Into the Black: Odyssey One (14 page)

“Captain, we’re reading something strange from the Ronako!”

“Leave it. We don’t have time for them, right now! Keep firing!” Tal snapped, not even wanting to think about all the dead comrades on that fallen ship.

On the view screen, however, it soon became evident that the Ronako had once again become a factor in the battle. An energy distortion surrounded the vessel in a pale blue light, growing in intensity as a thin funnel appeared in the swirling mass and spired across the image of the dying Drasin vessel. Moments later both vessels were covered in the same blue light, as something was transferred from the drifting Ronako to the Drasin ship.

A scant few instants later, the Drasin emerged from its cocoon and left the entire bridge looking in dismay at a fully repaired and lethal Drasin destroyer. Tal gaped for a moment, not believing what his own eyes and the ships sensors were telling him, but finally shook him out of it.

“All ships, evasive maneuvers and keep firing. Keep your shields up they’d have done to us by now, if they could get through the shield systems!”

The fleet vessels spun on their flaring drives, firing wildly at the fully repaired berserker in their midst, dancing desperately away from the lethal beams of their Drasin opponent. The fleet began hit and run techniques, each one taking a few shots and running off when the Drasin vessel attacked them. When they had evaded pursuit and recharged slightly, they ducked back in, to repeat the maneuverer. It was slow, it was brutal, but the tactic was working for them, as the Drasin slowly began to slow and hesitate.

And, of course, things quickly got worse.

“Captain, the incoming vessel is on an interception course!”

“Ours?” Tal gripped his command chair tightly, looking over to the operations console.

“No Sir! Definitely Drasin configurations, Sir.” The young crewman looked sick, and well he might.

“How many?” Tal asked tensely.
One more of those vessels are too many.

The young man gulped as he looked up from his boards in terror, “twenty-three, Sir.”

This time Captain Tal didn’t hesitate, not for an instant. He hit the fleet communicator and yelled into it, in no uncertain terms. “This is Captain Tal to all ships! Break and run! Vector zero two zero mark three! I repeat all ships retreat!”

The fleet vessels turned and ran sprinting for the only opening they had left a white giant system a few light minutes away.

They needed to buy time to generate enough power to escape into Dimensional drive, something they couldn’t do with the weapons drain on their systems. Most species had a choice when they were in a situation like this, it was called fight or flight, and in this case they could literally only choose one.

Tal was pale and haggard as he realized that he had chosen the wrong one.

The couldn’t outrun the Drasin in deep space, that was obvious even from the short battle they had just fought, the best they could hope for would be that they could draw them into a trap within a gravity well. Then if things went right, they could escape the well and enter dimensional drive, while the Drasin were recovering.

If things went well.

Milla heard the Captain order the ships to deploy the mines, which alone shocked her, since those nuclear devices were weapons of last resort. The small fighter craft they had worked on for months, to refit from passenger shuttles and small freighters were launched into the maelstrom. Their pilots could hope only to buy a few more minutes for the retreating fleet. Even that wasn’t enough and the Drasin were soon upon them.

As if through a dream, she heard Tal give the order to abandon ship, but when she moved to object, his stare silenced her words before they could be spoken and she left the battle-scarred bridge. Her last sight of Tal was his proud posture sitting firmly in his command chair, staring at the damaged viewer.

At the pod, Milla looked wildly about. It was the last pod and she didn’t want to leave anyone behind, but no one else came. Stumbling inside the small craft she thumped the controls, sealing the pod off and firing the ejection thrusters. The Carlache spun wildly, framed as it was by the small window of the pod, taking massive hits from the Drasin ships that had pursued it. Its weapon’s systems fired up one last time and she saw them blaze as they returned fire with as much fury as futility. The last thing Milla saw was a fatally wounded Drasin fighter spinning in her direction, then the pod spun violently and the universe went dark.

A long time passed, without her knowing it. Time that saw the rest of her fleet destroyed. Time that saw the Drasin hunt down life-pods just like hers, as her ship-mates began to broadcast the plaintive cry for help.

Through all of that time, Milla floated in the micro-gravity of the pod, held in place only by her restraint system, as she tumbled over and over in space.

Outside, after a long time, the Drasin left, satisfied that they had finished their task. Satisfied that there was nothing left alive in the White Giant system. And after they were gone, after another long time passed, the circuits of Milla’s life-pod waited patiently for a command to do their duty.

Finally, the computer decided that something was wrong. It had been launched and yet neither the automatic, nor the manual triggers had been flipped. That was not correct. So it attempted to contact its ship, in case it had been ejected by accident.

No response.

The computer paused for an infinitesimal moment, accessed its internal scanners and analysed the air. When it detected the increase in carbon dioxide, the computer made a calculation and decided that perhaps it hadn’t been an accident.

So, unbeknownst to the single occupant of the life pod, the onboard computer overrode its own programming and flipped a bank of virtual switches.

And, above her head, also unknown to the unconscious woman, a small device began to beep softly, as it began its preprogrammed duty.

Chapter 9

“And, as far as I can make out, your people came along, a short while later. I suppose I’m extremely lucky that your ship was en route to that system, but,” Milla paused and looked at Weston strangely, “why would you be going there? There is nothing of use in that system…”

Dr. Palin spoke for the first time, “We wern-”

“Doctor, not now,” Weston shut him up with a gesture, he wasn’t yet willing to share that they had a faster method of interstellar travel just yet.

Milla, however, had blinked as she looked to the screen. “Great Creator. How long have I been here? That’s Duorchin. . . . Its two weeks from where we were. I…” her voice trailed off.

Eric and Palin watched, subdued, as the young woman restrained herself as the images of lost ships and comrades crossed her mind. After a moment, Weston shrugged slowly and spoke.

“Apparently, you’ve been out for some time,” he said slowly.

Milla looked between them curiously, knowing that something was wrong in what she was hearing, but not knowing what it was. After a long moment she gave up on it for the moment and let out a shuddering sigh. “At any rate, I thank you very much for your rescue of my Pod.”

“No need, Ithan Chans. Search and rescue operations are a part of our mandate,” Eric replied instantly, the response was an ingrained reaction. One didn’t leave anyone lost at sea, on land, or in space. Period.

“Nonetheless, I am grateful,” Milla’s lips twisted slightly, “in spite of the accommodations.”

Palin chuckled slightly, “I’m afraid that is also standard practice, my dear.”

“You were an unknown our medical procedures require a stay of several days in isolation while medical tests are performed. Although, I admit that the mirrored visors were my idea, and not from any book,” Eric explained as she looked curious.

“They were most… disconcerting,” Milla pursed her lips at the memory before she shrugged fatalistically.

Weston smiled, “That was the intention.”

Captain Weston walked over to the intercom and flipped the switch, “Doctor Rame, has Milla been cleared from isolation yet?”

“Yes Captain,” the doctor’s voice floated back through the speaker.

“Good, we’re coming out now.”

The three of them cycled through the airlock and stepped into the open medical labs. Milla was greeted by stares from a good number of the on duty personnel and their patients. Weston led her through the lab and out into the corridors of the Odyssey.

“Doctor,” Weston half turned to Palin.

“Yes Captain?”

“Miss Chans will need quarters and a change of clothing, as well,” Weston said, “Could you see to it that the Quartermaster assigns her something suitable, and has her fitted for some clothes.”

“Uh…, yes Sir…,” Palin blinked.

“All right,” Weston turned and smiled at Milla. “The Doctor will get you set up. I have duties to attend to.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Milla nodded. “I appreciate your help.”

“Not at all,” Eric replied, nodding to her as he parted company. “Just doing my duty, Ma’am.”

*****

“Here we go.” Palin said as the door slid open. “Watch your step…”

Milla nodded, stepping over the barrier that separated the cabin from the hall, and into the small room.

“I’ve called the Quartermaster, so we’ll get you fitted for some other clothes…,” Palin said, a tad uneasily as he gestured to her hospital clothes. “In the meantime, let me show you around.”

*****

“Status reports,” Weston demanded as he stepped onto the bridge, glancing around at the bustle of motion.

“Not much has changed, Captain,” Roberts said, nodding to the screens. “The Carnivore Drones have located another three central… nests of those things, but nothing near the size of the first one. They seem to be taking the planet apart piece by piece, Sir.”

“Explain.”

Roberts turned around, placing a hand on the shoulder of a computer technician, “Bring up the pictures from the city again.”

Eric watched as the picture on the screen changed and he instantly saw a difference from earlier. “Is that the same area?”

“No Sir. This one is closer to the center of the… population” Roberts replied. “Notice the state of the buildings.”

Eric nodded. They were demolished totally wrecked and the spider like things was dragging pieces of them underground.

“They look like bastardized spiders, Captain. But they act like ants,” Roberts replied. “Watch this. . . .”

As he watched, Eric saw the screen shift focus as the army of creatures picked at a towering scraper until it shuddered in place. On the screen, it seemed to happen in slow motion, but on the ground, Eric knew that it would have happened incredibly fast. The huge building shuddered and started to topple slowly over, toward the largest group of the spider things. As it fell some of them scrambled out of the way, but most couldn’t move in nearly enough time, and that monster of a building, threw up debris and dust, as it crushed and buried them.

For a brief moment there was no motion on the screen other than the rolling dust, and then some of the debris moved as buried creatures that weren’t crushed dug themselves out and went back to work. In minutes the scene was back to normal as hundreds, or thousands of the creatures, began picking the rubble apart and transporting it underground.

“Damn” Eric whispered in sober reflection. “What are they doing with all that stuff?”

“I don’t know, Sir” Roberts said uneasily. “They’re grabbing everything. Buildings, roads, trees and animals when they catch them.”

“And they drag it all underground?”

“Yes Sir.”

Weston shook his head, “They must have miles of tunnels built, but it doesn’t make sense.”

“Sir?”

“According to our ‘guest’, this world was only invaded a short while ago.” Eric explained, “Call it a month, at the outside, with some uncertainty to cover how long it was that she was floating out there before we picked her up.”

“Damn,” Roberts said calmly, but with a hint of real emotion. “That’s scary, Sir. But they do have the numbers in place to…”

“That’s just it, Commander,” Eric interrupted him. “According to her, there were only a few of them in the city after the invasion. Now, maybe they were just underground by then, but if she’s right…”

“Then these things take the expression ‘go forth and multiply’ to a whole new level,” Roberts frowned, looking again at the screen.

“Right you are, Commander.” Eric said softly. “Right you are.”

*****

Milla Chans looked around her cabin, deep in thought. It was small, that was for certain, but it was well appointed, she decided. Everything she needed was here, including access to food and water services, as well as a place to sleep and wash up.

On one of her ships, she’d have more room, but for the moment this would suffice.

Palin had just left along with the man he’d called a ‘Quartermaster’, but had promised to return with clothing shortly. In the meantime, she’d been advised to clean up and she intended to do just that.

The shower had been quaint, she had to admit, but there were backward parts of the colonies that used running water still, so she wasn’t overly surprised by it. Generally, she’d prefer a cleanser, but this would do in a pinch.

The soap, on the other hand, was a bit on the weird side. That, she decided, would take some getting used to. But it smelled okay and the lather was interesting, if nothing else.

She shed the flimsy gown the doctor had replaced her spacer’s gear with, briefly wondering what had happened to it, as she stepped into the shower and punched in temperature settings. The water cascaded over her, causing her to flinch back from the heat at first, then she eased back into it as her skin acclimated.

Cleansers feel better,
she sighed.
And I hope they didn’t destroy my spacer equipment. That takes weeks to form.

She shook her head and grabbed the soap. It smelled different under the water, she thought, but it always paid to adjust to the local customs.

Especially when you’ve been rescued by them
.

*****