by T. Y. Carew
A blast from the Beltine aimed at the top of the rocky wall behind the Contessa's crew sent rocks, pebbles and dust raining down on Xander and the others.
“So, something with a little more power?” Trey said.
“Whatever it is, it’s just another weapon,” Xander said. Just another complication to this crappy day. “Matt, can you get to them with your zappers?”
“Of course.” She launched two of the tiny but lethal devices.
***
Matt guided the zappers by the view through her flying eyes. She circled them around from two directions and aimed at the outermost Dairos. As she sent them in for the kill, the two elite Dairos swatted them down and crushed them under the heavy soles of their boots. Matt felt a sting as control of the Adamanta zappers was forcefully taken away from her.
“They killed them!” She turned and looked at Xander in bewilderment. “My zappers still had a fairly good charge on them, but those creeps didn’t even get stung.” Feeling the need for caution, she pulled her cameras back a little way.
“You’ve lost zappers before,” Xander said, peeking over one of the rocks.
“As fast as these were flying, the Kyraos controlling these Dairos shouldn’t have had time to see them, let alone move the Dairos to intercept them.”
“Perhaps these are Kyraos two-point-oh,” Trey said.
“Now you sound like Drew,” Matt said, before she caught herself. If it was possible, their mood grew even darker.
“They aren’t showing themselves,” Xander said, again peering over the rock.
Matt sent two of her swords flying high overhead and brought them down fast. The Dairos she was aiming for jerked out of the way, but she beheaded another on her upswing.
“This is crazy. They dodged my falling swords.”
“Every battle is a new situation,” Xander said.
Matt did not feel reassured.
“Xander,” Trey said, nodding toward the Beltine pod.
“Holy crap,” Xander said.
Matt followed his gaze. Three Kyraos were coming down the ramp from the pod. They were carrying shields. Matt reached out with her mind.
“Those shields are made of Adamanta,” she said, uncomfortable with her own conclusion.
“That hardly makes them impenetrable,” Trey said.
“They create interference with our control of our own Adamanta. It doesn’t make the fight impossible, but it really pisses me off.”
“What about the guns the Dairos are using?” Xander asked, concern in his eyes.
Matt closed her eyes and reached out with her mind, feeling for the mysterious metal.
“They do have an Adamanta component,” she said.
“Do you think you could do something with that?”
“Maybe. I might be able to disarm them. We would need to be ready to strike immediately after.”
“The element of surprise could take away some of their edge,” Trey said.
“On three,” Xander said.
Matt reached out, gently touching the Adamanta in the guns with her mind. At the count, she yanked them out of the hands of the Dairos and as far from them as she could before dropping them in order to focus on her own weapons.
Xander and Trey rolled out from behind the cover of rocks, opening fire on the confused Dairos, while Matt brought two of her swords in from behind them.
Gritting her teeth, Matt put all of the strength she could muster into the swords. She felt resistance against her blades from whoever was trying to control them, but she didn’t care. Momentum was on her side.
The Adamanta swords sliced vertically through two of the Beltine drones. If there was a possibility of having a psychological effect on Dairos, that move would have unnerved them, but no such luck.
Three of the elite fighters remained, but they had lost their primary weapons and seemed confused. Their lasers were a dozen yards away and the merely charged the humans as if they were invincible.
Xander managed to get a lucky shot through the throat of a Dairos, leaving only two.
The three Kyraos stood on the ramp of their ship observing the battle. One turned and re-entered the craft. They seemed uninterested in joining the fight directly.
Matt scissored her swords, cutting another Dairos in half at the waist. Again, one of the Kyraos returned to their lander.
“I’ve got to reload,” Xander yelled.
Matt sent her swords at the last remaining fighter. It deflected one and then the other with the armor on its forearms and then stopped, slowly crumpling to the ground. Trey’s dagger protruded from the side of its neck.
The last Kyraos returned to its ship.
“Hey!” Matt screamed. She was seething with anger. “Come back here. I’m not done with you yet.” Leaving all cover behind, she ran toward the Beltine pod.
Xander caught up and held Matt back or she might likely have rushed into the craft.
“I know you!” she yelled. “I know you!”
The lander fired its engines and Xander threw himself behind a boulder for cover from the hot exhaust, dragging Matt with him.
Matt reached out with her mind for any Adamanta she could contact in the Beltine ship. She visualized grasping a heavy piece of the metal she found within and yanked it with all of her strength, collapsing back to the ground with blood streaming down her face.
The landing pod rose up and arched into the sky. After a moment, it listed to starboard. A second later a huge blast ripped it apart.
***
Lady Contessa and crew headed back into open space, leaving the people on Alton Three to bury their dead.
“How is Matt doing?” Xander asked Tyra when she returned from sickbay.
“She’s weak and frustrated,” Tyra said. “She says the Beltine keep coming up with new tricks faster than we can learn to fight them with what we’ve got. At least we got the dried blood washed out of her hair. I think she will sleep now.”
Xander nodded, not daring to answer lest his voice reveal how worried he was. He moved to the copilot chair and gave Tyra back the helm.
“Colonel, two ships have entered our space,” Trey said. “They appear to be ours.”
“Ah, good. Give them our position and the status of the enemy ship.”
“Already done,” Trey said. “There’s a call coming in from the Stanley.”
“Put it onscreen,” Xander said. The Stanley was a large hospital ship that had been in service for decades. After a recent refitting, it was now under a combined military and commercial registration. It was one of Simon’s early acts of philanthropy, although Xander saw it more as a publicity move.
“Colonel Finlay,” a cheery voice said. The face on the screen belonged to a woman around Xander’s own age, with long brown hair drawn to the side, and a deep complexion.
“Major Barns,” Xander responded, thinking that maybe he should have taken the call in his quarters. “Most of the crew of the carrier Carson is adrift out there, as well as our own technician. Time is running out fast.”
“Understood,” the major said. “And the Beltine ship is out of commission?”
“We believe so. We will keep an eye on them, but until we rescue all of our people we can’t take time to board her and flush out any remaining aliens.”
“The Wayans is already tracking escape pods and we are launching our landing pods to help us cover as much sky as possible,” Barns said. “We’re sending you our vectors so we don’t duplicate efforts.”
“Thank you, Major.” Xander signed off and turned to Tyra.
“You know I’m already on it,” she said, giving him a wink that was unnervingly reptilian.
Chapter 7
40 hours, 11 minutes, 58 seconds
Drew drifted in a semi-conscious state. He imagined himself in a sort of twilight, not dark, but not bright. When he slept, he dreamed only of the cool grayness, and when he awoke, he saw the same thing. His thoughts were no longer about anything. They were simply the same gr
ay twilight of sleep.
Waking would have only made him aware of the sticky humidity around him and the thick stale air. In the tiny pod, drowning was a painfully long process.
***
Xander felt that he simply had no time to waste on anything other than the rescue, and it was pretty clear his Lentarin crewmates felt the same. The wound on Trey’s shoulder was bad—bad enough to sideline most humans, at least—but he and Tyra had not taken the time to join in healing it. Xander had worked with the twins long enough that he could tell if one of them was in pain, and Trey was definitely in pain.
In the time since the Carson blew up, the escape pods had drifted far from the point of launch. Trey located the nearest beacon, but it still took Contessa more than half an hour to intercept it. Bringing it aboard took another ten minutes.
“Head for the next one,” Xander said. “I’ve got this.” He hurried to the cargo bay. Breaking the seals on the tiny craft, he pressed the release and the pod opened. It was not Drew.
The occupant raised her arms and caught Xander around the neck. She squeezed him tight and began to sob and blubber.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said.
“It’s… um… you’re welcome,” Xander responded. “I’m Colonel Finlay of the ship Lady Contessa.”
“Ensign Barkley,” the woman said between sobs, “reporting for duty.”
Xander helped her out of the tight containment, but she was not able to stand. So much time unable to move had left her stiff and numb. Laying her on the floor with her back propped against the pod, Xander retrieved a folding gurney. He helped her onto it and wheeled her to sickbay.
“I’m sorry I can’t do more right now,” he told her. “We’ve got a lot of people to retrieve.”
“Go,” she said. “I can wait.”
The next pod retrieved held one of Carson’s bridge crew, a first lieutenant named Obermeyer. He had extensive burns to his arms and Xander shuddered to think how he must have suffered in his tiny hell. Xander carefully helped the man from his tomb, trying not to cause him any more pain. Once, when the man gasped, Xander apologized profusely.
“I am so, so sorry,” he said. “Let’s get you to sickbay. I’ll try not to hurt you anymore.”
The man gave him a brave face, but said nothing.
Xander got him on the gurney and moved him from the cargo hold. Once at sickbay, he found Matt tending to Ensign Barkley, helping her drink water from a cup.
Matt gave Xander a flat smile.
“Shouldn’t you be resting?” he asked.
“I’m better, and I need to help,” she said. “I couldn’t just do nothing.”
They gingerly slid the injured man from the gurney to a bed. Matt pulled an aerosol from a cabinet and sprayed the man’s burns.
“That should help in a few minutes. Let me get you on an IV.”
Xander watched her insert a needle into a vein on the man’s leg and started the flow from a bag of electrolytic water. Obermeyer relaxed almost instantly, closing his eyes in relief.
“Here, suck on this.” Matt put a soaked sponge to the man’s dry, cracked lips.
“Boss, we just reeled in another one,” Tyra’s voice spoke over the comm.
“On it,” Xander responded.
He hurried back to the cargo bay, entering as soon as it was pressurized. The grappling arm was just releasing the pod.
Xander released the latches and broke the seals. He didn’t hear the familiar hiss of equalizing pressure. As he raised the lid, he stopped. Inside the pod was a desiccated corpse. The lid had failed to seal and nearly two days in the near vacuum of space had drawn all of the moisture from the body’s tissues.
For a moment, all Xander could do was squeeze his eyes shut and say a small prayer. When he reopened his eyes, he saw the name on the uniform. Reed. At first he was relieved and thankful, but then Xander felt extremely guilty.
“I’m sorry, Reed. I didn’t mean to be glad you’re dead. I’m just glad you weren’t somebody else.”
“Colonel?” Trey’s voice over the comm.
Xander groaned to himself. He’d forgotten his channel was open.
“Sorry. I was talking to someone else.”
He closed the pod and latched it shut. Using the grappler, he moved it aside and placed it against a bulkhead. Then he left the bay so that Trey and Tyra would be able to bring in another pod.
Xander headed to the sickbay to see how Mattie was doing. As he entered, she looked up at him expectantly. He just shook his head sadly.
“You know?” Matt said, as she bandaged Lieutenant Obermeyer’s burns. “At the time I didn’t want to take the medic classes, but now I’m thankful I did. I can’t imagine how useless I would feel right now if I didn’t know what to do.”
As she finished up, Xander nodded his head solemnly. It had been a long time since his first aid class. He was overdue for a refresher. It was already clear to him that he wouldn’t have known half of the things Matt was doing. He’d come to think of the Lentarin twins as his medical staff.
“Colonel, we’re bringing in another one,” Trey’s voice said in his ear.
***
47 hours, 36 minutes, 9 seconds
***
In the time since the Stanley had arrived, three more ships had joined the search. The navigator on the Wayans coordinated the hunt, to ensure that no efforts were duplicated and no area was left uncovered.
The Contessa had taken as many pods aboard as possible and Trey and Tyra assisted Matt in the sickbay while Xander piloted the ship. With all other craft occupied in the rescue efforts, it fell to Xander to keep watch for any Beltine arrivals in the area.
Everything looked clear and it was evident that the hive ship was adrift. No nasty surprises there.
Xander stared at the chronometer on the console and tried to will it to slow down. The search ships needed as much time as possible. It had been a while since Xander had been in the driver’s seat, so he made a point of following a mental checklist. He moved his eyes from one gauge to another, from readout to readout, from one display to another. As he did so, he wondered how many of the capsules had been recovered, and how many were still out there adrift. He could not imagine what it must be like trapped in such a tiny space, waiting hour after hour for rescue. It must be maddening, he thought.
While the other ships worked in three-dimensional grids, Xander followed patrol protocol. He had to keep track of every ship in the rescue party and watch for any enemy craft that might appear and begin stalking one of them. It kept his mind occupied and kept his eyes off the clock.
“Boss,” Tyra said quietly. He hadn’t noticed her come in.
“How’s Matt?” he asked. “Is Trey’s arm going to be okay?”
“They’re both doing fine. Trey will be good as new. Lentarins don’t scar.” She smiled. “Are you alright? You haven’t slept for days.”
“I’m okay.”
“Maybe you should go to your bunk and try to sleep for a few minutes.”
“I can’t.” Xander looked at her with all of the pain and fatigue he felt showing in his face. “Until we know…” He trailed off, turning his eyes away.
“I understand. At least let me take the helm.”
“You haven’t slept either.”
“I’m Lentarin. We’re sort of superhuman.” She laughed and it made Xander laugh too.
He put his head against Tyra’s shoulder and closed his eyes.
“I try to be in control. I try to stay detached. All I can think of is I want Drew home. Home! How military is that?”
“Not very,” Tyra said. “You try to be a hard ass, but we’re all just so loveable, how can you resist us?”
“Now you’re just being silly.”
“Attention,” a voice came over the ship-to-ship channel. “This is Colonel Brackett of the Wayans. As of now, this is no longer a rescue mission. All lifeboats not recovered shall be left adrift and will be memorialized at a later time. T
hat is all.”
Xander stared at the chronometer. It had been forty-eight hours and ten minutes.
“How can they just—” He looked at Tyra, wanting to plead for more time. “Isn’t there a chance?”
“Boss,” Tyra said quietly. She put her arms around Xander and held him.
Time passed and Xander just felt numb. He didn’t dare let himself lose control of his emotions, but he was so close to breaking down.
“Xander?” Major Barns’ voice came over the Contessa’s comm channel. “I think we’ve got one of your people over here.”
Xander sat up straight.
“Is he—?”
“He’s in pretty bad shape. I’m not going to kid you. They’re taking him into surgery right now.”
“Surgery?” Tyra spoke.
“He has a bad head injury,” Barns said. “They need to relieve the pressure from the swelling of his brain.”
“But he’s alive,” Xander said, unable to keep the relief from his voice.
“Did you get that?” Tyra asked.
“We did,” Trey’s voice came over the comm.
Xander switched off the feed to his crew’s comms.
“How many?” he asked.
“Counting those aboard your ship, we rescued sixty-five. Nearly a dozen pods malfunctioned, so make that eleven bodies recovered.”
“Damn,” Xander said under his breath.
“We’ve been ordered to proceed to Netera,” Barns said. “Maybe I’ll see you while we’re there. This is the Stanley, signing off.”
The comm went dead.
***
“Colonel Finlay,” General Kelton spoke from the display. “I’m sending orders for you to proceed to Netera immediately. I’ll expect a full report shortly thereafter. I’m sure you can use some rest first.”
“Yes, sir,” Xander said. “Thank you, sir. What about Alton Three and the disabled Beltine ship?”
“There should be a destroyer arriving almost immediately to take over guard duty and we have space tugs on the way to bring back the hive ship. Oh, and we have a survey crew en route to Nine-Five-Nine A. Now get your ass back here. I’ll see you soon.”