by Paul Teague
“Patience is a virtue,” said Ten as he struggled with the controls.
“It really isn’t,” said Jackson, “not today.”
“Got it,” said Ten as the door slid open. He dived through and found himself in another corridor, sparse and darkly functional.
“Close it,” said Gray, still covering their retreat but unwilling to fire until it was absolutely necessary. Jackson punched the controls, and the door slid closed.
“It won’t hold them,” he said, “they’ll be through in moments.”
“This way,” said Ten, leading them down the long corridor. After thirty metres it opened out into a huge open space.
“The middle of the Sphere?” suggested Gray.
“They’re coming,” said Jackson, staring through the sights of his rifle as the door of the pod chamber opened.
“There’s an elevator,” said Ten doubtfully, punching what he hoped was a call button. Gray joined him, and was equally unexcited by the prospect of the hole in the floor.
“Run or fight,” said Jackson as he backed towards them. Mechs were boiling along the corridor, and they could all hear the pounding of metal boots on steel floors. “Either option works, but make a decision now.”
“Looks like we’re taking the elevator,” said Ten.
“This place is crazy. There’s virtually nothing here,” said Gray as the elevator arrived from the depths.
“Jackson, come on,” said Ten as he joined Gray on the platform. It was big, but it didn’t fill the shaft like a normal lift, and it lacked rails and doors.
“Coming,” said Jackson, backing toward the elevator and firing as he came. He emptied a magazine and ejected the empty cartridge as the elevator began to drop. Then he took one more step back into thin air and toppled backwards.
“Shit,” said Jackson as he fell. He bounced on the elevator platform and slid over the edge, one hand scrabbling at the smooth surface.
“Got you,” said Ten, diving across the elevator platform to grab Jackson’s wrist. For a moment he lay there, stretched across the platform as Jackson dangled in the shaft. Then Gray reached over and heaved them both to safety.
“Too close,” said Jackson as he reloaded his rifle. “Thanks.”
The unenclosed elevator gave them a chance to get a good look inside the interior of the Sphere. “There’s hardly anything here,” said Gray as the platform floated downwards. “That’s got to be the bay we landed in,” she said, pointing at a huge structure near the Sphere’s equator, “and that bit looks like engineering or tech. “
“Gun emplacements all over,” said Jackson, shaking his head. “They have a lot of firepower, more than Vengeance. Look at that lot up there. They circle the whole ship.”
“And that looks like the main reactor core,” said Gray, ignoring Jackson to point at a huge structure that hung near the centre of the Sphere. It was dark and encased in steel, held in place by a framework of metal girders and looped in cables and fuel lines.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” said Jackson.
“You have a bad feeling about everything,” said Gray with a snort.
“This feels like a fortified outpost,” said Ten. “It can’t be their main base. It’s like a troop deployment station. Pretty fearsome, but I’ll bet that whatever it protects is worse.”
Gray and Jackson nodded their agreement.
Then the elevator slowed and stopped. A pair of doors opened in front of them, and they stepped out into an area built to a much more human scale, with proper floors, walls and ceilings again.
“Best not destroy the elevator,” said Ten, one hand on the doors to stop them closing. “I’m not sure if we’ll be able to make it back up again if we do. Can we jam it?”
“There, look,” said Gray. “I’ll shove that container halfway through the door, see if that stops them for a while.”
“It probably won’t,” said Jackson, “and if we go back that way, we have an army of Mechs to fight our way through.”
With the elevator door jammed, they moved out to look around the level. It was sparse, just a short corridor with three rooms, one at the end, one at either side.
“They’re really not into decorating, are they?” said Gray. “This place could do with a makeover.”
“Yeah, right. Some flowers over there, a couple of paintings hung on the wall. I’m guessing these Mechs don’t get too hung up about that kind of thing.”
“Do you hear that pulse? What is it?” said Gray, obsessed with the recurring sound.
“I hear only the cold metal fingers of Mechs making their way down the lift shaft to rend us limb from limb,” said Jackson.
“Yeah,” said Ten, creeped out by Jackson’s poetry, “let’s find Hunter and get out of here.”
They moved ahead. The room on the left was empty. It had all the appeal of a freight container, but had no discernible use.
The room on the right was packed with parts and tech. A door in the far wall led to a vast warehouse of Mech spares. Shelves were lined with metal head frames, legs, arms, containment shells for brains and spinal columns, liquids, chemicals, circuit board parts and anything else that might be needed to create some technical monstrosity.
“Well, that’s where they keep the nuts and bolts,” said Gray. “I wonder where they do their biological bits and pieces?”
They got their answer behind the third door.
“An operating theatre?” said Ten as they ghosted into the room. It was white and spotlessly clean. In the far corner, three robotic arms were working silently on something that was laid out on an operating table. There were nine such areas, all identically equipped with robotic arms. Between them, an automated parts truck moved, shuttling back and forth to the spare parts room to collect bits and pieces for repairs.
“Hunter,” said Ten as he recognised the figure strapped to the far table.
“Help!” yelled Hunter as the arms moved around him. “They’re taking my arm!”
Gray and Ten opened fire, riddling the robots and surrounding equipment with bullets. The arms collapsed in a smoking heap as Ten jogged over.
“Shit, what have they done to you?” whispered Ten, opening his helmet to talk to Hunter as Gray joined him beside the table.
Ten had seen some nasty stuff in his time, but this shocked even him. Hunter was laid out on the operating table, strapped tightly down with bands of steel on his legs, waist, neck, forehead and remaining arm. The three robots had removed his cybernetic arm, and it sat now on the floor, still gripped in the jaws of one of the robots.
Hunter was fully conscious, and he gave them a sickly grin. “Hey, shake my hand,” he said weakly, “it’s around here somewhere.” Hunter’s arm had been reduced to a stump. A circular metal attachment point protruded from the bone. “Damn, I’m glad to see you.”
“Incoming,” said Jackson from the doorway, “and I don’t think they’re looking to make friends.” He fired down the corridor, then retreated into the room. “Time to go.”
Gray hefted her weapon and faced the corridor. “How many?”
Jackson looked at her and grinned from within his helmet. “Couple o’ dozen, maybe.”
“Fun times,” said Gray, and she pressed the trigger. The gun whined, and for a moment it looked like nothing was going to happen.
Then it spat fire at the wall and tore it apart. Gray played the barrel from left to right, all the way across the room, and shredded the wall, the Mechs in the corridor and the wall on the other side. Spent shell casings fountained across the room, spraying the operating theatre with hot brass.
In seconds it was over, and Gray released the trigger.
“Come on,” said Ten, slinging his rifle so that he could release Hunter’s restraints and help the man to his feet.
“Need my arm,” hissed Hunter as he stumbled across the floor. He put one foot on a robot, grabbed his cybernetic arm, and yanked it free. “Okay, let’s go.”
“More incoming,” said Ja
ckson. “Looks like the trick with the lift didn’t hold them.” He fired a burst through the remains of the wall, then another.
“Hey, Ten, do you hear what I hear?” said Hunter. From above came the thud of boots on metal panels. The Mechs were on the roof, and as one, the team turned to stare at the ceiling.
Then there was an explosion at the other end of the room, and the ceiling crashed down to give them a sudden view across the interior of the Sphere. Mechs began to swarm into the med area, dropping through the hole in the ceiling.
Jackson dived away from the door, firing at the Mechs as he slid into the meagre cover offered by the operating tables.
Then the room was filled with the rumble of gunfire and the tinkle of falling brass as Gray’s weapon chewed on the Mechs. She played the weapon across the room, shattering the Mechs as they tried to organise themselves, carving out the wall and the ceiling at the same time.
When she stopped, the remains of the room were suddenly quiet, except for the sound of cooling steel as the barrels of her gun smoked in the dim light.
“Right, yes,” said Ten, looking around at the destruction wrought in only a few seconds by Gray’s overenthusiastic weapon. “Time to call base. I think I’ve figured out how we’re getting back to Vengeance.”
25
“Davies, the portal is back,” said Conway. She’d been lounging in the Raptor for hours while Davies tinkered with the comms setup and enjoyed his spacewalk. Now, with the threat of imminent action, she sat up and paid attention.
Davies looked up from his spot on the outside of the shuttle they’d cannibalised for their communication platform. “Oh, at fucking last. Let’s test this thing and go home.” He flicked channels. “Davies to Kingdom 10, we have a portal opening. Repeat, the portal is opening.”
“Affirmative, Davies, we see that too. Our teams are on standby. Awaiting your instructions.”
“There’s something different about this one, DD,” said Conway, dragging Davies’ attention back to their private channel. “Look, it’s not like the other times.”
The portal opened more slowly than it had before, and it stopped growing well before reaching its previous size.
“It’s not opening fully,” said Davies, frowning within his helmet as the portal’s growth slowed further, then stopped completely. “Well, that’s about as much use as a three-legged horse in an arse-kicking contest. Vengeance will never get through that.”
“Plenty of room for the Raptor,” said Conway as she absorbed the information on her instrument panel, “I’m just a bit jittery about it closing on us. Have you ever been in a collapsing wormhole?”
“No, but I can bore you with the science if you want.”
“Thanks, Davies, I’m too busy dusting my cockpit, so I can’t fit that in. Are you ready to try hopping a signal through the portal to Vengeance?”
“Yeah, we’re ready to go.”
“Hailing them now,” said Conway. She took another look towards the portal and knew something was off. The previous openings had been colourful and spectacular affairs, but this time the portal was dull and small. It didn’t matter until they had to pass back through, and it would be good enough for a test, but it worried her all the same.
“Vengeance here,” came Vernon’s voice. “Tell me you’ve got some good news, Conway?”
“We have a high-bandwidth connection to Kingdom 10, sir, and can pass through full mind states whenever you’re ready. What’s your status, Vengeance?” said Conway, eager to catch up with developments.
“It’s not good,” said Vernon, his tone grim. “Everything below deck one has been completely overrun by Mechs. We’re on our last legs here, Conway, throw us a bone, won’t you?”
“Working on it, sir,” said Conway, although she really wasn’t sure that they’d get very far. “We’re linked to Kingdom 10, testing comms now.”
“We’ve got our ears open on Vengeance, Marine, send us some audio, please,” said Yau.
“Kingdom 10 here, are you receiving this, Vengeance?”
“Anything?” Davies asked.
“Nothing here, sorry,” said Yau.
Davies inspected the panel again, then swore under his breath. “Rookie error, try again now.”
“Kingdom 10 to Vengeance, are you receiving us?”
“We hear you loud and clear, Kingdom 10, loud and clear.” There was a small cheer from the bridge crew of Kingdom 10.
“Good to hear you too, Vengeance. How are you holding up?”
“In need of some TLC, if I’m honest,” said Yau.
“Davies, I take it this link is encrypted, yes?” snapped Stansfield, injecting himself into the conversation.
“Yes, sir, all encrypted. Everything from Vengeance to the shuttle and then on to Kingdom 10 is secured using the Navy’s normal security protocols.”
“Then get back to Vengeance,” said Stansfield. “There’s work to be done here.”
“Roger, on our way, sir,” said Conway.
“I need to take a look at the cloning bays on Vengeance, sir,” said Davies as he waited for Conway to collect him.
“The cloning bay is on deck three,” said Vernon, “and we no longer have access to that area of the ship.”
“Is there a bay on deck three? Is there a way onto the ship without going through the front door?” Davies was reaching, but he needed to be in the bay to work on the cloning machines.
“There’s a small maintenance bay on deck three, identification BAY3/12,” said Yau. “That’s the closest we can get you to the cloning area.”
“Can you dock us remotely?” said Conway.
“Yes, ma’am,” said Yau confidently. “Just shout when you need us.”
“Roger, Conway out,” said Conway, closing the channel. “Coming to pick you up, Double-D. Are you done?”
“Yup, let’s get out of here.”
“Our first cloning bay is operational, Vengeance,” reported Kingdom 10. “Manufacturing has begun, first deployments in eight hours. We’ll have a second bay online in four hours or so, and the next two eight hours after that.”
“What about ships?” asked Stansfield. The news that cloned troops would soon be available was welcome, but Kingdom 10’s numbers and timeline weren’t going to make any real difference. “If these things make it through the portal, you’re next in line. What’s the Admiralty sending?”
“This is Captain Orwell, Admiral. I can confirm that Resolution, Conqueror and Orion are on their way.”
Stansfield frowned as the details of the incoming ships appeared on his data slate. “Those are all new ships, Captain. Is there nothing of Astute19 Class? Are there no old ships left? Surely we haven’t been gone that long.”
“I’m sorry, sir, Vengeance is the only Astute19-class still in service. Her sister ships have either been decommissioned, scrapped or lost. Astute19s are museum pieces now. There were some older ships being recommissioned, but they’ve been sent to Commodore Cohen at New Bristol.”
“I know how they feel,” grumbled Vernon under his breath.
“Too little, too late,” muttered Stansfield, shaking his head. Vengeance might be the last ship of her class, but he was damned if he was going to lose her. “Send everything you can. We need supplies, weaponry and attack craft. And Marines, lots of Marines. If you have any ex-military personnel willing to put up a fight, send them too.”
“Ay, sir,” said Orwell. “We’re going as fast as we can.”
“Keep me informed,” said Stansfield. “Vengeance out.”
There was a rumble from below that sent the bridge crew clutching at the seats for support and rattled the fittings.
“What the hell was that?” demanded Stansfield, glaring at his monitors.
“Some sort of explosion on deck two, sir,” said Yau. “No reports of hull breaches, but some of our systems are offline.”
“Defensive teams on deck one are being pushed back, sir,” said Vernon. “Maybe ten minutes till the Mechs have unopp
osed access to the bridge doors.”
“What about the other decks?”
“Only isolated pockets of resistance,” said Vernon, shaking his head. “There are just too many Mechs.”
“This is not how I had wanted to end the day, Commander,” said Stansfield, as if the boarding of his ship and the imminent loss of his command were mere inconveniences at the end of a trying afternoon.
“No,” agreed Vernon, brushing dust from his shoulder. “Permission to have a bash, sir?” he asked, patting his pistol.
“Denied, Commander,” said Stansfield with an apologetic shake of his head. “I need you here, and one gun won’t make a difference against this horde.”
For a moment, it looked like Vernon would protest, but then he holstered his pistol and nodded.
“Plenty of time for a glorious last stand, old friend.”
Vernon looked a little uncomfortable at that, and Stansfield raised an eyebrow, prompting him to lean in for a private word with his commanding officer.
“I know we were in stasis for a long time, but if we’re old, then so are the midshipmen and the ratings,” Vernon whispered.
Stansfield considered this for a moment. “Good point. Well made, my dear friend.”
“’Dear friend’? You're going soft in your old age, sir. Shall we sort these buggers out, then?”
Stansfield barked a laugh, “We're not done yet, Commander Vernon.”
“Do we fly the discs back to Vengeance?” said Gray, looking at Hunter’s half-naked body. “Because that ain’t gonna work.”
“We’d never be able to capture them,” said Jackson as they stared out at the inside of the Sphere from the remains of the operating theatre. “They’d kill us before letting us leave.”
“I’m going to call a taxi,” said Ten. “I know just the pilot for a desperate last-minute rescue in the face of certain death.” He opened a channel to Vengeance. “This is Marine X, calling home.”
“This is Vengeance,” said a voice Ten didn’t recognise. “Good to hear from you, Marine X.”
“Likewise, Vengeance. We’ve found Hunter, but we’re on the Sphere and need a ride home.”