by Ken Lozito
Connor nodded. “We’ll check the ship’s systems once we get over there.”
Connor stood up and Reisman did as well.
“Sir, we’ve matched velocity with the Vemus ship. Holding steady,” Sergeant Edwards said.
“Ops, commence emergency docking procedure,” Connor said.
“Emergency docking procedure being executed, sir,” Sergeant Browning replied.
Connor looked at Major Hayes. “You have the con. Good luck, Major.”
“I have the con. Good luck to you as well, General,” Major Hayes replied.
Connor headed for the door, with Reisman and their CDF escort following. He opened a comlink to Sean. “We’re all lined up. You’re a go once we’re docked.”
“Acknowledged, sir. We’ll do a quick sweep and give the okay for the second team,” Sean replied.
Connor closed the comlink and frowned.
Reisman snorted. “Feels strange not to be the first ones through the door this time.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Too bad more of the old team wasn’t here,” Connor said, thinking of Samson and Hank, who were training CDF Infantry on New Earth.
“Could have used Woods or Tiegen on this,” Reisman said.
“Would have been nice, but they’re working on the orbital defense system we have around home,” Connor said.
Reisman glanced at him with a bemused expression. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you refer to the colony as home instead of Earth.”
“I’m evolving,” Connor said and quickened his pace.
They went to the main hangar, where their combat suits would be waiting. He used his implants to check the status of the Away Team. They were making their way across the emergency airlock tube that connected the two ships. There were two combat suits waiting for them.
Sergeant Hoffer waved them over. “Right this way, General and Colonel.”
He couldn’t see Hoffer’s face because he was already in his combat suit, but the soldier’s name appeared on Connor’s internal heads-up display, as did the names of the other soldiers on the secondary team. His Nexstar combat suit was split down the middle, with the chest plate opened. Connor climbed inside and activated the suite. His implants registered with the Nexstar’s computer systems. The power armor closed itself up and the suite status showed on his helmet’s HUD. He was green across the board. Connor felt the familiar adrenaline burst from being in combat armor once again. These combat suits were modified series eights, designed for space combat. They carried enough oxygen to last them for days, and the onboard medical systems could administer treatment depending on the type of injuries. The Nexstars were as tough as they came. He picked up an AR-71 assault rifle with grenade launcher attachment, Connor’s preferred weapon these days.
Connor and Reisman moved toward the front where Captain Lee waited. Saluting with a combat suit wasn’t practical, so Captain Lee simply greeted Connor.
“Captain Quinn is at the maintenance hatch now,” Captain Lee said.
Connor nodded, and his armored head bobbed up and down. Time to find out what the hell these Vemus really were.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Connor waited near the emergency airlock. Within ten minutes of Sean’s platoon entering the Banshee, he opened a comlink saying they were clear to come aboard. They walked across the emergency docking tube and Connor stepped inside the Banshee first.
“No contacts at all?” Connor asked Sean over a comlink.
“That’s affirmative, sir. It’s like the crew of the Banshee all left. There are no life signs on the ship,” Sean said.
The interior of the ship was sparsely lit from the emergency lighting along the ceiling. Connor scanned for any active comms channels, but there were none.
“Sir, we just got to the bridge. The systems here appear to be on standby. According to the logs, the crew left the ship,” Sean said.
“Does it say where they went?” Connor asked.
“It was a quick entry from Major Cross. She just says the ship isn’t safe and that they went inside the enemy ship to try to secure another ship to escape with,” Sean said.
“That doesn’t sound right. Major Cross wouldn’t endanger her entire crew on a whim. There has to be more to it than that,” Reisman said.
“See if you can restore emergency systems,” Connor told Sean. “Captain Lee, I want you to take half the team and see what can be salvaged from the ship. We need to know if there are any intact warheads we can use.”
“On it, General,” Captain Lee said and began issuing orders.
Connor and the rest of the platoon headed toward the bridge. The Destroyer-class vessels were much smaller than the heavy cruiser. The scans they had of the ship from the outside showed that it had been heavily damaged before the Vemus disabled it. Savannah Cross hadn’t given the ship up without a fight.
More emergency lighting came on as they made it to the bridge. Sean had CDF troops stationed outside. Connor and Reisman went inside and found Sean standing at the tactical workstation, where he had a holoscreen active.
“They used the forward hatch to get aboard the Vemus ship, sir,” Sean said.
Connor used his implants to access the Banshee’s systems. He skimmed the logs quickly. “They did repel boarders, but they suffered severe casualties. I still would have expected a small group to have been left behind.”
“Wouldn’t want to draw that short straw,” Reisman said.
Connor glanced at him. “Come again?”
“Think about it. You’ve lost a bunch of your crew fighting this enemy and then the few that remain have a choice. Stay holed up in here and make the enemy come to you or head out on their ship and make them chase you,” Reisman said.
Sean brought his hand up to his ear. “Go ahead, Anders.”
“Sir, we’ve found some of the living exoskeleton stuff near the hatch. It’s on the walls too,” Anders said.
“Let’s go check it out. I doubt we’ll find anything of further use here,” Connor said.
They left the bridge and headed along the corridor to the forward port hatch, where they met a three-man team. Along the walls was a glistening, thick film of brown sludge.
“Wynn, report. What is this stuff?” Sean asked.
Sergeant Nick Wynn was the medic with a background in biology.
“Seems to be coming from the Vemus ship. It doesn’t react to stimuli, but it will stick to whatever it comes in contact with, so I wouldn’t touch it,” Sergeant Wynn said.
Connor looked at the closed hatch and saw that the brown sludge was coming through the door, which wasn’t airtight anymore. At least it hadn’t reached the door controls.
“Open the hatch,” Connor said.
Sergeant Wynn stepped back while two soldiers went over to the hatch. Connor looked at Wynn. “Did you collect samples?”
Wynn’s eyes widened and he shook his head.
“We’ll need some samples to study,” Connor said.
“I’m sorry, sir. I have a sample kit. I’ll start collecting some immediately,” Sergeant Wynn said.
The CDF soldiers at the hatch stopped while Wynn went over to the wall. He opened a metallic container and withdrew a thin plastic rod with a small scoop on the tip. He dipped it into the brown sludge and deposited a dollop into the container. Sergeant Wynn closed everything up and gave them a nod.
“If you see something you think is important, let us know and we’ll make sure you have an opportunity to check it out,” Connor said.
“Understood, General,” Sergeant Wynn said.
“Open the hatch,” Sean ordered his men.
A soldier activated the manual release and checked that the team was ready. Four more CDF soldiers held their weapons in covering formation. If there was anything on the other side of that hatch, it would be dead before it knew what hit it. The soldier pulled the hatch open. There was a slight hiss and the atmosphere equalized with that of the Vemus ship.
Conn
or’s combat suite scanned the air for any contaminants. His internal heads-up display showed the analyses of the atmosphere, all of which indicated a breathable atmosphere that was standard for a spacefaring vessel.
“My scanners are showing that the air is good,” Reisman said.
“Same,” Connor replied.
Beyond the hatch was a dimly lit corridor. Connor’s helmet compensated for the low light so he could see clearly. The dark gray walls had a purplish tint to them, as if there was a small electric charge running through the material, and appeared to have been created from a similar substance to that which they’d observed on the outer hull.
They slowly entered the enemy ship. Connor kept waiting for some kind of alarm to sound, but there was nothing. He used the butt of his AR-71 to test the sturdiness of the corridor walls. They were hardened and, upon closer inspection, Connor saw that there were multiple layers, as if they’d been grown.
“There’s a lot of humidity. Could be why the walls have that glistening sheen to them,” Sean said.
They delved deeper into the ship and still didn’t see anyone else. Connor checked for open comlinks again, but there weren’t any. They came to an open area where multiple deck levels were exposed. It was only then that Connor saw exposed pieces of material that were definitely manmade. There were angled edges of the metallic alloy used in NA Alliance ships.
“There has to be some kind of crew aboard this ship. There’s no way it could be flown otherwise,” Reisman said.
“I think the mere fact that this ship is here is miracle enough,” Connor said.
“What do you mean?” Reisman said.
Connor walked to the edge of the deck and gestured over at the far wall.
Reisman gasped.
The black-and-gold lettering had once gleamed a proud name that was familiar to any NA Alliance soldier. The lettering was so faded that there was only the vague impression of their shapes, but they were clear enough to read.
Sean came to Connor’s side and peered at the far wall. “Indianapolis! The Indianapolis? The battleship carrier you were last on before being shanghaied onto the Ark?”
Connor glanced at Reisman, who for once was clearly at a loss for words. He glanced around, unable to believe that over two hundred years ago he’d stood upon the very decks of this ship—a Barracuda-class battleship carrier, the pinnacle warship in the NA Alliance Navy.
“I can’t believe it,” Connor said at last.
He used his neural implants to find an open network connection using an encrypted Alliance protocol. Connor’s eyes widened when the ship’s systems replied to his request.
“There’s an active computer system here that responds to Alliance protocols,” Connor said, looking at Reisman.
Reisman’s eyebrows pulled together in concentration as he used his own implants. A moment later he nodded. “This is too frigging weird. How the hell is this ship even here? It’s like some cruel joke.”
“What do you mean?” Sean asked.
Reisman gestured to Connor and then back at himself. “We were both on this ship. All the Ghosts were. This ship intercepted us after the Chronos Space Station was destroyed.”
Connor kept looking around, trying to peer past the strange material that covered the walls. Knowing it was the Indianapolis gave him a strange feeling of déjà vu. Connor probed beyond the initial network connection, seeking to get the status of the ship’s systems.
“I’m only seeing systems that are locked out. It’s like there was a system-wide lockout,” Connor said.
“If that’s the case, how are you even able to access the system for it to tell you that everything is locked out?” Sean asked.
“Because our credentials must still be in the system somehow,” Connor replied.
“How is this ship flying without computer systems? We saw it use weapons and navigation. Those systems have to be working,” Reisman said.
Connor’s thoughts kept racing with all the possibilities. “I know where we can find the answers.”
Reisman nodded. “The core systems. I can try to bypass the lockout there.”
“Do either of you know where it is?” Sean asked.
“Of course. It’s near the bridge,” Connor said at the same time Reisman said, “near Main Engineering.”
Sean glanced at both of them. “Which one is it? By the bridge or Main Engineering?”
Connor glanced at Reisman, who gave him a challenging look. “They’d never put the system core by the bridge,” Reisman said.
“You’re wrong. The system core is by the primary bridge in the forward section near the middle decks, where it has the most protection,” Connor said.
Reisman shook his head. “I’m not wrong. You’re thinking of the secondary bridge just behind midship near Main Engineering.”
Connor frowned in thought, considering. Was he wrong? He’d only served aboard naval warships early in his career, which was required for any active combat soldier regardless of the military branch they served in.
Sean pressed his lips together. “Could there be more than one computing core?”
Reisman shook his head. “No, there was a primary computing core with the ability to isolate different systems in case the cyber warfare suite failed.”
Sean glanced at Connor. “We need a decision here. I’d rather not divide our team to chase two leads.”
“Sir, come on, this is me,” Reisman said. “I was the operations and intelligence officer in our old platoon. It was my job to know how to take down systems so if the shit hit the fan you could say to me, ‘Wil, I need this broken ASAP,’ and I’d be able to do it.”
Connor shook his head. “Not quite like that,” said Connor, giving his friend a pointed look. “We’re in the aft section or just beyond it, so midship is this way. We can check it out on the way.”
“When we get there, you’ll be saying how sorry you are for ever doubting me,” Reisman said.
Connor grinned and then blew out a breath. Sean had six of his team take point while Connor and Reisman stayed in the middle. Connor kept thinking about Admiral Mitch Wilkinson, who, to the best of Connor’s knowledge, had remained the flag officer of the battleship carrier Indianapolis. Wilkinson had been referred to by Dr. Stone in the summary message that was part of a major update to the original Ark mission.
What virus or parasitic life form does this? Connor wondered. He glanced at the hardened substance on the walls.
A comlink from the Vigilant registered on his internal heads-up display and Connor called for a stop.
“General,” Major Hayes said, “the two battleship carriers have increased their velocity. The remaining Vemus fleet has also caught up with us. We’ve run the numbers and I’m sending a timer out to you to show how much time we have before we reach the defense platforms and New Earth’s orbital defenses.”
A countdown timer appeared on Connor’s heads-up display and the others around him confirmed they were seeing the same thing.
“Understood. We have it now. Captain Lee is still on the Banshee, looking to salvage materials,” Connor said.
“He’s already contacted us and we’re starting the offload. There were only two warheads left intact, so they’re removing those and configuring a detonator for them. We’ve also done some analysis of the remaining Vemus fleet. We’ve noticed that many of the ships don’t match up with the NA Alliance Navy or any navy. Lieutenant LaCroix believes the Vemus fleet is made up of multiple ships merging together somehow. We’re not sure of the reason, but some of the ships have features of civilian ships, particularly freighters. Anything with a lot of mass,” Major Hayes reported.
“Still no reaction to our presence here?” Connor asked.
“None that we can detect. We’ve run passive scans, which they don’t seem to mind. In the event that they attack us, I have a comms buoy set to deploy to COMCENT,” Major Hayes said.
“Understood. We’re checking the computing core to see if we can learn more ab
out the enemy,” Connor said.
The comlink closed.
“Merging ships,” Reisman said thoughtfully. “The only reason I can think to do that is to address resource needs.”
Connor nodded. “So that brown sludge is absorbing the Banshee, and if we stay here long enough, it will start absorbing the Vigilant as well.”
“Into the belly of the beast, as it were,” Reisman said.
Connor sent a quick message to Major Hayes to monitor the living exoskeleton material and not let it near the Vigilant. Then they quickened their pace as much as they could. They didn’t have schematics of the interior of the ship, so they were reliant on the faded maps on the parts of the walls that weren’t covered by foreign materials, as well as Connor’s and Reisman’s memories. Not the most reliable way to navigate through an enemy ship, but it was what they had to work with. They stayed near the center of the corridors and had to occasionally backtrack because the way forward was blocked by a crag-laden wall of the hardened brown sludge.
As they neared the Main Engineering section of the ship, the hardened material was restricted to a bulging mass along the middle of the wall instead of covering the walls and the ceiling. The mass was rounded, with glowing material moving inside it.
“The system core should be up ahead on the right,” Reisman said.
The way forward widened by several meters and there were two massive rooms on either side.
Sean was in front of Connor. He looked over to the left. There were multiple large tubes of the exoskeleton material going into the room. The room itself was a vast network of the same material, as if a host of vines had taken over the area.
“What is this place?” Sean asked.
“That’s supposed to be Main Engineering, which includes the main reactor that powers the ship,” Connor said.
“And over to our right, just where I said it was,” Reisman said, smiling triumphantly.
“I can admit when I’m wrong, but there is a computing core near the main bridge,” Connor said.