Atlantia Series 2: Retaliator (26 page)

‘How many of them are infected?’ Ty’ek snapped. ‘You said that there was only one!’

‘There is only one now,’ Kordaz replied, ‘and he is in stasis. We can help him if…’

‘You are injured and of no use to the commonspecies,’ Ty’ek growled. ‘Your treacherous friendship with the humans will be all of our undoing if we allow you back aboard. I will not have you serve with us!’

‘You are young and inexperienced,’ Kordaz said. ‘You don’t possess the maturity to command a battleship. If you do not learn to cooperate, our entire commonspecies is doomed.’

Ty’ek’s skin rippled a deep crimson and his eyes narrowed. ‘If ever we shall meet, Kordaz, I shall cut your throat myself.’

Evelyn shook her head. ‘We have information about the Legion that we can share and…’

‘Your kind has shared enough of your creations with our people!’ Ty’ek shouted. ‘Now I shall share some of ours with you and your traitorous new friend!’

The communication link snapped off as the Veng’en once again jammed all of the Sylph’s communications.

‘That’s it,’ Bra’hiv snapped. ‘We’re out of here. The Legion will try to reach us despite the cold, searching for new hosts or just to destroy us. It will head here first and try to reactivate the environmental controls. We leave, now.’

Kordaz was staring at the blank viewing monitor. Although his leathery face could show no emotion and any skin changes were not visible in the low light, it was as if Evelyn could sense the dismay and shame swamping his body. He felt heavier than before as she supported him, slumped as he was against a console.

‘Come on,’ she said, ‘it’s time to go.’

‘No,’ Kordaz replied. ‘Ty’ek will blast you from existence long before you reach your ship. I will remain here and aid your escape.’

‘How the hell are you going to do that?’ Bra’hiv uttered. ‘This ship has minimal armaments.’

Kordaz propped himself up and limped to the captain’s chair, then slumped into it with a sigh of relief.

‘It is in our nature to find weapons where others will find none,’ he replied. ‘Go, now! Before the legion reaches the bridge.’

The Sylph shuddered as a broadside of plasma blasts smashed into its hull. A series of alarm claxons sounded throughout the vessel and warning lights lit up across the control stations.

The Marines began rushing toward the exits as Bra’hiv reloaded his plasma rifle’s magazine and looked at Evelyn.

‘Come on,’ he said, ‘we’ll need you in your Raython to cover our escape.’

Evelyn was about to move when she remembered Andaim. ‘Where is Commander Ry’ere?’

‘He’s already down in the shuttle with the doctors,’ Djimon replied gruffly. ‘Your little beau will be just fine.’

‘His Raython is down there,’ Evelyn replied, ignoring the general’s flippancy. ‘We can use it.’

‘I can fly it I suppose,’ Bra’hiv said.

‘No,’ Evelyn replied as she looked at Kordaz and guessed what the Veng’en had in mind, ‘I’ve got a better idea.’

The Veng’en looked at her. ‘Me?’

Evelyn nodded. ‘You can’t control the bridge alone here. We’ll do this together.’ She turned to Bra’hiv. ‘Get below and protect the landing bay. Be ready to launch as soon as you see us.’

‘What the hell are you going to do?’

‘The last thing they expect,’ Evelyn replied. ‘Go, set up a perimeter.’

An alarm sounded on the bridge and C’rairn glanced at his controls.

‘The Legion is moving,’ he said, ‘heat signatures advancing this way. Let’s go!’

The Marines scattered off the bridge with Djimon and Bra’hiv following them and turning for’ard for the landing bay two decks below. Evelyn turned to Kordaz.

‘Are we going for a ride?’ she asked.

‘Yes, we are,’ Kordaz replied as he surveyed the captain’s control panel with satisfaction. ‘The engines are working again.’

***

‘Djimon!’

Qayin bellowed at the sergeant as he saw him set the detonator and then flee from sight down the exit corridor.

The hordes of Hunters plunged in pursuit, rushing toward both the hatch and Qayin, and in an instant Qayin knew that he would never be able to outrun the Hunters or get far enough down the corridor to save himself from the blast.

Qayin fired on the nearest of the Hunters as they swarmed toward him, the noise of their millions of savage pincers and sharp metallic legs sounding like a vast waterfall that thundered in his ears, a wave of metal and hate crashing toward him.

His shots plunged into the Hunters, the searing plasma melting them into balls of fused metal that tumbled upon their companions like dislodged boulders torn from canyon walls by black waves, sparks and embers fluttering from their surfaces.

Qayin fired shot after shot until his magazine was empty and he hurled the rifle at the Hunters. The weapon clattered down upon them and was instantly consumed, breaking up into individual pieces and sinking beneath the horrific waves.

Qayin turned, desperate for some way to escape, and saw the detonator on the wall of the corridor. Upon its surface, a small counter was into single figures and going down fast. He knew that he would never make it. He turned back to the Hunters and on an impulse he kicked off his boots and tore off his combat fatigues as the flood washed toward him and the dense, heavy, hard and cold wave of Hunters crashed into his feet and ankles. In a terrible instant he saw them flood around his legs as he staggered backwards and cried out in a volatile mixture of outrage, pain and fear.

Qayin crouched down even as they flooded across him and then hurled himself upward as hard as he could. Devoid of his weighted gravity suit, Qayin shot up into the air as pain ripped into the flesh of his feet and ankles. He kicked down, smashing a dense ball of Hunters off his feet to tumble back down toward the deck. Deep lesions bled across his feet and ankles and he reached up to stop himself from smashing into the ceiling.

The blast hit Qayin from behind, a shockwave of heat that slammed into him and hurled him through the air over the massive flood of Hunters. Qayin tumbled end over end and crashed into the side of a massive generator. His vision starred as he squinted into the flames and saw Hunters burning in an immense funeral pyre, clouds of them glowing red like coals.

Qayin looked for a means of escape and almost immediately he spotted the escape capsules lodged into the engine room walls. Designed to provide salvation for engineers in the event of a catastrophic engine failure or indeed a military attack by hostile forces, the capsules had been reactivated by General Bra’hiv from the bridge as soon as Kordaz had been captured.

Qayin was about to move toward the capsules when he spotted a small box attached to the very top of the huge generator. Tucked behind an exhaust shaft that extended up toward the ceiling, Qayin’s heart skipped a beat as he moved across to the box and opened it.

Aboard all vessels, especially merchant ships, the trade in contraband had been a thriving industry. It didn’t matter if crews were plying narcotic weeds for drug making or exotic pets for wealthy clients wishing to avoid quarantine laws or weapons, the ability to make money on the side of deck–duty was what had sustained mariners for centuries, and the Sylph was no exception. Qayin knew what he was looking at the moment he opened the box, and he quickly took the contents from within and tucked them under his arm.

Devlamine. A street drug, packed into clear plastic bags, probably worth a cool couple of thousand back in the day. Qayin had imported Devlamine from Ethera’s forests and sold it to dock workers and sailors before he was caught and tried for a murder that he had not committed. The half dozen packs in the box were worth little as they stood, but if Qayin could get the weed into the sanctuary aboard the Atlantia, perhaps encourage some of the civilians into growing a small plantation, then the drug would provide wealth in terms other than of true currency.

Qayin knew an opportunity when he saw it.

A rustling sound caught Qayin’s attention and he looked back to the smouldering cliff of Hunters to see thousands of them rushing back down the corridor toward him. Qayin pushed off the ceiling and plunged down toward the deck, bouncing off of it and propelling himself down a narrow passage between giant exhaust cylinders toward the ranks of escape capsules.

The sound of the pursuing Hunters increased in intensity as they rushed back through the generator room and flooded over their cauterised companions, spilling like a wave across the deck as they followed Qayin.

Qayin floated toward the capsules and slammed into the wall alongside one of them, the packages of Devlamine tucked under his arm as he said a tiny prayer in his mind and hit the capsule’s activation switch. Behind him he heard the rustle of the Hunters build to a loud clattering and he turned his head to see them rush up behind him, thousands of pincers and beady little black eyes.

The capsule’s door hissed and opened, and Qayin pulled himself inside and yanked the door closed again just as the Hunters clattered against its surface and swarmed upon it. The view through the clear viewing panel darkened as they smothered it and Qayin saw their shiny metallic pincers scraping at the surface as they began clawing their way inside.

A panel before him flashed a message:

LAUNCH PROTOCOL: ACTIVATE?

Qayin looked into the tiny black eyes of a Hunter staring in at him, and waved as he hit the launch button.

The capsule sank back into the wall, taking some of the Hunters with it, and then a shield door closed, crushing many of them as it sealed itself. The capsule surged as explosive charges blasted it clear of the hull, and Qayin watched as the Hunters still clinging to the capsule froze in motion in the bitter cold of space, their mandibles and legs slowing as they fell from the capsule and floated away with the debris and escaped gases from the launch charges.

Qayin saw the fires burning across the Sylph’s hull, and then he spotted the huge bulk of the Veng’en cruiser looming into view, its cannons hammering the Sylph’s battered exterior in a ferocious bombardment as Qayin’s capsule tumbled helplessly out into the void.

***

‘All fighters, prepare to engage!’

Mikhain’s command rang out across the bridge as Captain Sansin took his command seat and surveyed the display screen.

The Veng’en cruiser was starting to move as she fired past the Atlantia and her shots struck the merchant vessel’s vulnerable hull. Read–outs overlaid on the display showed her plasma batteries charging and her fighters assuming attack positions in a protective veil around her.

‘Four squadrons of Scythe fighters in place around her,’ Mikhain reported, ‘our guys will be outnumbered two to one even if we throw everything at them.’

‘Then we’ll have to be smarter,’ Idris snapped in reply. ‘Manoeuvering power, and put us back between the Sylph and the Veng’en cruiser.’

The Atlantia surged as her engines burst into life, the entire ship filled with a faint vibration as though her heart had started beating again. Idris saw a pair of Raythons launch from the Atlantia’s bow catapults and race away toward the Veng’en cruiser.

Idris turned to Mikhain.

‘Launch the emergency shuttle,’ he ordered, ‘full quarantine kit and an escort of Marines. I want my people off the Sylph immediately, infected or not.’

‘What about the Veng’en?’ Mikhain asked.

‘If it’s alive, bring it back too.’

Mikhain scrambled to relay the order as Lael cried out.

‘She’s charging guns!’

Idris saw the Veng’en cruiser accelerate forwards with reckless aggression, crossing the Atlantia’s bow in an attempt to bring her guns to bear while the majority of Atlantia’s were facing out to each side.

‘We’re vulnerable!’ Mikhain warned.

‘Better us than the Sylph! Hard to starboard!’ Idris shouted. ‘Brace for impacts!’

The Veng’en cruiser’s hull flashed with ripples of red light as a salvo of plasma charges ripped across the empty space between them. The Atlantia shuddered as the blows hammered into her, alarms echoing across the ship and the lights flickering as the power surged in and out.

‘Multiple hits, for’ard quarter and port engine nacelles!’ Mikhain reported. ‘Fires on decks eight through ten!’

‘Reverse course!’ the captain yelled. ‘Bring us alongside and hit her engines with the starboard guns in the turn!’

The Atlantia heeled over again, rolling in the opposite direction as the captain’s feint lured the Veng’en cruiser into baring her hull after her guns had fired.

‘How long until they recharge?’ Idris called.

‘Forty eight seconds,’ Mikhain replied. ‘Batteries are too low to fire again.’

‘Full power!’ Idris snapped. ‘Make this one count! All batteries fire at point blank range as soon as target is in sight!’

The Atlantia turned laboriously, the Rankor’s captain realising his error and beginning to pull up to avoid the inevitable returned salvo.

‘Match her!’ Idris cried. ‘Keep us in plane! Don’t waste a shot!’

The Atlantia pulled up slowly as the helmsman matched the Veng’en cruiser’s manoeuvre.

‘Our batteries are at full charge,’ Mikhain reported, keeping his voice calm.

Idris saw the cruiser’s entire aft hull exposed to the Atlantia’s guns as it tried to turn away.

‘Hard yaw to port,’ he shouted. ‘Fire as your bear!’

The Atlantia broke away from the cruiser and as she did so her guns came to bear one after the other. The ship shuddered again as a distant thundering reverberated through her hull. The massive cannons blasted twelve consecutive rounds at the Veng’en ship from a range of little more than a thousand cubits, the plasma rounds smashing into her hull in bright flares of light that died away to reveal blackened, ragged cavities in her hull plating and glowing fires deep within.

‘Bring us about!’ Idris snapped. ‘We can turn faster than her and let loose our port cannons! Mikhain, order the Raythons to stay close to the Sylph in case the Veng’en try to sneak their Scythe fighters past us.’

Mikhain moved to relay the order and then stopped. ‘We’ve got a problem.’

‘What is it?’

‘The Sylph, sir,’ Mikhain said. ‘She’s moving into attack position.’