Starforge unsec space bo.., p.4
Starforge (UNSEC Space Book 3), page 4
She couldn’t say if anyone had heard her. The drone was getting louder, definitely coming from the comm channel as an alert on her hud warned her of major interference.
Jamming. Something is jamming us.
They were almost at the loading bay doors, running as fast as they could. More screeches and bangs were echoing from behind them, and a few of them sounded decidedly … Organic.
Some sort of UNSEC bioweapon? Is that why they fired on the ship? To seed it with these things?
But that didn’t make sense. Those were weapon scars, not indents from some sort of boarding system. But if UNSEC was shooting at them …
“Close the doors!” She gestured, what was left of the squad spreading out and rushing past the old boot barricade as they neared the loading dock. “We’ve got to slow them down!” She broke to her left, heading for the far side of the dock and slapping her hand down on the button to close the doors before jumping down onto the ramp. Her hand stung with the impact. Thin metal. It won’t hold them for long, but …
The barricades! A small part of her wished she’d ordered someone to grab the heavy gun earlier but at the time it hadn’t seemed important. With that thing, we could hold one of the barricades in the street—
A flash of movement caught her eye, and she jerked, bringing her rifle up as something soared over the rooftops, landing halfway up a building across the street and somehow clinging to the side. It was long, with spindly legs and a narrow body that seemed to be pulsing as it turned in her direction. She paused ever so slightly, eyeing the strange thing as its jaws folded back. “What the—?”
There was a sudden, wet coughing noise as the thing convulsed, a brief glimpse of something coming out of its mouth, a sense of pain—
And then nothing at all.
PART ONE
Chapter 1
“Jake! Go!”
The hab’s emergency evacuation hatch blew outward on explosive bolts, exposing a hellish landscape bathed in fire and smoke. The radiation alarms in his suit spiked, warning Jake that if he took off or punctured it, he’d be exposed to lethal levels in minutes.
A glance at the alerts was all he could spare as he almost spilled out onto the roof of the hab, barrel of his Rezzer up and hunting for targets. It was a work of moments, the All horde already reacting to the appearance of their prey atop the hab arms. He almost squeezed the trigger, but then hesitated. How many shots do I have left? Something was wrong with the readout on his hud, the numbers fuzzy and inconsistent. Better to save his shots then.
Instead he turned, checking that the rest of the expedition was making its way out behind him. Botha, Kombes, Morel. The names flashed through his mind as he watched them climb out.
Just get them to the end of the arm. Help is coming.
The ground shook again, the roof of the hab lurching violently as another aftershock rippled through the surface of Livingstone. Ground cracked and split around the hab, smoke and embers spewing into the air as the soil swallowed a number of All.
“Go!” He wasn’t sure who had shouted, but he obeyed, springing away from the center of the hab and out along one of the arms. The metal beneath his boots was scarred and pitted, burned by All acids and the barrage of claws it had barely repulsed. Around the hab the seething mass of alien flesh was responding to the team’s appearance, hoppers bounding over the ground in their direction in an endless tide of armored orangish-brown.
One hopper leaped, rising over the edge of the arm with its long, toothy maw exposed. He fired, flechettes cutting the creature in half. The sounds of SMG fire echoed from behind him as Anna brought her own weapons to bear, spraying the onrushing horde and eliciting puffs of orange ichor.
“Go!” Again a part of him wondered who was yelling, but there was no time to pause or do anything else but heed the cry. The jungle around the hab was a smoldering inferno, flattened and inflamed by the detonations around the planet’s equator. Another hopper leaped atop the arm, baring its talons at him, and his Rezzer kicked, shredding it. The fuzzy number on his hud flickered.
There were just so many more of the things.
Movement at the edge of what had once been the clearing around the hab caught his eye, and he spun just in time to see a trio of slingers open their strange, articulated jaws. Somehow he knew exactly who they were aiming at, and he turned, shouting a cry of warning.
It was already too late. Kombes and Botha were both down, venomed bonespikes jutting out of their environment suits and dripping blood. As he watched, a trio of spikes tore through Lankiss’s faceplate, the geologist’s eyes giving him a final, accusing stare as she slumped.
“Go!” Again the voice pushed him on, and he turned once more, ignoring the rain of spikes that filled the air around him, each a narrow miss. More hoppers began to clog the arm ahead, and he fired again and again.
Who’s left? Another scream echoed from behind him, and he knew who had died without even looking.
Johan. Bonespikes.
Trying to save Botha.
Something about that thought seemed off, but Jake couldn’t place it, and he pushed it away as more hoppers crowded the impossibly long arm. He kept firing, working his way forward step by bloody step.
The VTOL will be here soon. And we’ll make it out. As if summoned by his thoughts, a faint light began to glow in the sky, different in color and hue from the burning rocks descending around it. Someone behind him let out a cheer as they saw it as well.
“Go!”
Again the voice pushed him on, and he moved forward with precise, mechanical precision, firing again and again, completely unsure of how many spent shells or twitching, alien bodies he’d left behind him. He spotted a few serpentine diggers amidst the seething tide of alien bodies, coiling and twisting toward him with claws extended, and he cut them down as well.
Why are they on the roof? They tunnel.
But they’d jumped onto the roof from beneath the ground. He remembered that. But hadn’t that been before the All had launched its ships? To get past the fences?
There was no time to think on it. The VTOL was getting closer now, shifting from a faint speck of glowing light to a sleek, angular aircraft: A Pisces manufactured dropship, bristling with weapons. Jake fired again, clearing another cluster of hoppers and bringing his position closer to the nearing aircraft. A faint hiss sounded through the chaos as one of the expedition members triggered a flare, guiding the dropship in.
Jake fired again, removing the last few All from their path to the end of the hab arm. The dropship was close now, the hum of its engines audible. He lowered his Rezzer for a brief moment, looking up at the aircraft’s angular lines and clean exterior.
That’s not Grady’s dropship. Something was wrong. We never—
A black cloud erupted from the ground, twisting and cutting through the air as it rushed for the VTOL. There was just enough time to shout in warning before the swarm slammed into the side of the aircraft, thousands of tiny, metal-laced insect bodies engulfing it and clawing at the surface.
But it was the ones that sacrificed themselves to the engines that did the most damage, their bodies dying in the hundreds as they threw themselves into intakes and cut through shielding. One of the VTOL’s jets cut out, flame belching from the bottom and roasting more of the swarm.
They didn’t care. Like the rest of the All, they were legion. Another engine began to fail, the VTOL slowly going into a spin, and Jake let out a shout of dismay.
There weren’t any swarms on Livingstone. Not up close.
The VTOL slammed into the ground, flattening more All as the last of its engines failed completely. Bonespikes flew through the air in increased numbers, and Jake dropped to the surface of the hab, lowering his profile atop the pitted metal. The All surged forward on all sides, emboldened by the destruction of the dropship.
This is it. We’re not making it out of here. He fired from his prone position, again and again as more All boiled out of the flattened forest, coming from all directions.
But we did?
Ikeda went down, screaming in agony as a panther bore her to the ground and ripped off her head. Jake fired, the flechettes biting through the creature’s armored hide but not enough to stop it. Another panther leapt atop the hab, this one landing on top of Silva and putting an end to the man’s screams with a burst of bonespikes from its jaws.
Then he and Anna were the only two members left, separated by a hundred feet or more of hab, both of them firing frantically. He stepped back, retreating before the advancing, numberless horde, only for his foot to find empty space. He tumbled backward, the wide jaws of a titan gaping beneath him—
And with a shout he bolted upright, the back of one hand smacking himself in the face before jerking away with a suddenness. He flailed for a moment, fighting a thin cloth that seemed to be wrapped around his legs and other arm, his body bouncing before his mind caught up. He stilled, lowering his limbs to the top of the bed and forcing himself to breathe.
Just a dream. Another nightmare.
He let out a long, smooth, steady breath. Just another nightmare.
And just when I was starting to get over having bad dreams about Pisces. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.
He let out a sigh and sat up, swinging his now unentangled legs over the edge of the bunk and cracking his heels against the baseboard. Brief flashes of pain flared up both limbs, and he let out a hiss.
Easy and slow, Jake, he reminded himself. You’re still not used to the augments yet. He sat in the darkness for a few seconds, the only light a faint, dim glow from a few nearby room controls, letting his heart rate slow. His cheek still stung where the back of his hand had smacked him. Maybe I should have taken Anna up on her joke about the sleeping straps.
At least, he was fairly certain she’d been joking. There was a very real chance she’d been serious. After all, they had me strapped when I woke up from the surgery.
And missed the whole galaxy going mad. He leaned slowly to his side, reaching out and tapping at the controls for the lights. Glowing particles swarmed into being at his approach, forming a dimmer panel. It was merely a projection rather than hard-light, and his finger slipped through the motes about a third of the way up. The cabin lights came on, illuminating his small living space with enough light for him to easily see by. Especially now that his eyes, like the rest of him, were modified. It wasn’t superhuman, but he had an easier time picking out shadows and dark objects in low light.
Across the cabin a splash of water caught his attention, and he jerked his gaze up—slow and steady, Jake—to see Mr. Happy wave a fin at him.
He smiled. “Hey there, Mr. Happy. Sorry about that.” The parrot-gold rolled twice to one side, a signal he’d long since learned meant concern. “Just a nightmare, buddy. Sorry to wake you.” He rose—Slowly!—and moved across the small room to where the fish’s tank sat on a shelf.
“I’m fine,” he said, bending down and giving the parrot-gold a good look at him through the glass, forcing himself to smile. “Just another bad dream.”
Mr. Happy stared at him for a moment, but then did a quick little spin.
“Yeah, all right you little con artist.” It had taken some work to find flakes for the parrot-gold, but it had turned out that keeping pet fish was a surprisingly common hobby on Pisces despite the massive protections meant to keep any of them from getting out.
Not that it matters up here, he thought as he shook a small batch of flakes into Mr. Happy’s tank. The parrot-gold let out an excited cluster of bubbles, a sign that he was pleased, and darted over to the descending flakes. The only way out has no atmosphere.
He stayed for a moment and watched the small fish eat. Color’s coming back into his fins, he noted. Scales are looking healthier too. The poor fish had been a wreck after he’d been abducted by Eidre, stuffed into a room somewhere and forgotten. His crest had been limp and colorless, his body malnourished.
What kind of a person does that to someone’s pet? The only reason Mr. Happy hadn’t died a despondent death was because Anna’s younger brother had cared for it during the abduction. Even then he was probably certain I was never coming back for him.
He stuck his hand into the tank, Mr. Happy ignoring the flakes for a moment and swimming over for a quick pet, brushing his body up against Jake’s finger. He kept fairly still, not wanting his new reflexes to harm the small creature, and instead smiled, rubbing the finger back and forth slowly.
“See buddy?” he said, peering through the glass. “It’s all right. I’m fine.” Physically, anyway. But his answer seemed to satisfy the fish, and it gave his finger a final tap before retreating to eat more of the flakes.
I’m glad I’ve got him back, Jake thought, pulling his hand from the tank and wiping it on a nearby towel. One thing from home, at least.
The only thing now. What few meaningful possessions he’d taken with him to Pisces had been lost on Livingstone, sacrificed amid their escape. Most had been replaceable, but the one that really hurt had been his mother’s old bible. Technically the family bible, but his mother’s notes and thoughts had been by far and away the most common across its pages. And since he’d been young—very young—when the riots had claimed them, those notes had been the way he’d known her best.
Granted, if he was lucky there was probably still a small storage locker on Earth, paid through the next ten years and occupied with a few things he hadn’t kept at his apartment. I’m probably not that lucky though. UNSEC likely raided that locker the same time they took Mr. Happy. He let out another sigh and then stepped to one side, pressing back the folding door that separated the tiny bedroom from the rest of his apartment aboard the Pisces orbital station.
Or maybe we should just call it “Didem,” he thought as the room’s lights came to life, matching the dim glow of his bedroom. On the wall to his left Mr. Happy flitted up to the glass, the fish tank set in the wall itself and serving to give its occupant a window to either room. An adjustment Didem had made after Jake had noted that Mr. Happy had grown agitated when left in one room or the other.
But he’s intelligent enough not to care about the bathroom, Jake thought as he walked over to the small kitchen and grabbed a glass from a cabinet. Smart little fish. He took care holding the cup to his mouth—Anna had only needed to show him a single picture of someone who’d forgotten their newly enhanced physique when moving a cup to their lips for him to get the idea—and drank eagerly, the cold water soothing his parched throat and restoring a sense of permanency to the apartment, washing away the dream.
He let another slow breath out as soon as he’d finished the cup, staring out across his quarters. It wasn’t much. A viewscreen. Some furniture. A table. The island where he could eat meals if he wanted, though the kitchen itself was unfurnished save the sink and countertop as of yet. Resources in the system were tight. Didem had promised them more at a future date.
If any of us survive, Jake thought as he took another sip of water, Mr. Happy watching from the side of the room. Or can afford to spend resources on something like a fridge.
He set the empty cup in the sink, gave it a quick rinse and then moved it to the side, where it could dry on the counter. Part of him wanted to crawl back into bed, but he knew he’d just lie there, awake, staring up into the darkness.
Instead, he ducked back into his bedroom long enough to grab a shirt and a pair of cotton sweats, tugging them on as Mr. Happy watched and then gave a curious bank to one side.
“I’m going to go out for a bit,” he said, looking at the small fish as he checked for socks and then decided not to bother. The floors of the station were spotless, especially where he was going. “I’ll be back.” He gave Mr. Happy a little wave and got one in return, then turned for the front door to the apartment, stepping out into the rest of the station.
Into one of the upper halls, to be specific. Didem had grown in the months since their team had first arrived on Pisces, and one of the changes she had made in addition to adding more living space was locking down some sections of the station. The section he, Anna, Sweets, and a host of other important people lived in was in the upper half, and locked away from the rest of the station by security measures. As were other specific floors and levels. Anyone getting into an elevator would be greeted by a selection panel that gave them access only to the areas they were allowed to enter, and if two people had different levels of clearance, the elevator would either drop off the ones with lower clearance at their destination first, or in the case of two disagreeing clearances, often didn’t even allow them to enter the same car in the first place, or used other methods to make certain no one ended up where they weren’t invited.
Not hard to do when you’re a level-ten AI who literally is the station, I guess, Jake thought as he padded down the hall, the bare metal cool against his feet but not cold. The hall lights were dim, reflecting the current night cycle aboard the station.
It was only a minute or two’s walk to his destination: An observation lounge on the edge of the level, a remnant of when the station had served as a temporary stop for colonists on their way down to Pisces’ surface. Didem had adapted it as the station expanded and grew, leaving it open to residents but with additional security should the need arise. Like armored shutters and security turrets to help prevent boarding.
Still, even during the station’s “night” with low lighting it was one of the more pleasant spaces aboard. Potted plants and a carpeted floor gave it a friendlier ambience, and the area was quite open—in part because a number of the seats and benches had been cannibalized for other projects. And the view through the glass …
Jake sat down on one of the couches, staring out the large window. One whole wall of the observation area was made up of massive slabs of glass easily twice his own height, offering a view of the stars matched only by those he’d seen aboard a UNSEC expedition ship. At the moment much of what was visible was taken up by the dark side of Pisces, a thin blue band of light barely visible on the far side of the windows, the rest a massive black space lit by faint flashes of lightning from the many storms covering the planet’s surface.
