Blockade

by Craig Martelle

  “You will remove the infestation on Dirikon Four One Seven Zero. You must evacuate the planet you call Alchon Prime. This is our space, and that is our one condition. You know what it’s like to go to someone else’s land, encroaching until the natives have been pushed out, don’t you, Joseph?”

  “America. The natives were unarmed for the battle waged against them,” Joseph intoned. He let go of Petricia’s hand, running his fingers up her arm until he could squeeze her shoulder. He stepped forward and started to pace. “But that isn’t here, and you aren’t native to this system. I venture that you aren’t native to this galaxy. Bundin is here, an emissary of his free people. This is far different.”

  “You argue with yourself, Joseph. I saw your mind and all that you are. A vampire. A poet. A warrior. A peacemaker. No. You will take your ship and go, or we will eliminate every living creature in this system, and you will be gone all the same.”

  “I’m not sure how you’re going to do that,” Kim said, shaking her head. “You can’t even keep a few meat-sacks off your ship, so I think you are all bluster. Time for you to leave and not come back.”

  Auburn checked the corridor, expecting a security force, but none came.

  The fight was within.

  “What weapon does it have that we don’t know about?” he whispered into Kim’s ear.

  She shook her head and mouthed, “Is it bluffing?”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Alien Ship of the Line #1

  The air cleared as the fire suppression system kicked in. Terry gasped in pain. Char and Cory were both down. Ted was hunched over the box that carried Plato. Terry tried to holster his JDS, but the holster was misshapen, distorted by the intensity of the heat.

  “Char,” he grunted, as he crawled across the floor. The air shimmered from the residual heat. Charumati was lying atop their daughter, the back of her suit melted and torn. The delicate skin underneath was similarly torn. Terry cradled her body as he gently rolled her toward him. Her bubble-helmet was gone. Much of her hair was gone.

  The smell of burnt hair and flesh permeated the space. Cory blinked as she rolled out from under her mother. She pulled her hood off and with calm concern, jumped to her mother’s aid.

  “She’ll be fine,” Cory said, as much to herself as to her father. Terry couldn’t leave go. “Check on Ted,” Cory managed to say.

  Terry hesitated, watching the blue glow of Cory’s hands as it danced across Char’s scorched head and down the shredded skin of her back.

  “You’re next, Dad,” Cory said softly.

  “You take care of your mother. I’ll be fine.” Terry winced as he fought against the pain. He carefully moved out from under Char and stood, his skin protesting the movement. His chest looked like a pig’s after spending too much time on the spit.

  He stumbled, gritted his teeth as he looked for an enemy, and continued on. Ten had been silenced, but Terry wasn’t convinced that he was gone.

  Terry found Ted barely conscious. Although his injuries were less than what Char and Terry had suffered, he was in agony.

  “Talk to me, Ted. Let’s see those yellow eyes of yours.”

  Ted struggled and his eyelids fluttered. He couldn’t focus when he finally managed to keep his eyes open. “Did you know it was going to blow like that?”

  “Yes,” Ted mumbled.

  “Then why?” Terry pressed.

  “You have no idea what Ten is. A consciousness beyond an AI. Something with a black heart that is not driven by logic. It needs to die, but killing this ship won’t kill it. Its consciousness is split throughout the fleet,” Ted explained, his breathing steadying the more he talked.

  “I have no intention of dying, Ted, but if we are going to end this thing, then we’ll go where we have to go, do what we have to do. Did the ship launch its fighters?”

  “It did not,” Ted replied with a half-smile, before turning ominous. “Plato says that Ten is still here.”

  Terry leaned Ted against an equipment bank. He hurried back to where he’d left his JDS on the deck. He picked it up and looked at Char. She smiled back at him. Cory continued to work on Char’s back.

  “Ten is still here,” he whispered. He caressed the side of her head as he looked into her eyes. The purple was there, but the usual sparkle was gone. He nodded tersely before standing up. He stepped carefully across the room. “You said it was in here?”

  Terry pointed his pistol at the equipment bank Ted was leaning against. Ted struggled to pull himself upright.

  “Plato is collecting a little more information. When he’s done, I’ll let you know. We are using a scalpel to deal with this situation, while you,” Ted said with renewed brashness, “you are using a steamroller.”

  Terry smiled. “Yes, I am. Tell Plato to pick up the pace. The longer we let this thing live, the more damage it can cause. On a completely different note, does it separate the men and women simply to torture and control the men?”

  Ted looked to Cory and Char. “That would be the most likely reason based on what we have seen within the entity.”

  “Ten is an asshole just to be an asshole.” Terry leaned around the equipment panel, surprised that he didn’t see any lights, despite Ted’s assurances that Ten was alive. “Fuckbert McAssholeface. Holy shit. It has lived down to the name we gave it.”

  “Oddly enough, but it has been like it is for thousands of years. And despite what it said, it has no claim over this system. It’s only here to see people die horribly. We surprised it, and it is still looking for an answer to us.”

  “This stupid fucker thought it was going to blockade a planet and no one was going to help?”

  “Had we not agreed, then no. No one would have come to help them. The people of Alchon Prime would have died, and Ten would have taken great pleasure in watching.”

  “Move out of the way and let me kill this thing,” Terry snarled.

  Alien Ship of the Line #2

  A scream of rage filled the space, threatening to crush all within. Christina, Aaron, and Yanmei covered their ears. The Crenellian was not quick enough. He howled in pain as he fell to the deck and rolled around, holding his head.

  The sound tapered off until it was only a whimper.

  “Ten? How are you doing, buddy?” Christina asked, tentatively removing her hands. Aaron and Yanmei hurried to help Ankh. The small humanoid sat up and blinked away the remaining pain.

  Yanmei gave him a brief hug before he went back to work. The weretigers stood between him and the swirling blue mass.

  “What have you done?” Ten asked accusingly.

  “We are here in this space trying to learn more about you and where you come from so we can discuss how to end the blockade,” Christina replied innocently.

  “Meat-bags. Fuckbert. Infiltrators. Infestation. Aliens. Evil. Who is evil? You are trying to kill us, all that is me. You are killing humans, those who serve. They are no threat to you, but you kill them nonetheless.” The last syllable hung in the air.

  Christina looked around as if weapons would appear from the walls and turn the room into a shooting gallery. She caught Ankh’s furious movements as he tapped and interfaced with his computer tablet hardwired into the terminal.

  “Where did you hear the word ‘Fuckbert’?” Aaron asked.

  Ten didn’t bother to answer. Christina took the cue. “Let me talk to my friends on the other ships so we can stop anything that might be going on. Then we can talk on even terms.”

  “It is too late to talk. Soon, your ships will be destroyed. Know that in your failure, you will have killed all the people on Dirikon Four One Seven Zero, the planet you call Alchon Prime.” The voice disappeared.

  “Ten?” Christina tried. “Ankh, do you have anything for us? Is the alien fleet attacking the War Axe?”

  Ankh tapped away, oblivious to everything around him. Christina walked over to him, bending down to peer under the terminal. “Ankh?”

  “This ship has launched all its fighters, a
nd they are on their way to attack the War Axe. The rest of the alien fleet is starting to move.”

  “Recall the fighters, Ankh!”

  The Crenellian tapped away. He stopped and held the device against his head.

  “Osmosis?” Christina whispered over her shoulder, glancing around the space. The blue swirled behind the forcefield without interruption.

  “New chip,” Yanmei replied. “Does he have to hold his tablet like that?”

  Christina shook her head. She had grown up with technology, so it was second nature to her, and that put her well ahead of the rest of Terry’s people when it came to the learning curve. But Ankh was a new addition, albeit coming from a technologically advanced race.

  His chip had recently been upgraded from the standard translation device to a much more powerful cyber-interface, the likes of which Ted built for himself. Ankh had always trusted his oversized brain. It wasn’t natural for him to share his thought process. Ted embraced the partnership, never relinquishing control.

  Ankh was still learning. His manual interface had been too slow. Christina smiled. Helping the team on their journey of self-improvement, she thought.

  “Ten? What are you doing, buddy? We can’t have a shooting war, I hope you understand. It makes it much harder to talk.” Christina put her hands on her hips and frowned. The conversation was over. The others had gone into action and Ten was fighting back.

  “Place the explosives,” she said, resigned with the final course of action. “Ankh, if you can’t get control of those fighters, get what you can and get the hell out of there.”

  Alien Destroyer #1

  Kelly parked the mech and opened the back, hurriedly climbing out. “Get in,” she said.

  “I can’t ask you to do this,” Marcie said.

  “One of us is going to be outside in a shipsuit, regardless. It really should be the one with an intact system. I know you never would have ordered it.”

  Marcie didn’t hesitate. She climbed in, ignoring the sweat that lined the inside of the suit. She buttoned it up, and Kelly pulled her hood into place.

  “Climb on,” Marcie told her using the suit’s external speakers.

  Kelly jumped onto the mech’s back, ducking below the helmet so she wouldn’t get her head taken off as Marcie ran through the corridor.

  The eerie red glow continued. Klaxons rang throughout the ship.

  I’d try to blow a hole in the side of this thing, but if we can make the airlock, then we’ll take that route. Fitzroy. Praeter. Where are you guys?

  Inside the airlock, suited up and ready to go. We had to chase some of the crew away. They were a bit panicked.

  Did you tell them to get to their lifeboats?

  They didn’t seem to know what those were… Fitzroy let the thought linger.

  YOU CANNOT ESCAPE! boomed into Marcie’s mind. She gasped, staggered, and fell.

  I live in the shell of my mind. I am me and no one else, Marcie repeated over and over, an exercise that Joseph and Akio had both taught her. The pain in her head lessened, but Ten had a foothold. Marcie was holding the entity at bay, but able to do nothing else.

  “Uh, boss, we need to get going,” Kelly said, still clinging to the mech’s back. An explosion shook the ship. The red lights dimmed until the corridor was bathed in darkness. Kelly closed her eyes, willing her night vision to hurry up.

  I live in the shell of my mind. I live in the shell of my mind…

  The War Axe

  “Blanket the incoming with plasma rounds. See if we can channel them into a kill zone,” Micky ordered.

  Clifton maintained watch of the helm, but weapons control drove the thrusters to adjust the weapons’ aim. The ship’s nose curled in a tiny circle as the mains fired a twin stream of plasma rounds, bracketing the alien fighters.

  “Cease fire,” Micky said. The fighters had scattered, doing the opposite of what the skipper intended. “When will they be in range, Smedley?”

  “Less than two minutes, Skipper.”

  Dokken howled beyond the hatch to the bridge.

  “Open the hatch and let him in, Smedley,” the captain said softly, turning to see Dokken trot in. He dog-smiled at Micky before joining Clifton up front. “You don’t usually come to the bridge.”

  I have nowhere else to go. Can you make me a suit so I can join my goofy human next time? Dokken looked at the captain with sad brown eyes.

  “I think we can do that, Dokken. You are welcome up here any time. Do you know where Wenceslaus is? I expect he’s a bit lonely, too.”

  If I knew that, I wouldn’t be here. He would be cowering in terror as I brought the full wrath of my species upon his arrogant orange head! Dokken proclaimed.

  “He’s in the engine space, isn’t he, Smedley?”

  “He is,” the EI admitted. Micky didn’t press it.

  “You need to become friends with Lieutenant Clodagh, Dokken,” Micky advised, watching the ship icons peppering the main screen. “We will take the War Axe into battle. Prepare to fight the ship. Bulkheads are in place. Weapons are hot. K’Thrall, you have the trigger. Fire when ready.”

  A starfield of outgoing rounds from a hundred railguns appeared around the ship. Missiles launched, disappearing after the initial engine burn, before the gravitic drives took over.

  The War Axe turned sharply away from the incoming fighters and headed directly toward Alchon Prime.

  ***

  Lieutenant Clodagh Shortall stood at her workstation as she monitored the engines. A full barrage from both the mains and the close-in systems drove energy usage toward the ninetieth percentile.

  The ship was designed to handle the surges. It wasn’t designed for sustained performance at that drain. The main engines accelerated the huge ship forward, jinking and darting at irregular intervals. The main engines welcomed the challenge.

  “It looks like we’re giving them a big, hairy what-for!” she exclaimed, looking down at the orange cat curled onto a soft bed beneath her station. She adjusted coolant flows based on Smedley’s recommendations.

  The ship rocked and a dull boom reverberated through the space. One of the thrusters spiked red as it burned out. The board showed red. “Dispatch repair bot to replace damaged thruster,” she told her board. With deft taps on her console, she jettisoned the dead thruster into space and input the location and thruster type for the repair bot. The stores database confirmed that replacements were on hand and stored within that bulkhead-sealed section.

  All was in order. Clodagh wondered what was on the menu for dinner. She wanted to pull it up, but the ship lurched again, then started to roll.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Alien Destroyer #2

  Cap ran like a madman, leaping the wreckage that the other two warriors had left with their discriminating use of too much explosives on offending bulkheads.

  Kaeden’s mech pounded down the corridor. He ran through the wreckage without seeing any of the human crew.

  The humans were going to die. Kae slowed. Cap pressed forward until he couldn’t hear the major behind him. He stopped and turned, waving at Kaeden to catch up.

  “How can we get the humans off?” Kae asked, walking forward.

  “We can’t,” Cap replied tersely. “They work for the enemy. They killed a couple cargo ships and they almost killed the War Axe. They are the enemy.”

  “They’re human. I say they were raised wrong.” Kae and Capples were thrown from their feet. The ship cried out in its death throes, shaking furiously.

  “We need to go,” Cap said.

  “We need to find out where their home planet is,” Kae said, before nodding. “Belay that. We need to get the hell out of here.”

  He jumped to his feet and started to jog ahead. Cap turned and sprinted, staying barely ahead of the powered armor.

  I hope the data mining teams were successful, Kae thought. Collateral damage. Innocent bystanders. Victims. Fuck.

  “It sucks that we can’t save them all,” Kae growled.<
br />
  “The missions are designed to save as many as possible,” Cap said over his shoulder in between taking great gulps of air. “I wouldn’t want to be your dad. He carries the responsibility for every casualty on his shoulders.”

  “As much as we tell him not to.”

  “As much as I’m suggesting that you don’t either.” Cap slowed as he reached the airlock. Ramses was holding the hatch open with an armored glove. The two final members of the tac team climbed through. They cycled the hatch and punched the button to depressurize the space.

  The lights flashed on the panel and went out. The air stopped hissing and both hatches remained firmly in place.

  Alien Battleship #2

  Timmons ran with one hand on the crewman’s back, forcing him to run at a breakneck pace.

  The tac team followed, watching for an attack from the ship’s internal security force.

  “How far?” Timmons demanded.

  The man’s breathing was ragged, his face splotchy. Sweat poured down his head. They’d been running for a total of one minute. As the man turned to answer, he drifted to the side of the corridor and ran headlong into a half-opened hatch.

  The hollow sound of a melon being dropped on a sidewalk made the werewolves wince. Timmons lithely danced past the obstruction, stopping to look back at the crewman, out cold with a bump growing on the side of his head.

  “Merrit can take care of the next one,” Sue offered. “You seem to have damaged yours.”

  Timmons smirked and shook his head. “We have to be close. Everyone spread out and find the guts of this bitch.”

  “Found it,” Shonna called after two seconds. She opened an interior hatch, showing a blue light dancing within.

  “What’s that?” Sue asked.

  “I suspect it’s the power source for the ship. See the shimmer? There’s a forcefield around it. I’d call it a containment field,” Shonna explained.

  Timmons glanced at the man on the deck, shrugged, and headed for the doorway that Shonna and Merrit were stepping through. “Watch our six,” he said to Sue.