Starweb

by Warren James Palmer

  Ensign Meirman sat at the helmsman's console surrounded by carnage. Beside her stood lieutenant Roqual, the last surviving deck officer of the Ascension, a porpoise class destroyer of the fleet. Around them lay the corpses of the rest of the bridge crew, including Captain Nomensa. Every one of them had been shot in the head by the side-arm lieutenant Roqual carried loosely by his side. Sounds of gunfire from other parts of the ship could still be heard in the background, but on the bridge of the Ascension there was a deathly calm.

  They both stared at the large holo-viewer which dominated the bridge. There, looking back at them with infinite sadness, was the face of Fleet Admiral Donahue.

  ‘It all happened very quickly, Admiral,’ the lieutenant told her wearily, his eyes bloodshot and his face pale. ‘One moment they were all acting as normal, the next they were like zombies—the lights were on, but nobody was home.’

  ‘What about the Ensign and yourself?’ Donahue asked them gently. ‘Do you know why you haven’t been affected? You have no symptoms of the nanobot virus?’

  ‘Not as yet ma’am. We tested positive for the nanobots, just the same as everybody else. I guess it’s just a question of time…’ Ensign Meirman answered shakily. She was also visibly pale and shaking, her eyes wide and afraid. The truth was, she was in shock and traumatised by what had happened; how could she not be? It took all of her willpower to sit at he console, rather than to scream and try and run and hide. But then, where was there to hide?

  ‘As agreed with the captain… once it was clear… that the nanobots had rendered them unable to…er… think for themselves, I killed…er… I mean.. I dispatched them…’ Lieutenant Roqual told the admiral haltingly. He too was clearly in shock, and only just managing to hold it together. Only his training and concern for the ensign and what was left of the crew, stopped him from turning the rifle on himself.

  ‘I can hear gunfire in the background.’ Admiral Donahue said with a frown. There was no questioning the courage of these young people, but they were only human. They could not be expected to function and deal with such horror for much longer. ‘Is there fighting going on?’

  ‘Some of the infected have vomited that green gunge,’ Ensign Meirman replied quietly. ‘There are a few survivors like us left, attempting to keep the arachnids at bay. Others are turning their side-arms on themselves…’

  ‘The bridge is sealed ma’am,’ Lieutenant Roqual added. ‘Nothing can get in…or out… That includes fresh air…’

  ‘I see…’ the Admiral replied simply. It was heart-breaking, but they all knew what had to be done. There was no choice.

  ‘You have done more than anyone could expect in such horrific circumstances,’ she told them. ‘Stand-down now. Make yourselves as comfortable as you can. We can take it from here. The Invincible will input the final commands to the Ascension’s navigation AI. We can guide your ship to her final destination, there is no need for you to do more.’

  Ensign Meirman glanced at the lieutenant who nodded briefly. Then she turned back to the holo-viewer and said quietly, but firmly to the Admiral. ’Ma’am, the lieutenant and I discussed this before calling yourself. The Ascension is our home and the crew were…are… our family.’ She hesitated and her eyes drifted to the bodies of the unfortunate souls surrounding her, before returning to the holo-viewer. ‘With all due respect, we would like to fly her to the final destination ourselves ma’am. At least for as long as we have the cognitive ability to do so. If our course deviates at all, the Invincible can guide the Ascension the rest of the way.’

  ‘It is what our Captain and crew would have wanted,’ Lieutenant Roqual added earnestly.

  Admiral Donahue paused and thought about the request for a moment. In truth it was the least she could do, and as the young lieutenant pointed out, they could guide the Ascension remotely if necessary.

  ‘So be it,’ she agreed. ‘The flight path has been uploaded to your nav AI. I suggest you implement it whilst you can. Your courage and loyalty will not be forgotten. The Ascension will become part of history.’

  ‘Thank you ma’am.’ The two deck officers replied together.

  ‘God Speed…’ the fleet admiral bade them, then ended the communication.

  Fleet Admiral Donahue stared at the blank screen for a moment, lost in thought. The communication with the two remaining deck officers of the Ascension had hit her hard. As a senior naval fleet officer, she was steeled to the idea of losing personnel in combat, but this was different. The responsibility of having to kill your friends and colleagues, rather than see them succumb to the nanobots was something none of them had signed up for. It was beyond horrific, it was… abominable. This insidious attack upon the human race—warped as it was by science, left her feeling helpless, panicked even. Not that she would allow anyone to see her true feelings, but it was as hard for herself to continue the fight, as it undoubtedly was for those who served underneath her. The blackness of overwhelming despair, threatened to envelop them all.

  ‘Ma’am,’ her adjutant interrupted her thoughts and thankfully intruded into the dark abyss she was staring into. ‘Calls are coming in from all over the fleet. What happened to the Ascension….it’s now being repeated everywhere…’

  So, this was it, the end was in sight, she thought to herself before replying. Maybe the two brave young officers on the Ascension were the lucky ones…

  The Ascension fell away from its picket position in the TWDF fleet and accelerated towards the Starweb hordes. It left a clearly visible plume of gases venting from battle damage and blazed a trail towards its target. Perceiving the imminent threat, swarms of needle-nosed Webfighters descended upon the Terran destroyer, whilst escorting Flyships and Snubfighters attempted to clear a path for the Ascension’s final voyage. The dogfighting was brutal, with the Webfighters vastly outnumbering the Terran fighters. At times it looked as if the Ascension would be stopped in its tracks when the Webfighters finally broke through the defensive net. The Porpoise Class destroyer visibly shuddered from the impact of multiple strafing attacks, and increasingly large sections of the battered ship broke away, spinning into space. Yet, the Terran vessel bravely continued on its course, as if shrugging off whatever was thrown at it.

  On the bridge of the Ascension, Ensign Meirman ignored the grisly corpses of her unfortunate colleagues and concentrated on maintaining their course to target. Behind her, Lieutenant Roqual sat at the weapons station, controlling the ship’s remaining guns turrets in an attempt to keep the attacking Webfighters at bay. It was a fight they could never win, but he might just delay the inevitable long enough.

  Despite their ever increasing velocity it seemed to Ensign Meirman to take a lifetime for them to reach their target. Certainly long enough for her to look back on the short twenty two years of her life. Memories of her family and childhood in Kenya flashed through her mind. Joyful memories tainted by the sadness of knowing she would never see her parents and siblings again. It had been her dream to go to the stars, so she had studied hard and excelled at the TWDF Fleet College. This was not how it was supposed to end…not now…not like this…Her eyes filled with tears and the vision of the titanic Starweb dreadnought that filled the holo-viewer became blurred.

  The Ascension hit the Starweb dreadnought just in front of the gargantuan main powerplants. The artificial singularities onboard both the Porpoise Class destroyer and the titanic dreadnought catastrophically collapsed at virtually the same time. There was a flash of light, brighter than the sun, followed by an expanding ball of energy that devoured everything within a one hundred click radius. Webfighters and unfortunate TWDF fighters were all snuffed out of existence, whilst escorting Starweb corvettes and destroyers faired no better.

  Ensign Meirman, Lieutenant Roqual and the crew of the Ascension were no more. They had all fought their final battle and destroyed many a Starweb vessel. It was just a shame that their brave actions made little impact upon the total numbers of the Starweb fleet, which sailed serenely on towards the p
lanet Earth.

  From the depleted ranks of the TWDF fleet appeared more and more ships intent upon making the ultimate sacrifice.

  Three World Defence Force headquarters. Beneath the Himalayas.

  16.40hrs, Universal Standard Time. August 21st 2057.

  Josh Brabazon pushed himself away from the desk and then found himself being lifted physically by the shoulders and dragged away. The face of Admiral Chenekov contorted and writhed at the opposite end of the conference room where she had been sat in front of a different video-cam to his own. She projectile vomited everywhere a bright green fluid, which swarmed with a mass of arachnids. Her arms flailed in front of her and her eyes bulged in horror. There was a loud crack from a fire-arm and the admiral fell lifeless to the floor.

  ‘Move!’ a security officer yelled into his ear. He scrabbled to find his footing, and would have fallen, if it were not for the additional pair of strong hands which caught him. Literally lifted off his feet by a security officer on each arm, he was dragged out of the conference room, hastily followed by the remaining security detail. Out of the corner of his eye Brabazon saw one of the heavily-armed troops lob a hand-grenade back into the room before slamming the heavy blast-door shut. There was a muted crump and then they were on the move once more. This time Brabazon found his feet and surrounded by the security detail, moved rapidly down the corridor, accompanied by the sounds of gunfire and explosions which reverberated though the subterranean base.

  They turned a corner and were confronted by a group of WDF troopers standing gormless, vacant expressions on their faces. A young trooper, no older than twenty three, slid down the stone wall of the passageway and landed on his posterior. His mouth opened and a gush of the green gunge came pouring out. The rest of the group made no attempt to step out of the way of the advancing tide of arachnids, their blank eyes staring into space. As if sensing the arrival of Josh Brabazon and his security cordon, the green goo began to flow towards them, the tiny arachnids swimming in the nutrient rich fluid.

  The leading pair of the security squad let loose volleys of automatic fire, killing the nanobot-infected troopers. However, the tide of green gunge continued to advance towards them. The tall squad leader span Brabazon around on his heels and gave him a firm shove. The rest of the detachment turned back the way they had come and began to move swiftly away.

  ‘Jackson! What the frack are you doing man!’ the squad leader suddenly yelled out to the rearmost of their group. Jackson ignored the call, stopped and turned back towards the approaching gunge. He stepped towards the advancing arachnids and calmly pulled out a hand-grenade from his ammo pouch. Without a word, Jackson held the grenade aloft and pulled the pin, then he placed the explosive into his mouth. Too big to fit completely, he had to hold the grenade to his mouth as traces of green gunge seeped past his lips. Jackson knew what was happening to him and was determined stop the bio-nanobots taking control of his body.

  “Shit…! Run!’ Squad Sergeant Dunbar shouted. Brabazon and the remaining four members of the squad didn’t need any further encouragement. They all ran as fast as they could, hell bent on getting as far away as possible. They dived around the corner of a side passage and ended up in a pile on the floor when the grenade exploded. There was a crump and the remains of Jackson and green goo pebble-dashed the corridor behind them.

  Brabazon dragged himself off the floor, his ears ringing. He dusted himself down, ignoring the flecks of flesh and gunge on his lab-coat. Around him the rest of the squad got up, coughing from the clouds of subterranean dust the explosion had created. He looked down at the ground in front of himself and saw his tablet computer. It was smashed, crushed under the weight of bodies, kit and weapons. Any chance he now had of completing the mission the Admiral and himself had previously agreed on, relied entirely up him reaching his office in the lab complex. There was now no way to remotely send the codes from his tablet. Sergeant Dunbar saw the direction of Brabazon’s gaze.

  ‘Buggered?’ he asked bluntly.

  ‘Very…’

  ‘What now?’

  ‘I need to get to my office. The workstation there is the only other place I can send the codes from.’ Brabazon answered meeting the tall trooper’s gaze.

  ‘That’s two levels down…’ Dunbar told him. ‘It wont be easy. Not now…We’ll have to fight our way there.’

  ‘I know, but there’s no other option,’ Brabazon replied firmly. ‘It’s imperative those codes get sent.’

  Sergeant Dunbar nodded. He’d been briefed on the mission by Admiral Chenekov. He was aware of what was at stake. The codes were their last roll of the dice; humanities last chance. ‘OK you lazy bastards! Up on your feet! We’re moving out….’

  ‘Where to sarge?’ one of the squad demanded, wiping goo and dirt from her distraught face.

  ‘To the elevator, of course…follow me idiots!’ he told them.

  The squad formed a protective group around Brabazon and followed Dunbar up the passageway, the sounds of other gun battles reverberating through the caverns. They moved rapidly up one passageway, then turned left into another, encountering several small gormless groups of infected souls along the way. However, there were no more instances of projectile-vomiting green-gunge, so the group were able to side-step the vacant, nanobot infected personnel, without too much difficulty. Meanwhile, the sounds of small-arms fire continued to reverberate throughout the complex. A reminder that other surviving groups were facing their own struggles.

  They reached the services lift without further incident and Sergeant Dunbar gratefully hit the call button. After an anxious wait, which seemed to last forever, the lift arrived and the large doors opened. Dunbar and his remaining team had taken position on each side of where the doors slide open, with Brabazon kept safely out of line of sight. They rapidly swept the interior for occupants, but it was thankfully clear. Then they swiftly entered the elevator and Dunbar punched the button for the second-lower floor, which housed Brabazon’s laboratory. It was only when they turned to face the closing doors that they realised the young female trooper, Micaela wasn’t with them. She stood on the other side of the threshold looking in, but making no attempt to enter the lift.

  ‘Micaela!’ Dunbar called out to her, ‘What are you playing at? Get your arse in here, before the doors close!’

  She shook her head sadly and a single tear ran down her cheek. ‘It’s all over for me,’ she said. ’I can feel them coming...’

  As the doors closed in front of them, the last they saw of Micaela was the sad look on her face as she lifted her side-arm to her temple. The lift began its descent and they could hear the muted sounded of a single shot.

  ‘Shit, shit, shit…’ Sergeant Dunbar whispered. Josh Brabazon closed his eyes and tried to shut out the horror of what was happening around him. So many young lives were being wiped out by the nanobot pandemic. It was a heart-breaking catastrophe.

  They all remained silent, lost in thought, for the short period it tool the elevator to complete its descent. Once again, Brabazon remained shielded by Dunbar and the two surviving members of the security detail when they arrived at the lower floor level, and the doors eased open. Their period of reflective solitude came to an abrupt halt when hands, then limbs, then entire bodies, forced themselves into the lift as soon as there was a gap in the doors. There were curses and screams as wild-eyed people fought to get into the elevator, ignoring Brabazon and the two remaining members of the security detail.

  ‘What the frack!’ Sergent Dunbar exclaimed in alarm. ’Get out the way! Move! Let us out!’ he shouted at the panicked people, but they were too afraid to pay any attention to him. Herd instinct had overcome them all, and they were in full-flight mode. Brabazon saw quite a few faces he recognised, their white lab coats marking them out as colleagues from the science labs. He tried calling some of them by name, in an attempt to get their attention, but their eyes were wide with terror and they ignored him.

  Dunbar grabbed Brabazon by the arm and hung on
to him grimly. With his spare arm he began to barge men and women out of their way. Using his physical size and height, combined with the butt of his machine pistol, the squad leader began to force a path out of the elevator. There were cries of alarm and protest, but brute force was the only way to fight through their herd instincts and overcome their fear. Brabazon kept close to the giant squad leader and gradually they made headway through the sea of bodies. The other two members of the squad were less fortunate. They were positioned at the far corners of the large elevator when the doors opened, and had further to go to reach the doors. Brabazon lost sight of the two troopers as they fought against the frightened masses. Brabazon heard gunfire from the general direction of the rear of the lift and as Dunbar and himself finally reached the threshold of the doors, there was more gunfire and screaming. The automatic doors tried to close, but the crush of bodies restricted their movement. Suddenly, as the gunfire from the elevator interior increased in volume, and the mass hysteria reached new levels; the tide of bodies changed, as people tried to get out the way. Dunbar and Brabazon, still hanging desperately on to each other, were propelled away from the elevator and into the passageway. The doors finally managed to close as the elevator emptied, trapping those remaining inside. There was the unmistakable crump of a grenade exploding and wisps of smoke emanated from the door seals.

  There was no time for sergeant Dunbar to grieve the loss of the last two members of the security squad. He was too busy battering people out of the way in a bid to get Brabazon to the science labs. They fought their way to the edge of the crowd, which now milled about in the passageway, without direction or purpose—other than to flee.