by Paul Teague
“Shit,” said Yau quietly, flicking at his dead controls. “They cut the power. All of it. We’re sitting ducks.”
23
The bridge of Vengeance was silent as all eyes turned to Stansfield. The consoles and screen arrays were dead. The main screen, which kept the bridge crew updated every hour of every day, was blank. The only light came from personal devices and the dim glow of the evacuation lighting system, which was powered by an internal battery system. It would last for twenty hours, providing light for essential maintenance and enough power to stop the ship’s nuclear core from going into meltdown.
“Vengeance has fallen,” muttered Yau.
Stansfield glared at him. “Do we have any comms capacity?” he asked.
“Nothing, Admiral, we’re completely dead,” said Yau. For a man used to offering solutions, it was an answer he didn’t want to give.
“Ideas, please, bridge crew,” said Stansfield, horribly aware that he had none of his own.
There was silence. Their ship was crippled and defenceless, there was no hope of back-up or rescue, and the enemy was rapidly returning to finish the job.
“Why haven’t they finished us yet?” Stansfield posed the open question, but nobody had an answer.
Ryan and his team were desperately trying to contact the shuttles and pods they’d seen leaving Orion, but either they were keeping quiet to avoid detection, or they were already dead.
“I’ve got Davies on the Battle Sphere, sir,” said Yau. “No sound, just a text through my personal comms device. They’re still alive.”
Stansfield grunted. “Are our internal communicators working?” he asked.
“Affirmative, sir,” said Pickering. “Personal devices are battery-powered, and they switch automatically to a peer-to-peer network when the ship’s system is down. We have limited short-range internal comms.”
“I want to make contact with the Raptor crews and anybody who’s left on Orion or the Battle Sphere,” said Stansfield. “I need a full sit-rep, and if anybody can get me a visual description of what the enemy ships are doing, that would be useful.”
The bridge crew set to work. Stansfield floated over to Yau. “What’s Davies saying? Anything useful?”
Yau shook his head. “The Battle Sphere’s been disabled. They’re locked out of the controls, but still have power. Davies is working on a fix for the intrusion, but no news yet.”
“And why is the link still open if we have no power?”
“We hopped it via my HUD, sir. It’s pretty slow, but we’re able to make it work.”
“Good. Give Davies anything he needs, but get this ship online.”
“We have eyes on the outside,” said Pickering. “The Raptor pilots are stuck. If they move, the enemy destroys them.”
Stansfield swore under his breath. “Any word on the enemy battleships?”
“Raptor teams report they’re slowing, sir. Looks like they’re coming alongside us and the remains of Orion.”
The bridge doors slid slowly apart as they were manually cranked open, and Woodhall floated back onto the bridge.
“Why?” said Stansfield, frowning. “Feel free to speculate.” He had his own theory, and if Vernon had been there, he’d have asked his friend to confirm that he wasn’t wide of the mark.
Nobody said anything. Then Lieutenant Woodhall, who’d been conferring with Captain Ryan, said, “Captain Ryan and I would like to take a couple of shuttles to Orion. There must still be crew alive, we need to begin a salvage operation.”
Stansfield frowned, immediately suspicious, but Woodhall’s suggestion had merit and the pair of them might even save lives. At the very least, it would occupy them far from Vengeance, leaving Stansfield free to navigate the current crisis.
“By all means, gentlemen,” said Stansfield gravely. “Lieutenant Fernandez will find you a shuttle and do all that he can to assist.”
Ryan looked like a ghost. Stansfield could see that he now carried the burden of guilt that came with the loss of his command. Hundreds, if not thousands, of his crew had perished, and he hadn’t even been there when his ship had been destroyed.
The two men floated off the bridge and headed away through the dimly-lit corridors. Stansfield gave them a few seconds, then went straight back to work.
“Can we reach Mason and his team?” he asked. “We need to know what’s going on with those mines.”
“Not directly, sir,” said Campbell, “but the Raptor pilots report they’re able to communicate peer-to-peer and pass messages back to Vengeance. The range of the external system isn’t spectacular, but we can exchange messages, at least.”
“Good,” said Stansfield. “Get me an update. Mason’s team might be the only card we have left to play.”
On the Battle Sphere, confusion reigned.
“Somebody forgot to pay the electricity bill,” said Jackson.
Captain Figgis and his company had kept the Mechs away from the control room, but without power, their efforts were pointless.
“Are we completely dead?” said Conway. “Is everything down?”
“Looks like it,” said Davies. “Sorry, people, show’s over.”
“Shit,” said Conway. “Get it sorted,” she said to Davies, “or we’ll have some real problems.”
“Roger,” said Davies, “working on it.” He battered at the console and swore at its designers. There was power, but he’d been locked out of all the core systems. At least Lieutenant Yau had confirmed that Vengeance was still alive. Whatever else might have happened, at least his mistake with the network links hadn’t cost them the battle.
Not yet, at least.
Davies felt sick at the thought that he might have given the Mechs an unbeatable advantage. Then he sniffed. “Pull yourself together,” he muttered to himself, “and get the bloody job done.”
He sat for a moment longer, listing out the things he knew about the Battle Sphere’s systems and command structures. Then he grinned and nodded. “That might do it,” he said, thinking through his idea and testing it from every angle he could think of. “That might very well do it.”
In the darkness of the Battle Sphere’s control room, as his colleagues fought the Mechs for control of the corridors and bays, Davies sat on the floor and went to work, whistling tunelessly.
24
“What a shit time for the fucking lights to go off,” said Kearney as her lamps came back on. Then she yelped as the gravity failed as well. “What the fuck?”
“Bridge,” said Hunter, “what’s going on?” There was no reply. “Bridge?”
Kearney glanced at Hunter as he hung in the near dark. “That’s not a good sign,” she said.
“General power failure?” asked Hunter as he activated a lamp built into the wrist of his arm. The corridor lit up, a tiny bubble of life in the blackness of the ship. “Does it get any worse?”
“At least we still have something to breathe,” said Kearney as she oriented herself in the corridor and caught hold of a monkey bar. The normal sounds of the ship had died away, which meant things were going to deteriorate quickly.
“For now,” said Hunter darkly as he fumbled with his weapon.
“Stop whining,” said Kearney. “You ready?”
Hunter sighed and nodded. “Yup. It’s gonna be tight in there, though. Those bloody Bots love their conduits and shadowy hiding places, don’t they? Who’s going first?”
“You’re the man with the glowing hand,” Kearney grinned.
Hunter snorted and swung himself over the vent so that he could peer in. “Looks fun,” he murmured as he pulled away the grille and pushed himself inside.
Kearney followed, arms outstretched to pull herself through the vent. “It stinks in here,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “You’ve got Mech brains squished into the treads of your boots. You might want to give them a polish when we complete this next mission.”
“I’m not seeing anything but vent,” said Hunter. “Do you think the OctoBots know we
’re here?”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine they don’t. The plan shows vents big enough to stand in near the core, but they’re only accessible through Engineering, and that’s not a good place to be right now.”
Hunter snorted, dimming his lamps. “We’re about there. How do you get a grille off from the inside?”
“You’re asking now?” said Kearney, incredulous. “Haven’t you got a tool in your wonder-arm?”
Hunter drew himself up to the grille and looked through the slats into the maintenance conduit beyond. “No sign of anything,” he said. Then he braced his feet against the walls of the vent and pushed on the grille. It swung gently open. “Here goes nothing.”
Hunter pulled himself into the larger maintenance conduit and checked it for movement. Kearney followed, looking grey around the eyes.
“I take it that RapidAdreno has worn off?” Hunter asked. They’d had a busy couple of hours, and there hadn’t been time to stop for a proper meal.
“Kind of,” Kearney answered. Her voice echoed. This chamber was large enough to stand in, and the walls were marked with engineering notices and arrows pointing the way to the core. “It’s still keeping me alert, but I don’t feel quite so hyper now.”
Hunter nodded. “Good to know. I’m turning the lights up,” he said. “It’s far too dark in here.” The lamp in his wrist brightened to illuminate the entire conduit.
“Nothing this way,” said Kearney.
“Onwards to the core, then,” said Hunter. It was tricky to navigate the conduit in a tactically sound manner without gravity to anchor them, but at least their rifles were weightless as well.
Kearney stopped and hissed, turning to face back the way they’d come.
“What’s up?” asked Hunter, peering back into the distant gloom.
Kearney played her lamps across the walls for a few seconds, then shook her head. “I’m just a bit jittery, I keep thinking I hear tin legs scuttling along the floor. Those Bots get to you in the end. There’s nothing quite like the feeling that an evil metallic spider is about to jump you.”
“Let’s take a beat,” suggested Hunter.
Kearney locked her foot against a strut and tried to open a channel to the bridge. Nothing. Then she tried a personal channel directly to Lieutenant Yau.
“Trooper,” acknowledged the lieutenant. The signal was weak and flaky, but it was there. “What’s your status?”
Kearney gave him a quick rundown of their situation, then asked if he had any news.
“It’s still dark, it’s still dead, and we’re starting to get a bit warm up here.”
Kearney nodded to herself. Without the atmosphere recyclers and environmental controls, the ship was going to warm quickly. “Any news from Davies?”
“No,” said Yau, “but I can probably patch you into his channel, if you want.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Kearney. There was a pause; then Davies joined the channel.
“Kearney? How’s it going? You anywhere near the core yet?”
“Almost,” said Kearney, grinning to hear his voice. “Anything we can do to help while we’re here? Hunter is with me.”
“He is? Great. Might have a job for you both later. Keep this channel open. The signal’s a bit patchy, but I’ll give you a shout if I need you.”
“I heard all that,” said Hunter, raising his arm. “I have the technology.”
Kearney nodded. “Break’s over,” she said, “let’s shoot these metal fuckers and rescue Vernon. Then you can get fancy with your tech.”
Hunter nodded. “After you,” he said, waving her politely ahead of him. Kearney pushed off from the wall and moved down the conduit as the light from Hunter’s wrist followed.
She floated around a corner and stopped dead as the beams of her lamps played across the conduit that opened up ahead of them.
“Bots,” she said hoarsely. “A shit tonne of them.”
Hunter braced himself at the junction and stared. Every surface was covered with OctoBots, all blinking away and staring back at the two Troopers.
“Fuck,” whispered Hunter as the OctoBots shifted, like a living wave of metal and glass. “Fall back, Kearney. They’ll be all over us.”
Kearney pulled herself back along the conduit until she was level with Hunter, eyes fixed on the OctoBots that sat, silent and still, around them.
Then she heard it, the inevitable tapping of metal legs on steel as the OctoBots sought their prey.
“How the fuck did they get so close without us hearing them?” said Hunter. He opened fire, and a moment later Kearney joined him. In seconds, the corridor was filled with a spray of brains and metal parts as the OctoBots were blasted apart.
“There’s too many of them,” shouted Kearney as she emptied her rifle’s magazine. She snatched out a pistol, letting the rifle float by her head, and kept firing.
The sound of gunfire in such a small space was deafening, but the numbers were against them. A wave of Bots moved down the claustrophobic corridor, a deadly swirl of creatures crashing like a wave towards them. Some came along the walls or ceiling, stuck to the steel by their magnetic feet. Others launched themselves through the air, flying directly at the two Troopers.
One by one the Bots were blasted apart until, suddenly, the echoes died away and there was silence once again.
“They’ve gone,” said a bemused Kearney. She reloaded her pistol, then holstered it and reloaded her rifle.
“At least we know where they are,” said Hunter, eyeing the conduit with distaste. “I fucking hate working in zero-G,” he said.
Kearney grunted and they pushed forward, clearing paths through the OctoBot debris and keeping their eyes peeled for metal legs and needles.
“This is it,” said Kearney, poking her rifle towards an opening. “Beyond that is the core.”
Immediately above the main hub, encased in layers of protective metalwork and foamcrete, was one of the nuclear fusion cores that powered Vengeance. In theory, this was one of the most fortified areas on the ship. It was also the most vulnerable, if you were fighting an enemy like the Bots.
Hunter peered inside and swore quietly. Strapped to the massive circular tech console on the middle of the core was Vernon, a Bot attached to his head, with more all around.
“We can’t shoot,” said Hunter. “Might crack the core.”
“Hey, Davies,” said Kearney, “I thought you’d like to know. These critters are all plugged into the core, they’re all wired up to it.”
“Yeah,” said Davies smugly. “I was counting on it. That’s how we’re going to beat the fuckers.”
“Do tell,” said Kearney, “because Vernon’s down here and we’ve no idea how to get him out.”
“I’ll talk you through it,” said Davies. “But you’ll need to do exactly as I say. Hunter, are you connected to Kearney’s comms unit?”
“Of course,” Hunter replied.
“Sending you a data package,” said Davies. “Store it somewhere safe.”
“Okay, that’s coming over. What do we do next?” said Hunter.
“I’m gonna need you to transfer the package directly into a Bot,” said Davies.
There was a moment’s silence. “Say that again,” said Hunter with an air of menace, “and use small words.”
“You need to transfer the data package to a Bot,” said Davies.
Hunter and Kearney exchanged a look. “And what, it’s just going to lie there and let me do that?”
“There’s a data port behind the second leg on the right-hand side,” said Davies patiently. “Flip the Bot over, plug yourself in, and inject the package.”
“Fuck, Davies,” said Hunter uneasily, looking around at the swarm of Bots that huddled around the core and Commander Vernon, “I don’t know about that, mate.”
“It’s the only plan I’ve got,” snapped Davies, “so unless you’ve got a better idea, just bloody get on with it!”
Hunter and Kearney exchanged another look. “I�
��ll grab that one,” said Kearney finally, pointing at the closest Bot, “and hold it against the wall for you to do your stuff, okay?”
Hunter looked distinctly unimpressed by the whole scheme. “I think I’d prefer to shoot the fuckers and risk blowing up the ship,” he muttered. Then he slung his rifle over his shoulder and prepped his arm. “Ready.”
“Three, two, one,” said Kearney. Then she pushed off the wall forward, getting a last sharp kick from the tail end of the RapidAdreno, and flew across the room.
She spun in mid-air to land feet-first on the core, then grabbed her target Bot. It was connected to the core by a cable, but she pulled at it and it broke away. The Bot scrambled at her, flailing its legs, and around her the other Bots twitched and shuffled, as if uneasy but unwilling – or unable – to act.
Kearney pushed off from the core and crossed back to where Hunter waited, all the time fearing that the Bots would attack. The beast in her hands jerked its legs and groped with its needles, but it couldn’t reach her.
“Do your thing,” she said, smacking the Bot on the corridor wall and holding it in place, the top of its case held firmly against the steel.
Hunter paused, hand hovering above the Bot, data cable at the ready. The Bot’s front legs flailed around, trying to snag something, and Hunter didn’t want to end up plugged into an OctoBot again.
“Fuck it,” said Hunter. He grabbed a leg with his cybernetic hand and twisted it off. The metal broke with a graunching squeal; then Hunter attacked the next one. The OctoBot thrashed harder than ever, and across the room its fellows began to stir, but at least they now had uncontested access to the beast’s belly.
Hunter plugged in his data cable and triggered the download of Davies’ package.
“Three, two, one,” he said, counting down for Kearney. Then he yanked the cable free, and Kearney tossed the Bot gently towards the core. The thing tumbled across the room, then righted itself when it reached the core. Kearney and Hunter watched as it scuttled awkwardly back to its starting point and plugged itself back in.
