: a pair of goggles.

  As he pulled them out, he tugged on them, and the nano-compressed goggles expanded to their normal dimensions. He put them on his face and gazed toward the Valorians. The goggles gave him a magnified view of their enemy.

  “What are they doing?” Molokos asked.

  Kane watched as, one by one, the trio dropped to their knees, crossing themselves like ancient crusader knights.

  “They’re praying, I think,” Kane said.

  Molokos grunted in derision. “Would your samurai say it’s dishonorable to fire first?”

  “I’m not sure,” Kane replied. “But I’ll gladly trade honor for lives.”

  Molokos spoke into his comm, addressing both squads of marines. “Plasmas. Fire at will.”

  Further down the trench, the Valorians gazed around, scanning their environment. Then they began their march toward the wrecked Musashi.

  Molokos and his marines fired plasma bolts down at them. The other marine squad on the opposite ridge did likewise.

  Like water sprayed on glass, the beams hit a field cast by the armored giants. Kane wasn’t sure if it was some aspect of their psionic abilities, or a feature of their armored suits—but they were easily able to repel the plasma streams.

  The trio of Valorians paused, arms outstretched, seeking their foes. Then, from the gauntlet of each one surged energy like a ball of lightning, similar to the missiles that had been fired from their ship. The energy spheres shot out, spinning in air.

  Rocky spires to either side of where Molokos, Kane, and the marines were crouched shattered and exploded when struck. Kane raised his hand, trying to shield himself from the debris.

  “Squad two reports one casualty,” Molokos reported grimly.

  Kane watched as the Valorians strode forward once again. Under his breath he whispered, “That’s right, we’re obviously no threat to you… None at all.”

  To Molokos he said, “Ready the sonics.”

  Forgive me, Commander Brattain, he thought.

  He’d told her that they’d taken slugthrowers with them, but in truth, there’d only been five of those simple weapons available on the ship. That, and Kane’s own sidearm.

  The case which Molokos had taken with him to divvy up the weapons between his marines had contained only sonic rifles. Now they drew these, holding them up, the long, cone-like barrels ending in concave discs from which sonic beams would be generated.

  Kane wasn’t really expecting these to work, either, but it was worth a shot.

  In truth, the marines were a distraction. Brattain’s group, with their slugthrowers, might perhaps be the only ones with a real chance to stop the enemy. She didn’t know it, though—which meant if the enemy probed her mind, they wouldn't know it, either.

  Kane hated the lie, and hated having to make the gambit.

  But in the clarity of the moment, seeking the truth in the Void, the strategy had crystallized for him… and in that moment he’d known that he’d have to chance it.

  #

  Back by the ship, Brattain and the others waited.

  Brattain’s heart pounded. She’d had training for situations like this back at the Academy, but hadn’t expected to use it. She’d never even wanted to think about a situation where she’d be so desperate as to have her and her people’s feet on the ground, defending themselves with hand weapons.

  And yet here she was.

  “They’re almost in range,” Reynard said, staring down the sight of his own rifle.

  “Commander,” Xon said, “I’d recommend firing at the first opportunity.”

  Cruz looked up at him curiously, shaking her cobalt locks. “Never pegged you as the bloodthirsty type, Doc,” she said.

  He simply shrugged. “I know what we’re up against, that’s all.”

  “No,” Brattain said, “We follow the Captain’s orders. Wait.”

  Let them get close enough, Brattain thought. Let them think that the marine squads are all the defense we have.

  But when were Kane’s and Molokos’ crews going to break out their own slugthrowers?

  In this time of urgency, everything seemed to be moving too slowly for her.

  At least, she thought, the decision’s not mine to make this time.

  I’m just following orders. That’s what I’m good at, right?

  #

  The Valorians continued their relentless stride towards the Musashi, moving quickly on their long, armored legs.

  Kane watched as the two surviving marines from the other squad came down from the ridge to block their path. Behind them, Kane and Molokos’ own team with the remainder of the marines, all carrying sonics, cut off the Valorian’s retreat.

  Well, that’s how it’s supposed to work, Kane thought. In theory, anyway…

  Suddenly, the Valorians stopped moving. Two of the armored giants bent down, each going down to one knee. One of them faced Kane and Molokos’ squad… and the other faced the remaining two marines.

  Meanwhile, the third Valorian, left standing, pulled an object from his armor.

  Kane had a dire feeling that he knew what the object was. It appeared to be a disc—like the one that had previously been used to render the hull of the Musashi from the inside.

  The Valorians seemed to be chanting. The tone was deep, reverberating… inhuman. Like the vocalization of two dozen monks, but turned down in pitch.

  Molokos and his marines fired their sonics, and the other two marines in front of the Valorians did likewise…

  But the weapons were completely ineffective.

  Kane could see ripples in the air in front of the Valorians—as if they’d created some sort of sonic bubble with their chanting to repel the sonic weapons.

  Then, the standing Valorian threw his disc.

  It hit the ground near the two marines from the other squad. Blue-white lightning bolts crackled from the object, striking the marines. They both fell to the ground, twitching, thrashing about in the black dirt.

  Kane could feel the blood draining from his face.

  “Sonics are ineffective,” Molokos announced.

  “We have other options,” Kane said.

  He drew his pistol and fired.

  It had been a long time since he’d fired one of the primitive slugthrowers. The first shot went wide. The second grazed the shoulder of the standing Valorian.

  Had he struck him? He thought maybe he’d taken a chunk out of the armor, but it was far from a direct hit.

  Now, the other two Valorians were standing again, turning their attentions towar
ds the Musashi where Brattain and the others waited in ambush.

  Kane sheathed his pistol and drew his katana. The plasteel blade had a monomolecular edge… That would be something these bastards hadn’t counted on. An unconventional weapon in this day and age—but he knew how to fight with it.

  “Charge!” Kane yelled.

  Like attack dogs unleashed, Molokos and the remaining marines rushed forward…

  25

  Back by the ship, Reynard was growing impatient. “Permission to fire, Sir,” he asked Brattain.

  “I haven’t—”

  She tried to reach the Captain on the comm. “Captain, Captain, do you…?”

  Damn it! Supposed to wait for the order, but this time… This time I’ve got to act, she thought.

  They’re getting too close—too damn close.

  Echoing her unspoken sentiments, Xon cried: “This is our last chance! Let them get any closer and they can get into our minds. We won’t even be able to fight them.”

  Brattain looked to where Kane, Molokos, and the other three marines charged the oncoming Valorians from behind.

  The Valorians turned, extending their gauntlets. The marines seized up, screaming, falling to the ground.

  Both Kane and Molokos staggered, and fell to their knees.

  “No!” Brattain shouted.

  There was a deafening staccato burst of noise—and it took Brattain a moment to figure out what had happened.

  Xon had fired his rifle. But he’d missed, the weapon jerking up in his grasp.

  Cruz shook her head. “Gotta watch that recoil, Doc.”

  Then she, too, opened fire. The middle Valorian was turned towards Kane and the others; Cruz hit him squarely in his back, shredding and cracking the bony plates of his armor, an amber fluid gushing from the holes.

  Another one of the Valorians turned towards Brattain…

  He raised his gauntlet directly towards where she, Cruz, Reynard and Xon were standing.

  Reynard was the first to feel the psionic attack. He went to his knees, setting down his weapon, slapping himself…

  “Get it off me! What? I’m burning! Damnit! I’m on fire! Help me! Help I’m, no, please…” He moaned and collapsed with his face in the dirt.

  Cruz then dropped to the ground suddenly, thrashing and screaming incoherently.

  By that point, Brattain herself could feel it.

  At first, it was like a million fiery insects crawling over every inch of her flesh. Then it was like acid pouring into her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears… flowing into her bloodstream, pumping into her heart, and finally, into her mind. Although all of this only took a second or so, it seemed like a painful eternity of agony.

  The flame pulsed through her body. Every neuron, every speck of her consciousness was consumed by pain.

  She tried to raise her gun, aim at the Valorian who was doing this to them…

  But the weapon fell from her spasming fingers, clattering to the ground.

  She fell to her knees and began to sob.

  Not like this, she thought, Not like this. Pain! No can’t—need to fight—if I’m going to—

  If this is it—going to go out—fighting.

  On the dim periphery of her flaming consciousness, she noted that Xon was still standing.

  He fired off a few shots from his own rifle, before he too fell, collapsing… silent.

  #

  Harrison Kane had known much pain in his life. There were the physical pains of war wounds, yes… But also the psychic pains of those he had lost. Family, friends, comrades. So many taken too soon.

  The Way of the Void had always helped him to focus, to continue to move onward, strive with clarity for what was right.

  Now, down on his knees in the gravel of a strange moon, with a giant armored Valorian in front of him, trying to burn his mind from the inside…

  The Void was all that Captain Kane had left.

  He squeezed his eyes shut, ground his teeth, and meditated.

  Polish the blades of hardened mind. Sharpen the swords of perception and sight.

  The Void.

  Emptiness. Clarity.

  Nothing else. Nothing else.

  The pain was still there now, but it was peripheral. It didn’t matter.

  Stopping the enemy was what mattered. Saving his people was what mattered.

  He opened his eyes and rose.

  Beside him, Sergeant Molokos struggled to his feet. The marine also recited a mantra. His voice was a growl, but it was the same philosophy that protected Kane.

  Peace. Truth.

  One correct course of action.

  One of the Valorians was down, unmoving in the dirt, a honey-like fluid spewing from the back of it.

  They got him, Kane thought. The automatic slugthrowers worked. I knew you could do it, Commander Brattain.

  But now, the second remaining Valorian—who’d had his gauntleted fist pointed toward the ship—turned back toward Kane and Molokos. He threatened to join in the psychic assault against them. Kane doubted they could survive two Valorians trying to burn out their brains.

  Kane forced himself into a run, Molokos jogging beside him. He raised his katana as they closed the distance.

  Everything seemed to be working in slow motion. Kane thought that he could see his own reflection in the oily visor of the Valorian that he charged towards.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought, bemusedly: I look like some old, angry animal making a last, bitter defense of his territory.

  And so he laughed as he brought the blade of his katana down on the Valorian.

  The armored giant blocked with his gauntlet. There was an odd ring as the metal struck something unusual.

  Not good, Kane thought. Any conventional organic material would have parted instantly to the blade.

  Meanwhile, Molokos had leapt onto the other Valorian. The enemy staggered from Molokos’s tackle, and the blue-skinned drone grappled with the armored, faceless giant.

  Kane whipped his sword through a flurry of elegantly brutal strikes seeking an opening— his opponent’s weak spot.

  But each strike was blocked, or parried.

  Beside him, Molokos gained leverage on his own opponent, flipped him over his shoulder. There was a crack as something gave way: either the bony armor covering the Valorian’s arm, or perhaps his actual bone, somewhere underneath.

  Molokos roared in rage, and punched through the faceplate’s membrane. It ruptured with a liquid sound, and Molokos stuck his giant fist inside.

  Grunting, he pulled hard… And pulled the inside creature out as far as its head.

  Pale and heavily veined, it was like an elongated fetus, dripping amniotic fluid. Ageless eyes gazed at Molokos as the slit-like, toothless mouth opened and closed silently.

  Molokos roared and crushed its skull in one might hand. There were torrents of blood—but the thing died without a sound.

  Now, the remaining Valorian turned to Molokos, apparently angered by the execution of its brother. It began to raise its gauntleted arm…

  Kane charged, his katana in front of him like a spear pointed directly towards the middle of the giant’s chest. He thrust and ran the Valorian through, impaled it.

  Rivulets of amber liquid began to trickle from the wound. Kane pulled at his katana, wrenching it out.

  As he did so, giant armored hands clamped onto his own skull.

  They squeezed—and with the pressure came fire.

  Unbearable fire.

  He tried to seek the Void, a place of serenity—

  But the fire was burning everything, down to his very soul.

  And there was no safe place left.

  #

  Brattain watched in horror as the Valorian clamped its hands onto Kane’s skull.

  The Captain dropped his sword and shook violently, as if in the throes of a terrible seizure. Blood ran from his mouth, nose, and ears.

  Sergeant Molokos bellowed, picked up Kane’s sword, and stabbed the Valoria
n through the faceplate.

  The armored monster collapsed, blood and amber fluid pulsing from the rent, oily membrane of the faceplate.

  Without hesitation, Molokos slung Kane’s limp body over his shoulder and ran for the ship.

  Brattain shook her head, still trying to get her senses back after the burst of pain that she’d suffered.

  The Captain, she thought. He distracted them.

  Otherwise, I might never have woken up from that nightmare of fire.

  There was movement behind her, and she turned. Someone was coming down the ramp of the Musashi: a barefoot figure clad in a loose tunic and pants with a strangely young-old face.

  It took her a moment to identify him in her pained haze.

  Seutter.

  He was walking in a listless stagger, as if half drunk. He didn’t say anything.

  No one spoke. All was quiet except for the moans of the injured.

  Molokos ran up with Kane, and laid him down in the dirt. He grabbed Doctor Xon’s arm, nearly wrenching it out of its socket in his haste to bring him over to tend to the Captain.

  “Help him!” Molokos demanded.

  Xon removed a handheld scanner from his pocket and extended the probe, touched it to Kane’s forehead.

  The Captain’s eyes stared vacantly back. His face was red with burst blood vessels, and his mouth, leaking blood, hung open. He seemed to be breathing—but just barely.

  Seutter approached Xon and, surprisingly, touched his shoulder.

  The Psionicist blinked slowly several times and bowed his head, seeming genuinely saddened. “He’s gone,” he said.

  “No,” Xon replied, “God no.”

  “No thoughts. Nothing,” Seutter said.

  Molokos just stared at Kane, numb. Xon began weeping softly as Seutter walked away.

  Brattain grabbed Xon’s arm. “No, not—Isn’t there something we can do?”

  “Bastards killed the Captain,” Cruz mumbled. She squeezed Brattain’s arm, hard.

  Brattain turned to her, looking as the petite pilot’s eyes filled with tears, wondering what to say.