She sees the shapes of Malignant marines slowly moving toward her. Power has kept many at bay, but he’s had to again shift his focus to the hallway back toward the breach. Julie fires her light machine gun at them and drops the front trio. The rest try to press against the wall or push back to the closest intersecting corridor. It delights Julie knowing that they must be extremely upset about not having the chance to engage at close range. Julie fires another burst, which expires her belt of ammunition. Two more marines die in the barrage. Julie swings back to cover and reloads with a new hundred-round box of belt-fed ammunition. She suddenly realizes that she never answered a question that Melissa apparently asked.
“What was that?” Julie shouts over a fresh burst of ammunition.
“I asked if it would matter when Malignant tend to sort their squads by similar powers.”
Shit, Julie thinks.
She hadn’t thought of that.
“Then I guess you’ll just give them to me when I ask for them. My augmentation is worthless now. Their leaders should still be useful. I’ll point someone out, and you take his power. Then we need to make sure that guy dies fast. We can’t let them get lucky and ask a question that’ll instantly be answered.”
“Got it,” Melissa says.
She fidgets with her shotgun. Julie made sure all the firearms the novices got were something that would make the fight easier for them.
Julie surveys her fighting positions. Rounds travel down all avenues of approach now except the long trek from the east. It won’t take long until the Malignant try that route, too. She looks at the pocket watch again. It looks like twelve minutes have passed. If the other Templars don’t get the message soon, this will all have been for nothing.
Dan stands nervously on the bridge of the Vengeful ISH. None of the other Templars present seem to notice or care. His heart leaps into his throat with each beat. They’re coming about ten a second, it seems. Dan looks around the bridge to see if anyone cares that he’s slowly worked toward the scanners to check on the Womb.
Votary and Flaimeson seem to be in a conversation about how great Abel is. Sometimes they feel like the same person when they get to speaking about which one is a better disciple. Abel, to his credit, just smiles as he stands in his gray hoodie. It’s definitely not what Dan considers heavenly attire. Smith and Mitch are flirting near the weapons station. The former SEAL never wants to be too far away from a weapon, it seems.
Satisfied that he’s not being watched, Dan types some commands on the keyboard added to the vapor board to see if he gets any power readings from the Womb. To his surprise, he doesn’t. Dan never believed that silly plan would work, but now he’s staring at proof it did. He knows what he must do.
“Holy shit!” Dan yells.
All eyes on the bridge turn to Dan.
“They did it!” Dan shouts. “They actually pulled that crazy shit off. We have to go and support them.”
“What the hell are you blabbering about?” Smith asks as he rises from his seat and joins Dan.
Smith looks at the readings and, to Dan’s immense joy, looks perplexed.
“Flaimeson?” Smith asks.
“What?”
“Shouldn’t we get a massive power reading from the Womb?”
“Of course. You do not power a vessel that large on hope.”
“Apparently, you can,” Smith says. “Check it out.”
Smith taps some keys, and the major view screen shows the same lifeless reading for all to see. Dan is proud of himself to get to share the message.
“It’s Julie,” Dan announces. “She took most of the Templars and attacked.”
Dan’s pride quickly turns to apprehension. He feels Votary’s armored glove grip him by the shoulder and turn him to face the lifeless gray helmet.
“How do you know this?” Votary demands.
“They left me behind to tell you when the power was down,” Dan stutters. “Without power, the web is down. We can hop to wherever we like and take them out. They’re sitting ducks thanks to James and Mary Lee.”
Dan is relieved when he sees the smile that crosses Smith’s face.
“Hell yeah, let’s go,” Smith says. “Everyone suit up.”
“I suppose we must,” Votary begrudgingly admits as he releases Dan.
The rookie Templar rubs away the pain from the armored grip.
“All Templars suit up and come to the bridge,” Votary announces into the communication station.
His order rings throughout the Vengeful ISH. Dan is pleased with himself and half expects a hero’s trophy when the battle is won.
“Wait,” Abel simply says.
Dan’s heart sinks as all activity ceases from a single syllable.
“What, Father?” Votary asks. “We don’t have time. We have to reinforce them.”
“I understand you believe that, but Flaimeson’s people are not in position. If you go now, you’ll most likely die before the true Gudz army is prepared. I hate to meddle with your plans, but this won’t work.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Smith says. “We already have troops in contact. We must help.”
“We do not know that,” Flaimeson says. “Julie apparently knew what she was doing and attacked after the scheduled comms check. They have about forty-five minutes left until they will be discovered by the rest of the fleet. We could recall them with their transporter tags.”
“And Mother will just consider this a scrimmage?” Dan asks, despite wanting to fade away.
“He’s right,” Smith says, supporting Dan. “The battle’s begun. Perhaps the only ones who know are the people on the Womb and us, but we have to commit to this.”
“I won’t allow you to throw your lives away like Julie just did. I can smooth this over with Ot Her. We must call them back.”
Flaimeson manipulates a few wisps from his vapor board.
“It is not working,” Flaimeson announces.
“Did you not hear me when I said Mag Pulse fried all circuitry over there?” Dan asks. “It would take an Abel portal to get them, and that would be cheating.”
Dan smugly crosses his arms, but a stern glance from Flaimeson and, he presumes, Votary, makes him readjust his posture.
“Are any other ships affected?” Mitch innocently asks.
Smith types away. His eyes light up with excitement when he gets the answer.
“Hell yeah there are. It looks like the five or six closest vessels are down, too. Where were those two when we needed them last time?”
“On this ship, jackass,” Dan says. “In a cell with me.”
“Oh yeah,” Smith says.
“Father, I believe we should have all the Templars suit up and assemble. We must fight now. Julie’s plan may just work,” Votary says.
“I’m sorry, Votary, I really am, but our best bet is to try and relax Ot Her’s frustrations,” Abel says.
“Then go get them, Abel,” Smith demands.
“I can’t,” Abel says. “That truly would be cheating.”
“Screw this, I’m getting dressed for battle. I won’t abandon my team. In twenty minutes you’re either going to send me over, or I’ll fly a ship there myself,” Smith announces.
“And get blown out of the air when the other ships see you leave?” Flaimeson asks. “I will commence with notifying my spies on the other ships, but it will take additional time than is available. Soon, this ship will be destroyed, but we can wait until the last second and get out.”
“Good, stay here,” Votary says. “Seal Pup and I will launch the rescue.”
“Hell yeah,” Smith agrees. “I knew you had my back.”
“No,” Abel simply says again.
Dan loses faith as he sees how easily Votary obeys.
“At least let us get ready and organize, Father,” Votary begs.
Abel creates a portal and vanishes. Dan is left wondering if his new friends will all die simply because nobody was willing to go and support them.
“Grenade!” Julie shouts as she tosses a simple fragmentation grenade at a squad of advancing marines.
They slide on the blood of their fallen before exploding. A simple weapon that would have been useless against their armor just adds to the body count and fills the air with their innards. Many blobs of blood float and mix with the spent shell casing in the gravity-free air; however, as the blood connects with the floor and walls, its adhesive nature takes hold and smears. Julie swats at the copious brass obscuring her vision.
“More coming from the south!” Greg shouts as he fires his carbine at a marine who poked her head out for too long.
“Shit,” Julie says. “Mr. Wiener, can you support?”
“Just say Power, Bitch. It’s a lot quicker.”
“Answer the damn question!”
“I got them.”
Knight Terror transforms his left arm into a mortar tube. He lobs several explosives down the hall. Julie feels the floor reverberate beneath her. The effectiveness gives Julie an idea as she hears shots ring out from all around her.
“Mr. Wiener, can you make us some proximity mines?” Julie asks.
“You know I can,” Knight Terror answers.
“Good. I want you to fire a dozen at both our west and east positions. They’re getting too close now. We need to focus just north and south of us.”
“Okay, but I’m getting hungry. I’ve gotta pace myself.”
Knight Terror transforms both arms and lobs the Gudz technology proximity mines. The first batch explode as soon as they arm themselves. Apparently several Malignant were approaching as she gave the order. Julie indicates for Knight Terror to send another wave of explosives. She sees them glow blue with lights as they activate and magnetically set. The glow alone should give pause to any Malignant approach. Julie considers having them surround them at every position, but Knight Terror quickly shoots down the idea without being asked.
“I can’t have more than about twenty of these at a time. I’d have to reduce armor if I wanted more.”
“You’ve done enough, Mr. Wiener. We can relax a little now in our diligence with the eastern and western approach of this hallway.”
Julie looks at her watch again. The minute hand is visibly resting on the six. The Templars should have arrived by now. It’s possible they’re in a different part of the ship, but Julie’s gut tells her that someone would have brought them fresh armor with functional cells. They probably haven’t left, and Julie needs to find out why if she wants to keep her promise of some of them surviving.
“Mr. Wiener, can you make a comms array for us?” Julie asks.
“Yes, but that means less mines or less cannons. You gotta pick, girl.”
“Take away the proximity mines. We could do with just four at each position.”
“Okay.”
Julie hears the premature explosions of a layer of her defense. It hurts her to sacrifice them, but communication is always a top priority.
Knight Terror runs across the intersection to Julie’s side. He fires both assault cannons as he does and clears the path of more marines bold enough to advance. He stops next to Julie and transforms his shoulder into a satellite dish. Julie laughs as she picks a corded phone receiver from his back and holds it to her ear.
“Will this be traced?” Julie asks.
“Girl, have a little faith in me. My shit don’t get traced.”
“Good enough for me,” Julie says. “Vengeful ISH, this is SOT. Do you read me?”
Julie repeats her request multiple times. She gets no response. She watches as Gallery ducks a sword aimed for her neck. Dale springs to her defense and turns into a hybrid kangaroo and hummingbird. He flitters over to the Malignant and kicks him with both powerful legs. The claws at the end tear through the man’s body and spill his entrails at Gallery’s feet. Dale repeats the technique to eliminate the other two who breached their perimeter while Gallery fires solar arrows down the hall to augment the pressure from Patrick’s blue and white matter-changing orbs.
The line is holding, but not for much longer. Julie repeats her plea for support into the phone that shakes as Knight Terror’s cannons dismember bodies.
Claire holds her knees to her chest in the comfort suit she was recently given as she sits in her chair. Her stomach turns as she tries to adjust to zero-g and a suit that sticks to every surface in the room. The furniture used to float above the floor, but now it’s settled on the orange surface. Claire balances to keep it from rocking or floating away, but it’s far more comfortable than the floor. She barely notices. A while earlier the power went out on the ship. Claire wasn’t even sure that was possible, and judging by Mother’s reaction, it shouldn’t be. Mother simply created some artificial daylight by growing a strange moss over every surface. It glows and gives off a yellow hue of early morning. It at least keeps Claire from pissing herself in the dark.
From what Claire has gathered, the Templars are attacking well early of the year they said they had to prepare. It’s apparently vexing to the Malignant, and Claire hopes she lives long enough to report this to the rest of Earth. Claire looks at the motionless orb floating near her head. Iris inactivated at the same time that the power left. Claire mourns her only friend and hopes she can be repaired. She grabs Iris and cradles her in her lap.
The Malignant scurry around Claire without a word or second look. Claire is still considered more animal than person; nobody pays her any attention.
“Admiral Drorus, how is it that we still do not have power?”
Drorus looks anxious as he reports. He isn’t panicked, not that Claire can tell, but he still isn’t pleased with how things are going. Claire gets the impression that he seems rushed, but that makes sense given the circumstances.
“Mother, it is beyond sub-optimal. We have zero power to the vessel. I have unconfirmed reports that Gudz have attacked the Womb. I have to rely on sprinters to relay my messages, so it is taking time.”
“How can the Gudz attack? Father has fewer than two dozen. Not even his multiplier could create this advantage. It is impossible for them to board my vessel and sabotage it without our knowledge. It must be internal sabotage.”
“Not on the Womb,” Drorus protests. “Perhaps on vessels like the Ahika, but not here.”
“Evidence calculates you are incorrect,” Mother responds. “Find the traitors and send them on to their celebrations.”
“Yes, Mother,” Drorus says and goes about his mission.
Drorus rushes past Claire. Leebuch takes his old position by Mother’s side.
“Mother,” Leebuch says, “if this was an attack, should not Father be here?”
“He should,” Mother agrees. “Which is part of the reason I accuse sabotage for this. Still, Father has been erratic lately. Perhaps he cheated again. How much longer until the fleet is aware of our predicament?”
“Only twenty-three minutes remain until scheduled checks. They will not get a response and will hypothesize that the attack has taken place. If the Gudz are attacking early, their vessel will be easily destroyed. If not, it is a mistake and not a violation of Our Contest. Either way, we can eradicate the ISH today.”
Claire’s heart leaps. The world doesn’t even realize how important today is right now, but if the Templars fail, they’ll soon find out.
“Good,” Mother says. “Hopefully Father arrives to confirm my suspicions. I hate to win on a technicality, but that is immaterial. The fleet does know to destroy the Ahika, then immediately send forces to the planet?”
“Yes, Mother,” Leebuch
answers. “They will set up the boreship and fire. It will give your marines the time to liberate as many Malignant as possible while the ISH die. Once the severity of our attack is understood, they will flock to us. It is for that reason that we are targeting the city west of Colberton. For some reason, Colberton has more Malignant than any other city on Earth by several factors.”
“It is because of Father’s relic cache. That many relics, all calling to the descendants of their owners, equal a powerful magnet.”
“Of course, that is why, Mother. You are so wise. A team will know to attack that site as well. Father’s vessel, the Cave, will be destroyed.”
What cache? Claire wonders.
This day is making even less sense. That’s saying a lot since she woke up on a spaceship . . . again.
Julie dives behind the cover her corner provides as a hail of augmented projectiles pass her. Her comfort suit secures her to the floor. The hallway fills with elemental attacks of fire, water, lightning, ice, and wind. These blasts are joined with metal blades, augmented bullets like Millantra’s, and tree vines. Julie also thinks she hears the snarls of various animals. Apparently, the gloves are now off.
It took them long enough, Julie thinks.
“Bloody hell!” Patrick screams.
Julie looks over her shoulder and sees the elder Templar hopping around on one leg as he hobbles to the cover of the corner. His body is streaked with liquid metal. Sticking out of his left knee is an augmented projectile. It looks like alien rebar that slowly transitions from solid to liquid. Too slowly. The Templars have been pushed past the limits of their passive augmentation defenses.
“Damn it! A bloody arrow to the knee!”
Patrick leans against the wall for support as Gallery covers him.
To Julie’s surprise, the phone gripped in her right hand starts to speak to her. Julie raises it to her ear as Power returns fire.
“—we hear you now,” Seal Pup says. “Do you read me?”
“About damn time!” Julie screams. “Their web is completely down. Feel free to hop over anytime and save our collective asses. Some fresh armor would be nice, too.”
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