Fleet ops box set, p.77
Fleet Ops Box Set, page 77
She glanced over her shoulder and saw the Wayfarers had covered half the distance in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t possible that anything could move that fast, she thought. They were staggeringly fast.
She spun around and, ignoring all the protocols she’d been trained in her whole life, did absolutely no preflight check list. She just fired up the thrusters and slid the Python into the tubes.
Then she saw what Decker was talking about. The tubes were shut. Of course; they were abandoning ship. They were shutting down the bay.
But as she watched, the tubes opened up, and she could see stars.
She glanced around and saw Paul standing alone at the launch platform on the far side of the bay, not that far from where she’d first run into him.
He turned and saluted her. A crisp, perfect salute.
Then Fesky fired her thrusters, and the Python rocked out of the tubes, even as the Wayfarers smashed into them.
Sparks flew, and the Providence shuddered again, this time another of the big impacts wracking the ship. For a second, she thought she saw the launch tube shift and block her exit. Then the great ship seemed to flex again, and she was surrounded by space and stars.
She fired her thrusters and roared into open space. She glanced back, but there was nothing to see. The bay was already receding, and her last thought was of Paul turning to salute her even as the Wayfarers were bearing down on him.
The ship shuddered again, practically vibrating in space from tip to stern. It didn’t break apart, but it might as well have.
The Providence, Fesky knew, was doomed.
Chapter 57
Combat Information Center
UHC Relentless
“She’s breaking up, sir,” Winterton said solemnly.
Husher watched, helpless, as the Providence came apart at the seams. The image was getting smaller and smaller as the supercarrier fell behind. What was left of the battle group was similarly in tatters and trailing behind.
In the meantime, the Yin battleship was closing in on the moon.
For what felt like the millionth time, Husher wondered if the Yin research was right. Could it be that they were wrong, and that this moon wasn’t the home of the hive mind?
But he put those worries aside. Just as when he’d attacked the first hive mind they’d ever encountered, in the asteroid belt around Scion space, they’d known that they were headed in the right direction when the Brood had begun to throw everything they had at them to stop them.
And the same thing, on a much larger scale, was happening here.
No, there was no game afoot here. This was no wrong lead. This was the final AI, and it was throwing everything it had at them to stop them.
Which meant they had to succeed.
“Sir, reading energy fluctuations from the Providence.”
Husher nodded. He could see that as well.
“The core,” Shota said from Tactical. “It’s going nova.”
Sure enough, a moment later, a spectacular blast of light and energy played across the screen.
Then, just as quickly as the flash appeared, it was gone again. And in its place, the screen showed only debris accelerating away from what had once been the Providence.
Husher slumped back in his chair. He was sure that had anyone been looking at him, they would have seen their captain with his jaw hanging open.
Iver was gone. The Providence was gone. The enormity of it hit him squarely in the chest.
In some perverse way that probably wouldn’t make sense to anyone but him, he felt proud of Iver’s sacrifice.
And the ultimate sacrifice it must have been, for he’d not been on an escape pod. He’d been in the CIC when the reactor had exploded.
He’d gone down with the ship. So had his officers, and much of the crew. Even those who’d left in escape pods faced an uncertain future.
There was a long line of material strewn in the wake of the crumbling battle group, a string of escape pods and dead spacecraft—people desperately clinging to life.
The Brood took no prisoners. There would be no picking up those that abandoned ship.
It wasn’t just pride Husher felt for Iver. It was admiration, too. In the end, despite his views of the admiral, the man had done what had to be done.
And now it was up to the Relentless to finish the job.
“Sir,” Shota said, and the sadness in his voice told Husher that he, too, was feeling the loss of the supercarrier, in spite of his fraught relationship with the admiral. Or perhaps he just respected Husher and his relationship with the old man.
“Yes, XO?”
“I’m holding off firing for the moment. But we’re fully cycled and charged.”
Husher understood instantly what he was saying. They were within a single recharging cycle of their destination. No reason to keep firing at the Stomachs ahead of them now. No reason to chance taking another shot and wasting another power cycle.
They were charged and ready. This shot, the one they had left, had a single target. The only target.
Husher glanced up at the damage assessment board. Unlike on human ships, it gave him precious little information. Calder couldn’t work miracles. There was just no way to know the exact condition of the alien ship. For all he knew, the reactor could be breached at any moment. The ship could buckle at any moment. The weapon could lose the power it needed at any moment.
He sent up a silent prayer. They just had to hold on a few more minutes.
That wasn’t asking too much.
Was it?
Chapter 58
Oneiri Team
UHC Relentless
“I’m sending you our coordinates now,” Jake heard over the com link. It was Steam, and her voice was low. Reserved. He didn’t need to be told why. There were four members of Oneiri Team left now. Zeph, Moonboy, Steam, and Jake. Jake barely counted himself, though he had no idea of the condition of the rest of the mechs. For all he knew, they were in as bad a shape as he was. He’d seen Moonboy floating away from the ship with extensive damage to his mech’s arms and legs.
Jake landed his own battered mech on the surface of the Relentless. He hesitated to even call it a hull, now. What was left of it was in tatters, and there were huge sections missing where it looked like it had simply collapsed inward. In other places, the alien acid had eaten through to the interior. Several of the pulse cannons now stuck up at odd angles, with parts hanging off.
He eased himself through one of the many hull breaches and into the Relentless herself. He worked his mech around the many metal rods and jagged pieces obstructing his path. His speed picked up as he progressed farther in, and soon he was running—fast enough that he nearly crashed through a squad of marines.
“Holy shit,” he yelled, ducking sideways and just managing to evade them. The marines hadn’t even seen him. They weren’t looking at him, and he realized now what had their attention.
Crawling out of a huge breach farther down the passage were a dozen Wayfarers. The marines were trying to keep them pinned, but it was a futile effort with those numbers.
A trio of rockets flew over Jake’s mech and hit the Wayfarers, sending several of them flying. He turned to find Steam jogging up behind him, with her shoulder-mounted rocket cradle smoking.
“That was the last of mine,” she said.
Jake had spent the last of his rockets an hour ago, and he marveled at Ash’s ability to ration them. Standing beside her, Zeph was empty, too. She was also missing an arm. That was better than Moonboy, who had no arms and was left to limp along on one working leg.
Jake wondered if he looked as bad as that. Considering he also had no working arms and one working leg, not to mention the acid bath he’d received across the chest of his own mech, he had a feeling he probably looked worse.
That either mech still functioned on any level was a miracle. His own HUD had been flashing angry red warnings at him for the last fifteen minutes.
Jake switched over to the marines’ channel and heard the voice of Major Gamble screaming out orders.
“Major, where do you want us?” he asked.
“Anywhere you can get in the way of those damn things,” Gamble said. “The only advantage we have is knowing exactly where they’re trying to go.”
“How many are inside the ship?” Jake fell into a diamond formation with the other three mechs. Without prompting, Steam took point. Her mech was in the best shape, so it made the most sense.
“Too many to say now,” Gamble said grimly. “Last report, we had at least four separate incursions with a dozen Wayfarers each on average.”
That was upwards of fifty of them. Fifty of these creatures were actually inside the ship! The thought was staggering.
‘“We’ll form a defensive line around the reactor,” Jake said. “You can set up and push them toward us, getting as many as you can in the process.”
“We can help hold the line.”
“No. We can handle hand-to-hand with these things. You can’t. You’ll get overrun. Your firepower is better served to funnel them to us and take out as many as you can from your position. Let us take them on directly.”
Gamble was silent for a moment, then said, “Very well.”
Jake’s HUD lit up with an overlay of the huge chamber they were in as he got down on his one good knee. “Who has what left?” he called over the team-wide channel.
“I have everything but rockets,” Steam said. “Zeph has autocannons. Moonboy has his rifle.”
“And half an arm to shoot it with,” Moonboy put in.
Jake saw that Moonboy had managed to wedge the weapon into his arm, near where it had been lopped off by one of Woe’s appendages. No doubt he’d activate the rifle remotely.
“As long as you can fire it, you’re doing better than me.” Jake had nothing but his hands, which didn’t work. He could swing his arms, at least, and he could get his power torches working. Which meant he’d have to get in very close to use his torch.
A torch that really wasn’t even meant for this kind of use.
“Here they come,” Steam said, as a dozen Wayfarers practically crawled over each other as they oozed out of a fracture in the passageway.
“Fire!” Gamble shouted, and the marines in positions along the far end of the empty storage area fired into the backs of the Wayfarers.
They killed two and slowed several others, but the rest just kept coming. Faster and faster.
Steam opened up with her autocannons, hitting them as they tried to open their mouths to spit acid. They fell in quick succession, but three more took their place, and as careful as Steam was with her firing, she couldn’t make perfect shots every time.
And she couldn’t stop some acid from coming their way.
“Heads up,” Jake shouted.
Zeph just barely dodged a stream of the corrosive stuff. Some of it splashed her shoulder, which hissed, immediately leaking hydraulic fluid.
Jake felt helpless as he watched Zeph and Moonboy firing on the aliens with much less success than Steam.
And more Wayfarers coming, of course. This last stand couldn’t last. He knew that.
They were going to lose the reactor and the ship.
Chapter 59
Combat Information Center
UHC Relentless
“How long, Shota?”
Husher felt, for perhaps the first time, that the Yin battle cruiser was actually bucking under him. And he knew it wasn’t the plasma cannon firing this time. It was the impact of the fighting outside the ship—and possibly inside it, too.
All the Brood were now focused on the ship. That wasn’t new. But with almost no supporting ships and precious little air group remaining, they were battering her badly.
“Give me your best guess,” Husher said. “And don’t tell me we aren’t close.”
“We’re very close,” Shota said. “I’m not entirely clear on how close, considering the mass.”
“But we’re close enough to target it?”
Shota glanced at Winterton. “Absolutely. But we’re trying to analyze the composition of the moon. Best guess is another minute or so, to be sure.”
Husher was glad to know that if they fired right this second they’d hit the moon, but he also didn’t want to waste their single cycled shot without doing all the damage they could. It was highly likely they’d never get the chance to take a second shot.
“Keep pushing it,” he said to Moens. “We have to get as close as we can. Before—"
The ship rocked hard.
“Sir, the marines report heavy engagement around the reactor,” Long said. “They also report that at least some portion of Brood units appear to be heading toward the bow of the ship.”
That’s new. The Brood seemed driven to destroy the reactors, but apparently they also understood that the CIC was the nerve center of the ship.
“Major Gamble is asking whether they should pursue.”
Husher could feel Shota’s eye on him. Without warning, a memory flashed through his mind, of Woe ripping him right out of the command chair. His officers had to be thinking along the same lines: the Brood were coming for them again.
“No,” Husher said at last. “Those marines are to prioritize the reactor’s defense above all else. Under no circumstances are they to deploy forces anywhere else.”
Long nodded, spun in his chair, and relayed the orders.
Husher sat back and nodded toward Shota, who seemed calmer with the decision than Husher had expected. But his XO appeared to be over his earlier fear. In some ways, perhaps they all were. The story of the Providence was a galvanizing event, and not just for Husher, he realized. They’d all known this was likely a one-way mission, but now they were sure of it. If that meant the Brood attacked them here in the CIC, then so be it.
“If that hatch is breached, you fire at the moon,” Husher said to Shota.
“Understood, sir,” he snapped back. “We’re close, now. I think if we had to, we could fire and have a good chance of doing serious damage.”
“I don’t want serious damage,” Husher growled. “I want total destruction.” He rose and strode across the CIC to the small arms locker. He quickly distributed handguns to his officers.
With that, he turned to Winterton. “What’s your assessment of the distance?”
“We need thirty more seconds to be absolutely sure.”
Every second represented an enormous risk. “Any moment you hear anything from the marines, you shout it out, Long.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Twenty seconds, sir,” Winterton said.
Something hard slammed into the CIC’s hatch. Husher heard a muffled yell, followed by a scream from one of the marines defending the hatch. Then came the unmistakable sound of weapons fire. Then more silence.
Something smashed into the hatch again, denting the metal. Somehow, it held.
“Winterton?” Husher asked as he turned toward the hatch, sidearm raised. Shota, Moens, and Winterton couldn’t be spared from their duties, but Husher could. Of everyone on the CIC, nobody needed him pushing a button to fire the damn plasma cannon.
“Ten seconds, sir,” he said.
“I’d suggest we’re likely in range now,” Shota said.
“Certainly possible,” Winterton conceded.
“I don’t want possible,” Husher said.
Something charged the hatch once again, and one of the hinges came loose. The hatch still didn’t give way. But whatever had hit it kept pushing, and the remaining hatch bent slowly inward.
Tendrils poked through, and Husher glimpsed a Wayfarer’s slavering, tooth-filled maw. He sighted down the handgun’s barrel. If he could see teeth, that meant the creature’s mouth was open and acid was sure to follow.
He exhaled and calmly began emptying the handgun’s magazine down the alien’s throat.
Teeth shattered inward, and the third shot made the head recoil. The creature sagged backward, then fell out of view.
A second took its place.
Seventeen rounds left. That was assuming the handgun had been fully loaded, which it should have been.
Husher fired again. This time, it took four rounds to defeat the alien attempting to breach the CIC and tear each of his officers limb from limb.
When it fell, another Wayfarer immediately took its place.
“We’re in range!” Winterton exclaimed.
“Agreed,” Shota said. Without waiting for an order from Husher, he shouted, “Firing!”
Husher felt the floor under him move, accompanied by the now-familiar wrenching sound as the ship’s superstructure groaned with the massive weapon’s discharge.
He was thrown off his feet, and his handgun left his hands. The hatch finally collapsed inward under the mounting pressure of the Brood creatures behind it, and several of the hideous hell-spawn fell over each other as they spilled into the CIC.
From behind Husher, more slugs tore into them, and he saw that Shota had jumped from behind the Tactical station and was screaming as he sent a steady stream of fire at the creatures.
The nearest one crumpled. The one behind it tried to fire acid, but by then Husher had recovered his own weapon. He planted four rounds into its gaping mouth in quick succession. It fell sideways as two more followed it in.
“Direct hit,” Winterton said. “The moon is starting to—”
Whatever Winterton had to say about the moon was lost to Husher as he kept firing on the Wayfarers at the hatch.
Then, without warning, the creatures stopped their advance.
For a moment, Husher got the impression they were exchanging dazed looks, as though they’d just woken up and weren’t sure where they were.
Then they started moving again, but in a completely uncoordinated way. A moment ago they’d been united in their effort to get into the CIC, but now they seemed to all be working toward independent goals: some trying to get in, while others tried to push back out into the corridor.
Husher and Shota didn’t need an invitation. They advanced on the Wayfarers together, firing into the confused group of Brood.
