by Rob Dearsley
“We’re spooling the jump drive and detaching the hulls,” Valentine said. “Ten minutes to jump.”
Dannage looked away. “I can’t protect you and the missile.”
Niels rocked back, rubbing a hand through his hair. “I understand. Do what you have to, to end this. We’ll manage.”
“Admiral.” Valentine kept his voice low. “We don’t have control of the defences.”
The com system cracked as Lloyd joined the channel. “I’ll cover the Feynman. Ten minutes you said. Go end this, Dannage. I’ve got them.”
Dannage leaned forward. “Is Arland there?”
“I’m sorry,” Niels said.
“Tell her… Damn it, I’ve got to go.”
“I’ll tell her,” Niels replied and cut the com channel.
◊◊
Dannage scrubbed his eyes. He definitely hadn’t been crying. He would see Arland again, he’d promised her he would.
So did I. Images of Zyfes, Loki’s lover, flowed into his mind, mingling with his own images of Arland.
In his memory, Dannage reached out pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, looking into her honey coloured eyes as the fire inside them crumbled into fear.
No. Stars damn it, no! He’d saved her from the X-Minds then. He’d do it now, damn it.
Loki closed with the swarm of Terran drones harassing the Feynman. Dannage’s anger and impotent frustration mingled with Loki’s and the weapons systems, and suddenly it wasn’t impotent anymore.
A storm of tracer fire ripped the lead wave of drones apart. CQC guns spilt a near solid screen of white-hot flack into the swarm as he slammed through them leaving burning wrecks in his wake.
The Feynman appeared through the storm of destruction. Dannage swept past, giving the beleaguered SDF ship a momentary reprieve, before heading for the final fusion missile.
More of the drones rose from the planet, this time accompanied by larger – but still small by Terran standards – ships.
Dannage bared his teeth and snarled. He may have only had two heavy fusion missiles, but he had other missiles in his arsenal. And he used them now. The ships scrambled to avoid the incoming nukes. Too little and far too late. His lips tightened into a satisfied smile as one of the cruisers fell back into the atmosphere, a screen of burning wreckage, tearing through the back ranks of drone fighters.
It was replaced by another, and another. They weren’t going to give up. He couldn’t turn back now. He knew what this meant. Hells, Niels had known.
He closed with the fusion missile, screening it with Loki’s bulk and leaving the Feynman behind.
“I burned once before.” He paused, realising he’d said the last aloud. That wasn’t him.
He stumbled back from the weapons console, hands going to his head. Stars, what was this? What had Loki done to him?
I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.
“Know what?” He didn’t know if he’d spoken. He could barely keep his thoughts straight anymore.
The link, what the other ship did to you. There is something more. Get to the command chair and I can save you.
The universe should burn. It must burn. He’d seen this before. Darkness controlled ships, fighting him, throwing everything he had against them but knowing it wasn’t enough. Weapons tearing through his hull.
Fire was the only cure. They must burn the darkness from the universe.
His eyes flew open. He understood it all. The Terran’s had found the darkness, and sent the X-Ships to stop it.
Get to the chair. The voice crashed through his head, driving back the foreign thoughts and for a moment he was himself again.
Michael Dannage, captain of the Hope’s Folly, threw himself into the Loki’s command chair, as he fell into nothingness.
I am sorry.
Dannage turned. He was back in that monochrome dreamscape. The robed Alphar – Loki – approached him, his hood pulled back from his equine face.
“Running the ship-link brought this on. I can fix it, but it will break this link.”
“If you do that you can’t fight. Save the others. Save Arland, damn it.”
“Now the weapons are unlocked, I can fight them. Hold them off at least.”
He reached forward to press a hand to Dannage’s head.
◊◊
Lloyd swung the hound around, letting out a spray of tracer fire that ripped the lead drones apart. But hells, there were so many of them, and the hound was down to twenty percent ammo stocks. Another quick spray sent one of the drones spinning off into the debris field.
Slater’s smiling face flashed through his mind. He’d failed her. He wasn’t going to fail anyone else.
The com cracked. “Captain Lloyd.”
It was the com officer from the Nowhere scout. He’d assumed they’d hooked up with Niels and the others before this.
“What’s going on, you need to get to the Feynman?”
“Engines are shot and the escape pods are gone. I’m stuck here for the duration.”
“I’ll get the Feynman to send a shuttle over, or I can swing by and pick you up.”
“No, sir. Not in time. We made our choice and these are the consequences. Look, I’m launching all our remaining missiles and slaving them to your targeting systems.”
“I can still get to you.”
“Captain, stop. You can’t. And it’s okay. Protect the others. And may we meet again, in starlight.”
“Always in starlight,” Lloyd finished, even though the com channel was already closed.
Bloody hells. He ripped apart another pair of drones, growling in frustration. A second later, five callouts appeared on the heads-up. The missiles. He marked up targets and sent them slamming into the drone swarm, giving himself some breathing room.
◊◊
Arland marched into the command centre, Hale and Luc following in her wake. Niels and Valentine stood over the main systems console; worry etched into their faces.
Niels turned. “Arland, Hale. Good to see you. Good work with the substation.”
“Drive is at fifty percent,” a tech called from the other side of the compartment.
“Hulls One and Two are clear,” Valentine said, then frowned and tapped a control on his console. “Crap. Hull Three won’t detach.”
“Try again,” Niels ordered.
Valentine tapped the controls again, harder this time. “Nothing.”
“Blow the joints.”
Everyone turned to look at Luc.
“Come on, it’s not like we’re planning to reattach it. We plant charges on the connections. Blow them when its time.”
“What, in under four minutes?” Valentine snapped.
“What about Lloyd?” Arland asked. They all turned to face her. “He’s already out there. He’s armed.”
Niles spun to the console and opened the com channel to the hound. “Captain Lloyd, we need you to destroy the connectors for Hull Three. Sending target information on this channel.”
“Copy,” Lloyd’s voice filtered through the console speakers. “Going now.”
“Three minutes to jump,” Valentine supplied.
“I know,” Lloyd said and cut the com channel.
◊◊
Lloyd spun the hound away from the swarming drones and hit the engines. On the edge of the heads-up, the time to jump scrolled down all too fast. Next to it was his dwindling ammo counter, ten percent left. Hells, he hoped it would be enough to take the connectors. If only he still had the missiles from the Scout Cruiser. But at least they’d given him some breathing room.
He swung the fighter down through the centre of the Feynman’s structure, through the director channel for the main particle cannon, as long as it wasn’t activated, he’d be fine. At least he hoped. But it was the only way to get around the massive ship in time.
Callouts popped up on the heads-up, marking the four connection points. He brought the fighter in close, skimming along the underside of the hull. At least he didn’t have
to worry about defensive weapons down here.
Tracer fire pinged off the hull around him. The bloody drones were still there. He pushed the engines harder and went evasive, jockeying the hound from side to side. Even if he had the ammo, he didn’t have the time to take them on. Shots glanced off the Hounds stubby wing. Damn. Hold on, old girl, he begged. Nearly there, I promise.
The callout for the nearest connector turned red. Optimal firing range. He waited another second then fired. Tracers ripped into the connection port, sparking off the reinforced joint. Lloyd strafed the fighter around the connector, still firing. Metal and carbon gave in a wash of sparks and frozen atmosphere.
One down.
Countdown to jump scrolled past two-twenty-five. He needed to move faster.
The drones chased him through the Feynman’s internal gantries, tracer fire zipping past on either side. Less than twenty meters from the next connector, well within range, but his ammo was down to six percent.
“You know what?” he muttered, flicking through the Hound’s remaining countermeasures. “If you’re going to tag along, you can be bloody useful.”
With a touch, he triggered his last two flare packs. White hot metal and scanner refractors filled the space behind the Hound. In the tight confines within the Feynman’s superstructure, the countermeasures made an almost solid wall. He dodged around the connector.
The drones, blinded by chaff, slammed into the connector, ripping it clean away in a wash of fire as fuel and oxygen combined.
Lloyd pushed the engines up past the redline and up the length of the Feynman. Two minutes ten seconds to jump.
◊◊
I burned once already.
Dannage fell through nothingness. It wasn’t dark, nor light. It wasn’t anything.
The universe must…
It felt like a weight lifted from his shoulders. His mind suddenly quiet, empty. He was, for the first time in months, alone with his own thoughts. Dannage took a deep breath, cold air burning down into his lungs. It tasted of salt, sea air.
He landed hard, hitting reality with a physical jolt that left him gasping for breath. Blinking against the harsh lights of the bridge, he clambered from the command chair. He’d grown so used to just knowing what was going on in the ship around him, the silence felt blinding. There were things happening that he couldn’t see, didn’t understand. Stars, it was frustrating.
“Captain Dannage, you must go,” the voice, Loki’s, came from overhead speakers.
“What about you? About the darkness?” he asked.
“I can handle the ships. Child, the universe is better for having you and your people in it. I go to be with my family now. You must do the same.”
Dannage didn't like leaving it half done. “But-”
“There’s an escape pod programmed to intersect with your ship. Take it. I started this. I will finish it. And then, I will see Zyfes again.”
An unseen force knocked Dannage back, sending him stumbling through the open door. Before he could recover, the door slammed in front of him, cutting him off from the bridge.
“Escape pod five-oh-six. Go!”
Loki’s voice echoing in his ears, Dannage sprinted for the escape pod. Damn, he wished he knew what was happening outside. Did he even have time to get back to the Feynman before they jumped out?
Just shut up and run, sir. Arland’s voice was clear as day, he smiled at the memory. He was going back to her. He’d promised. He loved her.
The deck pitched and rocked beneath him, the dull thunder of heavy weapons fire impacting the hull. He instinctively reached for the scanner feeds. Damn it. Steadying himself against the bulkhead, he started toward the escape pod.
◊◊
“Seventy percent charge,” a tech announced.
Arland looked around the engineering compartment. There wasn’t anywhere here the darkness could survive. The rest of the section should be just as well lit. So why was her skin still crawling?
Two minutes and they’d be going home. She looked up at the overhead. Stars, please let Dannage get back. She didn’t want to lose him.
A pair of armoured figures walked in. They were in the anti-Turned power assist armour, their closed faceplates reflecting the room. Good for them, she guessed, although it must have taken them a fair bit of time to get into the gear. She didn’t think there were any suits in the section.
“Seventy-five percent charged.”
In fact… Looking at the suits reminded her of Grayson’s armour looming over her, that empty void behind the faceplate. Just the thought made her shiver.
She spun, raising her coil-gun – one round left, she had to make it count – and sighted in on the faceplate.
“Commander?” Niels asked from off to one side, looking between her and the armours.
“Oh, crap.” Beside her, Hale aimed her own gun at the figures, Fyffe and Ellis a beat behind her.
“What’s happening?” Valentine asked as the four of them spread out around the impassive armoured figures.
“They’re Shadow-forms,” Arland said.
“Eighty percent, jump in ninety seconds.”
◊◊
Dannage ran on. A hundred meters or so down this corridor and then into a crossway that would lead to the outer edge of the ship and the escape pods within range of the Feynman. More weapons fire slammed into Loki and the lights flickered plunging Dannage into momentary darkness.
His foot hit the deck launching him up to crash into the overhead. Before he could reorient himself to the new lack of gravity, it reset, slamming him down on the deck, his leg twisting beneath him.
He tried to stand. A blade of pain thrust its way through his ankle, ripping a cry from his throat. He managed to catch himself on the bulkhead.
Dannage took another ginger step. White hot pain shot through his leg. He tumbled again. Damn it, he was never going to make it to the escape pod like this. He was so close. Stars damn, the stupid gravity.
More weapon impacts, followed by other blasts, internal explosions. Loki was taking a pounding out there. He had to move. Had to get to the escape pods.
The force of his frustrations drove him to his feet.
Stars damn-it. His leg collapsed beneath him, again. Stars, please. Stupid gravity.
Gravity.
“Loki, kill the gravity to this section,” it was an order, not a question.
No response. Damn. Everyone was leaving him. He didn’t want to die alone. Not like this, in this strange system, surrounded by darkness.
◊◊
The last connector screamed toward Lloyd. The LIDAR pinged, picking up more drones incoming. Nothing he could do about it now. If this worked, they’d never reach him in time and if it didn’t, they were screwed anyway.
The timer hit one-ten.
Proximity alarms sounded, and he hit the weapons controls firing at point blank. Shrapnel ripped away, bouncing off the Hound’s armoured nose. But the connector held. Only by a thread, but it held. He hit the weapons control again. The console just chirped, the ammo counter flashing empty. Damn it all. He was so close. Just another couple of shots would have been enough.
He slammed the engines to full, ramming the Hound into the connector. Metal scraped and screamed, the Hound groaning.
“Come on,” he begged. “Just a little longer, then you can rest.”
The connector gave up and the hull broke away from the rest of the ship. Lloyd let out a breath, slumping in the seat. He was done.
Forty seconds.
The Hound screamed along the Feynman’s hull toward the engineering section and the welcoming blink of her last open airlock.
Distance and time counters scrolled away on the cupola in front of him. He wasn’t going to make it. Not to the airlock.
He flipped the hound over so the massive curve of the hull was above him, to get a better view.
Twenty seconds.
There, a patch of undamaged flat hull. That would have to do. He flipped the hound
over again, dropped the landing gear, and slammed the hound into the Feynman’s hull and triggered the magnetic locks. The impact threw him forward against the harness and the world broke apart around him.
◊◊
“If you’re human open the damn visor,” Arland shouted at the armoured figures. Shadow-forms, they had to be.
The armours didn’t move.
“Engines at ninety percent,” the tech announced.
Stars. They couldn’t take the chance. After everything they’d sacrificed – Dannage – she would be damned if she was going to take the chance.
The gun twanged in her hands and the flechette whickered across the compartment. The magnesium infused round hit the faceplate of the left figure with a blinding flash and a dull boom. The composite splintered apart, shadows pouring out, pooling around the armour. The lights sparked off the rolling shadow, burning it up.
The other shadow-form raised its gun and returned fire. Arland dropped her rifle – it was empty anyway – and dove behind a console, pulling Valentine down with her. Ellis pushed Fyffe into cover, taking a shot to the leg, and the pair went tumbling. Hale returned fire.
The status display read ninety-five percent.
“Arland.” Ellis threw his stubby grenade launcher. “Alternating flash and frag, next round is a frag.”
Arland grabbed the launcher and rolled up from behind the console, the stock jammed under her arm. She fired twice in quick succession. The frag blast twisted and jammed the exoskeleton of the right Shadow-form’s armour, locking the arm into place. The flash-bang blew apart the rolling darkness.
“Ten seconds to jump,” Niels called from behind a console as fire from the other troopers peppered the armour.
The armour rushed Arland and Valentine. She fired twice more before the launcher clicked empty, and the armour stumbled toward her darkness pouring from the shattered faceplate to dissolve under the light.
“Arland!” Fyffe screamed throwing stun grenades at Arland.
The world shattered around Arland, twisting back on itself.
◊◊
The deck pitched beneath Dannage sending him tumbling down the incline. He bounced off the floor into the ceiling, jarring his shoulder, his head spinning.
When his head cleared, Dannage pushed off the overhead and down the corridor, his legs trailing behind him in the zero-gravity.
