Ali struggled not to drop her, lowering her to the floor as best she could. She didn’t notice the door closing.
“Sal? Sal? Can you hear me?”
Sal’s eyes snapped open again, now glowing from within. Fear surged through Ali. Her nightmares had returned with a vengeance, but it was too late to do anything. Sal’s eyes had Ali trapped. The longer Ali stared into them the more lost she became.
Then the flow reversed. Instead of her soul being drained into Sal, something now flowed from Sal into her. Something that forced its way into Ali’s thoughts, into her mind. Something she couldn’t resist. Something that made her want to scream and yet prevented her doing so.
Desperately she tried to reach out to Jess, to use her link to the ship to call for help. Whatever was pouring into her mind knew what she was trying and fought her, wrestling for control. With every passing moment it became stronger and she became weaker.
Soon the presence had full control, locking her out completely. Inside she kept on screaming a scream no one would ever hear.
Chapter 37
Greenseed Station
“Commander, this is section Oak-Five.”
“This is commander Marsh. What’s your situation?”
“We are secure for the moment, Sir. We only have three entrances. All are locked down.”
“Have you changed the codes? Some of those attacking the station will know the codes we had.”
“Yes, Commander. We did that as soon as we received your message.”
“Good. How many are with you?”
“Forty, Sir. Twelve children, the rest are adults. All family. We have some improvised weapons but if we keep the doors sealed we shouldn’t need them.”
“Just remember, don’t open them. No matter who approaches.
“Yes, Sir, we… hold on. There’s movement. Someone is approaching. Fast.”
“Oak-Five, do not open those doors under any circumstances.”
“Yes, Sir. Wait… no. No, it can’t be!”
“What’s happening?”
“It’s my brother and his sons. They’re being chased by a larger group. They look terrified.”
“You can’t be sure it’s still your brother. Don’t open the door!”
“I… no… I can’t leave them out there. Open the door. Quickly! We can close it again in time.”
“No!” Marsh shouted, but it fell on deaf ears. Oak-Five was still transmitting, but they weren’t listening.
“Can you get me video of that area?” he demanded.
“Yes, Sir,” replied one of the officers. “That area hasn’t been compromised yet.”
Yet. As the Tainted assaulted the station they were disabling and destroying its surveillance mechanisms, restricting the ability of Marsh and the others to coordinate a defence.
The feed appeared on his screen. He saw a cluster of people near the doors, urging on a man and two teenage boys who were sprinting down the corridor. Following behind was a large mob of people, trying to close the distance.
The fleeing man was pushing his sons along. As they reached the doors he shoved them forward. One surged through into the arms of those waiting, but the other stumbled and fell. The father fell over him, ending in a tangled knot.
Several of those within surged forward, reaching out to grab their fallen family. The two on the ground seemed hurt. They rolled about in agony, making it harder to grab them. They were preventing the door being closed. All the time their pursuers were getting closer.
Finally the two were dragged inside the door, which quickly began closing. It was tight but the door sealed shut just before the chasing group reached it. Everyone inside started to shout and cheer.
Marsh only saw what happened next because he was looking for it, because he’d already seen it happen too many times. The boy who had first entered, the one who had kept his feet, quietly moved over to the door controls. Only one man remained by them, the others checking the father and son who had been dragged in at the last moment.
The boy suddenly lashed out, driving his stiffened hand into the throat of the man guarding the controls. The man collapsed to the floor, choking. The boy quickly stepped forward, entering an emergency code to open the door. The code wouldn’t have worked from outside the door, but inside was a different matter. By their very nature, emergency codes didn’t change too often, and changing them was a difficult task.
With the door open, the Tainted outside flooded in. It took those inside a few moments to realise just how much danger they were in. By then it was too late. The Tainted were in the room in large numbers. The defenders stood no chance.
The video feed was the first thing targeted, as it had been in every other case. Marsh had no idea what happened next. He knew he’d see some of those who were being overrun again, though, joining in a future attack. The Tainted were increasing their numbers exponentially.
Things had gone badly from the moment the Tainted made their move. Even at the best of times Greenseed wasn’t designed to hold off an invasion. Most of the defences Marsh had tried to put into place were designed for far more mundane events; heavy damage to a section of the station, contaminated air in an area or something on a similar scale. They were far less effective against a major insurgency.
Greenseed might just have been able to hold out if the threat had been contained and the guards deployed. Neither was possible. Most of the guards were either on the Willow, the source of the problem, or mixed in with those who had already left the Willow. Marsh had quickly lost touch with most of the remaining guards, and the few that remained in contact were fighting desperate holding actions.
To make things worse the invaders had an intimate knowledge of the station. They knew all the weak points, all the procedures and even most of the emergency access codes. The Tainted had swept out across the station in an unstoppable tide.
Marsh had seen the drama in Oak-Five played out time after time. The people under his control weren’t military. In most cases they weren’t even guards. Fighting or killing anyone was alien to them. Fighting or killing close friends and family was unthinkable. The Tainted exploited that again and again. Spearheading every attack were close family of the defenders.
Only one area of the station was truly capable of defending itself, of locking down completely. The Operations Room. Marsh had ordered it secured, and locked down all comms and video feeds from nearby corridors. He would not risk the Tainted using the same tactics against the crew around him. He was still in charge of the station, in theory. In practice, section after section was being ripped from his control. The Tainted were making use of their knowledge, using it to hamstring the few responses he still had.
The generators had gone first, swiftly followed by the command links to everything outside of the station, all the weapons platforms and the small number of ships. Both moves removed any chance of Marsh inflicting large amounts of damage on the station, even if he had been willing to. Other critical areas followed, including the docking bays. Now the Tainted had control of all key areas and were quickly spreading out through the station, and there was nothing Marsh could do.
Some areas were holding out, either because they’d seen what was happening and weren’t letting anyone in or because they had someone with military experience in charge. It was still only a matter of time before those areas fell, before they were overwhelmed. Then only the Operations Room would be left. Marsh knew it too would fall in time.
A cloud of gloom covered the room. Hardly anyone spoke. Those still with something to do focused intently on their tasks. The rest were either sitting staring into space, had their heads in their hands or were watching snatches of video from around the station.
“Commander!” the comms officer called out suddenly. “I’ve managed to hook back into external communications. We can’t send, but we can at least listen in.”
“Good work. Is anything out there?”
“No, Sir. I’ll keep monitoring.”
“Is
there any chance of being able to send a message?”
“Sorry, Commander. Not a chance. I’ve hooked into an emergency backup used to distribute signals throughout the station. It’s specifically designed to be receive only.”
Marsh nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak. For a moment he’d had some hope but it had been crushed by the news they couldn’t transmit. Without the ability to communicate with incoming ships he couldn’t warn them of the dangers they faced, couldn’t stop them from being captured or infected.
He started to realise just how dire the situation was. Greenseed supplied food to hundreds of ships a week. If the Tainted got aboard each ship then they’d be able to spread far and wide. No wonder they’d returned to Greenseed! And there was nothing Marsh could do about it. Well, almost nothing. But, even now, could he really bring himself to do that?
* * *
Clay fidgeted in his fighter’s seat. The usual joy of being in space was crushed by the target they were approaching. It was on his screens already, a small mining colony built upon a slightly larger asteroid. That was the core of the colony, at least. Equipment and small ships were spread out across the area, capturing asteroids and bringing them in for mining.
The colony had no real military strength. Their small fleet of ships would be swept aside by any one of the fleet’s warships, but they weren’t the real danger. The colony had huge stockpiles of refined rock and metal, and launchers designed to accelerate those materials to massive speeds for their journey in system.
The same mechanisms could be used to throw the massive lumps of rock and metal at the incoming fleet. The capital warships couldn’t dodge quickly enough to be safe, and the speed and mass of the projectiles could inflict serious damage if they struck.
So Clay and the other pilots were being sent in. Their fighters were easily able to avoid any rocks lobbed their way from a distance. Anything launched at point-blank range would be a problem but the fighters, and their pilots, were far more expendable than the large warships.
Clay and the others were tasked with destroying the launchers and any other infrastructure which could pose a threat to the capital ships. Destroying the colony’s own ships was very much a side issue.
Did the colony know what was coming? They must know something was wrong. What possible reason could there be for such a large force of fighters to be flying towards them while the warships lurked at long range?
Clay and the others from his flight briefing were leading the assault. Pride of place the officer had said. Clay wasn’t fooled. Sacrificial bait would be a better description, or cannon fodder.
Comm indicators flashed up on his display. The colony was trying to reach him and the other fighters. He ignored them. His orders were very clear on the subject, listening to the incoming messages would be an offence punishable by death. Responding would mean a slower, more painful death.
Clay didn’t need to open the channel to know what the colony would be saying. There would be questions, pleading, and threats. All to no avail. Their fate was already sealed.
As he drew closer, Clay studied the colony and its surrounding infrastructure. It was impressive, despite the colony’s relatively small size. It would have been a prime target for capture, not destruction, if it wasn’t located so far out from its sun. That distance put it far outside the area that could be patrolled frequently, and meant it was almost certain to fall to the Tainted. So there was only one choice. It had to be destroyed.
The station was close now. In a couple of minutes Clay would be able to engage targets. In his head the colony’s pleading grew stronger and stronger. Adults begged him to spare their children. The children cried without really knowing why, picking up on the atmosphere around them.
Acid surged in Clay’s stomach. He was fighting not to be sick. He really wasn’t sure he could open fire on the innocent civilians on the station.
One minute to go. The colony responded. One moment there was nothing, the next a thick cloud of high-speed projectiles. Far more of them than the mission planners had allowed for. The colony must have rigged this up as a defence against anyone trying to reach the station.
His fighter’s systems couldn’t track all the incoming objects. As well as huge rocks that would dent a destroyer’s shields there were hundreds of smaller chunks. At the speed they were moving almost all would be deadly to a fighter.
Turning wasn't an option. The rocks would hit before he could complete the move and build up enough speed to escape. Every instinct he had was telling him to run, but the safest reaction was to meet the assault head on.
His stomach clenched as the moment approached. The scanner was useless, it showed nothing but a solid smear of contacts. Only two things could get him through this… raw skill and a huge amount of luck.
Clay caught his first glimpse of a large chunk of rock. Almost immediately there were more than he could count. Then hundreds, thousands of smaller chunks. The collision alarm sounded continuously. Clay desperately worked his controls, throwing the fighter around more on instinct than anything else.
Suddenly it was over. Clay let out a shuddering breath. He’d survived unscathed. He glanced at the fighter’s displays and his hand started to shake. The proximity warning was showing a minimum distance of less than a metre. He’d been that close to disaster.
The crash of laser fire against his shields shook him out of the shock. Clay immediately threw the fighter into a tight curve, working out where the attack was coming from. He tracked it down to a weapons bay on the main station. He rolled his ship, swinging its nose across the weapons bay and firing all the way. The station’s weapon fell silent, though he didn’t know whether he’d killed it or its crew. He didn’t care, either. He was in full combat mode now. The station had tried to kill him using the fast-moving chunks of rock and then they’d shot at his fighter. All that mattered now was survival.
He quickly reviewed the wider situation. Nine fighters had been lost to the hail of rocks, with a tenth crippled but somehow limping back towards the destroyer. The waves of fighters coming in behind were all surviving, using data from the fighters which had already made it through and in many cases using the same paths.
Clay’s eye was drawn to a nearby freighter. Something about its positioning seemed wrong. It was simply hanging in space a short distance from the colony. Clay opened fire at extreme range, scoring continuous hits on the static ship. Half-hearted return fire cut through space but came nowhere near Clay. He became even more suspicious. Rather than risk getting closer, he lit off a missile.
The freighter switched its fire, desperately trying to shoot down the incoming missile. Clay frowned. Sure, the missile could do some damage to a freighter with full shields, but not that much. Even if it broke through the shields it wouldn’t cause much more damage. Was the crew just inexperienced? Panicking over the missile when the true threat, Clay, was left alone.
He turned his fighter, keeping a good distance. Something felt wrong. Were they trying to lure him into a trap? The fire continued but they couldn’t hit the missile, which twisted and swerved as it closed the distance. The defensive fire continued right up until the moment the missile hit.
“Bloody hell!” Clay shouted.
The explosion of the missile was enough to overwhelm the freighter’s shields and punch a modest hole into its hull. At most Clay had expected to see some atmosphere being vented. Instead the missile’s small explosion had triggered a second, massive explosion which obliterated the freighter.
It took Clay’s brain several seconds to catch up. He hit transmit.
“Command, this is Angel Five-Nine.”
He gave his new call sign smoothly. It almost felt natural already. When he had time to think it made him cringe. Angel? The mission they were on wasn’t one of mercy. It was one of hatred and murder.
“Angel Five-Nine, this is command. Go ahead.”
“Warn all ships to avoid the freighters. They may be packed with explosives.”
>
“Acknowledged Angel Five-Nine. We saw what just happened. Carry on. Command out.”
For a moment, as the channel went dead, Clay felt the loss of his old crew mates once again. He would never have gone through command back then. He was trusted to warn those flying with him directly. Not any more.
He only had a moment before more weapons opened fire from the colony and a scout ship darted out to engage him. While primarily designed for exploration the ship shared many similarities with a fighter. It could have been a formidable enemy, but the pilot had no experience of combat.
A double feint by Clay had the scout not only travelling in completely the wrong direction but actively bringing itself into his sights. He opened fire, reducing the scout to tumbling wreckage.
He swung his fighter around, the heat of battle driving all doubts from his mind. He was flying and an enemy was trying to kill him. That made everything simple. Kill or be killed. Win or lose. Live or die.
* * *
Greenseed Station
“Commander, there’s an incoming ship,” the comms officer called out.
Marsh froze. He’d learnt to hate those words recently, but now they drove a cold spike through his stomach. A ship was approaching Greenseed expecting to request food, not knowing that the station had fallen to the Tainted in every way that mattered.
Marsh was aware of everyone else staring at him. No matter how helpless he felt he had to set them an example. No matter how dire the situation if the commanding officer was positive it spread to those beneath him. Marsh knew that well from his military days. Now he summoned every speck of willpower he possessed in order to project confidence.
“Put it on the speaker,” he said. “We need to know what is happening. Then we can find a weak spot to strike back at.”
“Aye, Sir.”
The shift in the room was palpable. People were still scared. They still doubted. They might still feel, deep down, that the situation was hopeless. But for the moment they drew on his confidence, and seeing their reaction helped boost him. He’d seen many battles where victory was snatched from certain defeat by those who refused to give up. While those in the Operations Room still lived the fight wasn’t over.
Wanderer's Odyssey - Books 1 to 3: The Epic Space Opera Series Begins Page 77