Chrysalis Corporation

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Chrysalis Corporation Page 39

by T. A. Venedicktov


  “Thanks, Ares.”

  “No problem. Doing our duty.”

  As Damion communicated back and forth with the Olympus, Requiem concentrated on the sensors.

  “Something is out there, just on the edge of my scans, but I cannot quite be clear what it is. It is the same anomaly we have been seeing for the last four days. I have checked the sensors several times to see if there is a malfunction, but they are working perfectly.”

  Damion slipped off his helmet so that he could scratch his head and roll his neck. This was boring. “You bored?”

  “Bored? I do not believe so.”

  Damion watched the empty, star-filled space in front of him. The expansive nothing they were floating in was less frightening than the mines back home. Such a large space, and they didn’t have any part of it to themselves. He gave a full-body shake as he tried to get back on task. “Why couldn’t the President’s security force just meet us at the Zeus?”

  “It is for security and space reasons. That many ships in the vicinity would be a flight hazard. Additionally the ships reported that this early departure by the President coincided with their engine maintenance window. Since they are unable to perform long-distance flight, they are watching for rebels or opportunistic assassins to make sure there will be no incidents between passage.” There was a pause. “Something just zipped across my scanner, Fighter Hawk. It is too slow to be a comet or something of that nature. It was just on the edge of the sensors. I would like to recommend secondary alert status and have the Olympus increase their scanner range.”

  “All right, if you want, but don’t get me excited over nothing.” Damion pulled his helmet back on and contacted the Olympus.

  “You usually do anyway, where I am involved,” Requiem replied over the intercom, his normal expressionless tone sounding exceptionally dry.

  The Olympus replied that they didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. They might have said more, but their comm systems went out. Requiem gasped as an invisible wave flowed over the Ares. It abruptly knocked out the Ares’s communication systems.

  “Comm system terminated by an outside source,” he reported in a tense voice. As soon as he finished speaking, the sensor system went haywire, showing unknown vessels flying in at high speed. “Incoming! Approximately thirty unknown hostiles.”

  “Rebels, more than likely. Can you contact the Zeus?” Damion spun the Ares into a roll over the top of Olympus, taking on a defensive position. “Can we talk to the President’s ship at all?”

  “Negative. All comm systems have been severed by a pulse of some kind.” Requiem’s eyes flickered rapidly, concentrating on keeping all the ships in sight. “Incoming on the starboard side and aft, three vessels. Suggest evasive tactics and to lead them away from the Olympus.”

  “Then we better make ourselves worth following!” Damion rolled the craft again and opened fire on the enemy ships, trying to piss off the attackers as much as possible. He figured taking out one craft and disabling the other was a good start.

  “They seem to be ignoring us and avoiding firing on the Olympus. They are leaving half their numbers to surround the Olympus but are not attacking it,” Requiem reported. “The other fourteen vessels are following the Ares.”

  “What the hell are you doing back there, sleeping?”

  As good as Damion was as a Fighter, pilot, and shooter, the rebels seemed to be dodging their fire along with firing at them. But with Damion’s erratic movements and their wide attacks, it seemed the rebels weren’t trying to hit them. Taking a deep breath, Requiem closed his eyes, charging up the Impulse Barrier.

  Damion grumbled as he saw his panel flicker for a moment. He disliked Requiem at times for this very reason; his Core was preparing to initiate the Barrier. “Can’t you, for once, just have a bit of faith that I can get us out of a situation on my own?”

  Damion’s teeth ached at the first direct hit to their shields. The jar was nothing for now, but he knew they couldn’t take many direct hits and live. He wasn’t lying down and taking it, but there were just so many. Since the enemy was clustered together, at least it was easier to hit many of them at the same time before dropping down or up above the debris he left in his wake. Just so many of them. His starlit sky faded under a blanket of metal and fire. “Fuck.”

  “Eighteen more enemy craft coming from the port bow along with a larger vessel. Odds of it being their main battleship: highly probable,” Requiem reported as the Impulse Barrier slowly pulled energy from the auxiliary energy pack.

  Damion knew it was enough to power one small burst that would disable approximately ten enemy ships with how tightly packed they were. Anything stronger would start to pull from Requiem himself.

  “Probability of the Ares escaping the battle with the use of the Impulse Barrier is low. Without it, it is… not impossible, but highly improbable. They are not shooting to kill at this time. They are attempting to disable our shields.”

  Another hit rocked the Ares, punctuating his point. Klaxons sounded throughout the small interior, red lights flashing warnings as text scrolled across the screen. “Shields are down to 33 percent. I have concluded that they mean to capture us along with the Olympus, more than likely for information. This cannot happen.” He paused for a moment. “One of us must survive and escape to alert the Zeus.”

  “One?” Damion was getting pissed at the computer statistical bullshit that his lover was spewing. Damion wasn’t shooting at the ships to capture them, only to kill at this point. “Screw you, Requiem! We both get out of this or we both die! There is no other option.”

  “There is an infinite array of options. This one is merely the most likely to work,” Requiem replied. “Activating the Impulse Barrier. Going offline for approximately ten seconds.”

  With his work and practice with the Impulse Barrier over the past few months, Requiem could activate it quicker now. A familiar whine sounded through the Ares, almost too low to hear before it rose to a high pitch and then exploded into a bass thump that ranged outward from the Ares, disabling the rebels around them.

  Some of them stayed out of range, just far enough for the blast to be unable to reach them.

  “Charging. The Ares has approximately one minute before the enemy vessels come back online. More incoming.” The disabled ships spun in uncontrolled movements, bumping into each other and crowding the Ares to the point where it almost wasn’t maneuverable. “Larger vessel coming alongside the Olympus but not exhibiting any hostile action at this time.”

  Damion felt bile in the back of his throat as he thought of what Requiem had to endure just to use the Barrier almost every time they went into battle. This other ship wasn’t some small freighter. Damion knew a battle cruiser when he saw one. “Fuck. We can’t just leave the President’s ship here.”

  He’d never get far if he just cut and ran back to the Zeus. If the Commander didn’t kick his ass out of the Alphas, the Creators would because they’d be scapegoats. Doing so would mean he would fail in the true test of being a Fighter for the Corporation. His life was their property as much as Requiem was their toy. He didn’t have a choice. Fight, kill, or be killed. Die at the hands of rebels, fighting their best, or limp back and face another form of death. “We’re in this together. Don’t think I’m leaving you behind.”

  Requiem didn’t answer. “Enemy coming from all sides. Powering up Barrier. This is a decision that you must make, Damion. There are too many variables for me to go through all the options. I do not have time to analyze all of them, as I would need to do in order to make a proper decision. This will take a mind that does not need to be analytical.” Requiem took another deep breath as the Impulse Barrier started to power up again, drawing power from the electric impulses within his own body through the jack. The whine increased in pitch.

  “You’re a real pain in my ass.” Damion dipped the ship to the right a few degrees, leaving the disabled enemy behind and then raced back toward the Olympus and the other ship. “Hopefully
when the President doesn’t reach his convoy, they’ll send someone and the enemy ships will be too slowed down to have gotten him far or have killed him yet.”

  “Incoming,” Requiem reported loudly as enemy vessels suddenly surrounded them. Another shot hit their shields, rocking the Ares and sending sparks throughout the interior as the shields failed. Requiem let out a small sound of pain. “Shields are down. Damage to the starboard thruster. It is only at 37 percent capacity. Guidance system is also damaged and inoperable.” His voice was tight as electricity crackled through the Ares. “Core offline for fifteen seconds. Engaging the Impulse Barrier.”

  The Ares rattled as the Pulse spread out from the Zodiac, leaving ships dead in space. But more peeled away from the Olympus and also exited from the larger vessel. Requiem immediately began powering the Barrier again.

  “Shut down everything we don’t need! I just need the engines and the weapons. Reroute everything, Requiem, even life support.” By this point Damion had given up thinking they would get out of this alive. It was now time to show the rebels exactly how much damage an Alpha Fighter could do and that there were no cowards in this small craft. “Give me some shields.”

  “As you ordered,” Requiem replied in a breathy voice.

  The shields flickered back to life just in time to take a hit that would have taken out the number two power supply. The lights within the capsule pulsed and then dimmed, the only light now from Damion’s operating systems and the outside lights of the Ares. The air within the ship grew warm, almost stuffy except for the occasional burst that circulated fresh oxygen. The life-support systems were failing and misinterpreting commands. “Shields at 46 percent, engines at full, weapons at full, life support down to 30 percent, starboard thruster leaking and at 12 percent,” he reported.

  “Let’s see how much damage I can do to that ship.”

  Damion tried to get out of the other ships’ way while laying fire over the battleship’s hull. He turned the Ares around and flipped them over, cursing loudly as he realized how much harder it was to make the Ares respond now. He was able to lay down another burst of fire over the hull before having to break off to avoid enemy fire.

  The shots only hit the large ship’s shield, sending flickers of light over the dark metal. The rebels’ vessel was as large as the Zeus and had opened a bay, slowly pulling the Olympus into its large underbelly. There would be no problem with the Olympus fitting within it. The entire hull of the Olympus disappeared fast as if the rebels were used to hauling large vessels inside, and quickly. All their ships split off from surrounding the President’s ship, heading toward the Ares.

  Another hit, and the shields were torn down again, sending the Ares into a spin.

  “Engine one down. Both thrusters damaged but functional.”

  Red lights strobed throughout the Ares. “I do not understand. At any point in time, the rebels could have killed us, but they seem to be waiting, circling like Earth sharks.”

  Damion heard him take a deep, shaky breath.

  “Activating the Impulse Barrier. The only logical action at this time is to retreat. You will have one minute to do so.”

  “No! You can’t! Requiem!” Damion screamed, wanting to turn and shake his lover to make him stop but unable to take his gaze from the window or his hands from the controls for even a second. He was filled with terror for Requiem, his heart pounding in his chest with the knowledge of what Requiem was doing to himself. To them.

  The whining of the Barrier filled the capsule, combining with the shriek of the alarms, the crackling of failing systems, and the smell of burning electronics. Requiem didn’t stop.

  “Wait! Requiem! No! No!” Damion screamed again desperately, but he was too late once the Ares pulsed outward.

  Tears, along with sweat, trailed down Damion’s face. The cabin began to heat up and then suddenly cooled as life support failed. The aftershock from the Pulse on the unprotected Zodiac sent pain up Damion’s arms.

  He looked over his shoulder at Requiem with wide, tear-filled eyes—broken, chest not moving, face in the lax expression of death, unresponsive to any of Damion’s screams. All this made a fire in the pit of Damion’s stomach, forming a rage that he wanted to show to the galaxy. Damion screamed futile insults, only using up more of the precious air that was already thin in their cabin, as he beat his hands bloody against the unresponsive controls.

  Without Requiem to hold them, systems began to fail, powering down. The only items that remained operational were the weak thrusters and parts of Damion’s flickering screen that showed him which way to retreat.

  From the distance, four rebel vessels at the edge of the Pulse radius that had been waiting for this opportunity swarmed in. The sound of grips hitting the metal of the Ares’s hull echoed throughout the chamber as they latched on to the Zodiac, pulling it toward the large ship that had already swallowed the Olympus. They maneuvered easily through their comrades who remained dead in space, and they weren’t taking their time. They moved with urgency.

  Lastly the systems that monitored Requiem’s vital functions started screaming their own alert but were suddenly silenced soon after they began as power was taken from them as well. Damion found himself heaving large gulps of air and looking at the last few panels around him that still had power. There was no escape. They would be dragged into the belly of that ship and he’d be slaughtered or tortured for information. Requiem would be dissected. He reached out to the main monitor, pressing a few buttons before inputting his personal code.

  A static voice crackled throughout the cabin, barely audible. “Initialize self-destruct.”

  “Confirmation by Alpha Fighter Hawk, Damion Pierce. Core deceased. Override Core sequences and set to destruct in five minutes.”

  That gave him just enough time to say good-bye. It gave the rebels time to think they had won, and it would put them right in the belly of the battleship. Then he’d blow it all to Hades from the inside out. It might not take the ship down, but it should fuck up enough of their bay to give the President’s convoy time to meet up.

  There was a red pulsing light that read 04:30 on the screen above Damion’s head. Damion couldn’t send a wave out even if he wanted to. Who would he have called? Mom? Juni? Sorry, guys. Finally fucked up big enough to end up spaced.

  Damion’s heart began to race as the battleship eclipsed the Ares as his Zodiac was swallowed. Requiem. That one name was on his mind. Damion hurriedly took off his helmet, dropping it to bounce on the metal floor as he reached for the single pistol holstered to his right thigh.

  He could see people now through the red numbers on his window.

  03:24

  “Why don’t they just kill us?” Damion didn’t want to wait for the indignant death of being shot, trapped in his ship like a fish in a barrel. He couldn’t quite turn enough to reach Requiem with his safety harness holding him tightly to his control chair.

  He unbuckled his safety harness, and while it was a tight fit with the top hatch of the Ares down, he managed to squeeze himself next to his lover’s chair.

  Requiem wasn’t moving, nor did he seem to be breathing. His eyes were closed and his head tilted to the side. His arms had fallen off the rests in the last jolt, and the only thing that kept them there were the input jack cables.

  02:15

  The enemy ships pulled the disabled Ares through the atmospheric barrier, a glittering of silver as they did so, bringing the damaged Zodiac into the same bay as the Olympus. Hydraulic arms reached out, grasping the Ares with a jolt as the vessels disconnected their cables. The arms dragged the Ares into a docking plate where people were waiting at the end of the ramp.

  The first thing Damion noticed was people who looked like security—men and women with various weapons—and medical technicians around a stretcher. There was also a tall woman with ruby red hair, tan skin, and a slight scowl on her face that caused the beauty of her features to appear severe. Beside her was the President, calm, cool, and collected.


  Alive, and obviously there of his own choosing.

  Damion’s Core had sacrificed everything for a traitor. Betrayal, hate, and sadness filled Damion’s chest as he saw the President standing there seemingly safe, sound, and right at fucking home. Damion looked away from the collection of people outside their view window, pressing his forehead against Requiem’s, trying to will life into the man he cared most about in the universe. The one person Damion had come to truly love.

  His hand tightened on the pistol grip as the strident tone of the two-minute warning echoed in the small dying ship. Damion pressed a soft kiss to Requiem’s lips with his own trembling ones in a final gesture of love. “We die together. There was never any other option for me,” he whispered softly against the cooling lips as he shut his eyes, awaiting the inevitable.

  Saturday October 22, 454 MC

  1042 GMT

  In the Belly of the Titan

  TO BE continued.

  T.A. VENEDICKTOV is in reality two people.

  A, Ariana Juno, is a full-time working single mother with a love of chai tea lattes and tumblr. When A is not working or raising two amazing children she is plotting with her co-author. A has been in the medical field for fifteen years and has a love of travel. She lives in the Midwest and has an ice cream habit which calls for an intervention. A daydreams most of the plots of the T.A. novels—daily, hourly, nonstop, which drives T nuts at times.

  T is a full-time mom with a background in theater. T has traveled outside the USA to multiple countries. The main headliner in regards to editing and keeping their writing in order as well as trying to untangle all of A’s random ideas. T lives in Florida with her fiancé and three human children as well as three cat babies. She’s been battling Sjogren’s Disease while drinking coffee and kicking ass.

 

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