Adventures of the Starship Satori: Book 1-6 Complete Library

Home > Other > Adventures of the Starship Satori: Book 1-6 Complete Library > Page 68
Adventures of the Starship Satori: Book 1-6 Complete Library Page 68

by Kevin McLaughlin


  Dan winced. The man hadn’t set out to be a Naga tool. He’d been left behind and used by the aliens, warped into a weapon against his own people more for sport than anything else. It wasn’t like the Naga needed him desperately. They just enjoyed turning him against his own. The thought of what Paul must have gone through made Dan feel sick.

  He came across the floor panel leaning halfway against the wall. Charline’s crumpled form was behind it. She wasn’t moving. Dan knelt down beside her, pressing fingers to her throat with a quiet prayer that she was alive.

  “She’s got a pulse!” Dan called out. Beth was beside him in an instant, helping him slide Charline’s still form out from beneath the wreck.

  “I’ve got her, Dan. Go,” Beth said.

  He struggled back to his feet. Dan could barely feel his legs, they were so worn out. He’d pulled a muscle in his thigh at some point, so the best he could do was limp forward.

  The next body he saw was Paul’s. There wasn’t much left of him. The explosion had torn him to pieces, turned him into so much metal debris scattered around the hall. His head and torso were somewhat intact. His face had been exposed by the blast, but even that wasn’t recognizable anymore. That must have been what the Marine fired at, to ensure the cyborg was truly dead.

  Andy lay a short way ahead. Dan could see where the blast had picked him up and thrown him into the bulkhead like a rag by the bloodstains running down the metal. His crumpled body lay on the dead beneath. One of the Marines was there, trying to hook up an IV and feed fluids into him. Dan had never seen Andy so pale, or so still. He’d also never seen someone come back after losing so damned much blood.

  It took a supreme effort to pull himself away from his friends. But all of this would be for nothing unless they finished the job. Every sacrifice, every hardship, and every loss would be wasted if they couldn’t save their world. He glanced down at his watch. There were minutes left before it would be too late to divert the asteroid.

  Eight Marines were lined up by the doors that Dan was pretty sure led directly into the bridge. The others were either covering their rear or helping the wounded. One of the men was placing more shaped charges on the doors.

  “We’re ready to breach, sir,” Thompson said.

  “We’re not going to blow up the corridor, I take it?” Dan asked.

  “No, sir,” Thompson said with a grin. “Just the bad guys.”

  “Do it.”

  Dan pressed his back against the wall, tucking himself in behind the rear rank of Marines. He knew his way around a rifle. He’d let the pros lead the way in, but damned if he was going to sit this one out.

  The door exploded inward with a massive blast of light and sound. The metal of the two sliding doors more or less held together, but there was a big gap in the middle where they’d bent away from each other with the force of the detonation. Marines moved into that gap. The first one through the door took fire from the room inside and went down, but the next two cleared the door and returned fire while still more troops jumped in and joined the fight.

  Then it was Dan’s turn. A Naga energy bolt zipped past his cheek as he ducked through the gap and entered the bridge, firing as he went. The fight was already mostly over. On either side of him the Marines were moving in, closing on the last two Naga still trying to shoot back at them. Dan shot a few rounds in the direction of the enemy, helping to keep their heads down while Marines maneuvered close enough to finish them off.

  It was done. They had the ship, or at least the bridge. From this room they ought to be able to control the vessel, and maybe save their planet.

  “The bridge is yours, sir,” Thompson said.

  “Well done,” Dan said, clapping the sergeant on the shoulder. “You did your job. Now it’s my turn.”

  He strode forward to a console that was placed in the center of the room. The big screen it was facing had been shattered by gunfire, and it flickered wildly. It was still displaying space ahead of the Naga vessel, though. He could see the rock and he could see Earth, dead ahead. His hands hovered over the controls.

  These were different from the Naga fighter he’d flown, but they were close enough. He thought he ought to be able to figure them out with a little bit of time. Dan moved his hands over the panel uncertainly at first, but with building confidence as the nose of the cruiser slowly pivoted off to starboard, bringing the asteroid it was pushing along with it. This rock at least was no longer aimed at Earth.

  All around him the men cheered. It wasn’t hard to see what he was doing as the Earth slowly slipped off the main screen, shifting their home world out of the line of fire for the damned rock. He engaged more power to the main drives. Up ahead somewhere was the other Naga ship, where John and Majel were fighting for their lives. If they were even still alive at all.

  If they were gone, then it would be up to him to somehow destroy the other Naga cruiser. He’d do whatever it took to keep the Earth safe, even if it meant ramming them with their own ship.

  Thirty-Two

  The double doors split in front of John. His two Naga guards dragged him through into a room which had to be the bridge of the battle cruiser. There were two other Naga inside, standing in front of consoles. An enormous screen dominated the far wall, showing a clear image of Earth directly ahead. It was hard to judge distance, but John had a feel for how much time was left. Less than five minutes remained before they’d be able to drop the rock onto the planet. Just a few minutes left before it would be too late to do anything at all.

  His guards relaxed their grip on his arms a little once he was inside and the doors had shut again. Where was he going to go, after all? He had no way out. His ship was smashed and far away. It was pretty hopeless. But John wasn’t quite willing to give up yet. He forced his posture to relax, made himself cast his eyes down so they would think he was cowed. That let him scan the room carefully with his peripheral vision.

  “Go. Gather a security team and ensure nothing remains operational on their ship,” Kazresh said. “I want no last minute surprises from these mammals.”

  “But Lord Kazresh, who will guard him?” one of the Naga replied, pointing at John.

  “You think I am afraid of one hurt mammal?” Kazresh snarled. “I will shatter his bones if he breathes wrong.”

  “Yes, my lord,” the guard replied. He turned to go. The other guard released John’s arm as well and went to follow him.

  Near as John could tell there were only three weapons in the room. Kazresh had a sidearm holstered on his hip, as did both of the guards. He doubted he was going to be able to sneak the weapon away from Kazresh. If the guards left, they’d take with them his last shot at arming himself.

  If he moved and missed, they might gun him down where he stood. It wasn’t like they really needed him around to blow up the Earth. Kazresh had hauled him up here in a fit of cruelty, not out of necessity.

  They are distracted, his Cyanaut thought into his mind. Also, your ship is awake again. I can hear her thinking!

  That last startled John enough that he almost stumbled forward and ruined everything. The Cyanaut’s telepathy could reach Majel? How was that even possible? She could think. He knew that, and had accepted it. But he’d assumed biology was something related to organic brains. Hers was made of…well, he wasn’t sure precisely how the ancient computing devices were made, so for all he knew her brain was made from organic material after all.

  He managed to keep his balance. His radio microphone was still in place, attached to his space suit in front of his mouth. “Majel, distraction,” he said.

  There was no verbal reply, but the entire ship shuddered suddenly, seeming to list off to port as explosions rocked the vessel from somewhere in the rear. Those had to be the railguns pummeling their ship from the inside.

  The Naga on the bridge staggered. One of the guards reached out toward John, off balance. He slammed his palm into the bottom of its jaw, whipping the other hand down to grab its pistol. He fired once - into th
e chest of the Naga whose weapon he’d drawn. Then another time, blasting a hole in the belly of the other guard.

  Kazresh was moving straight at him. With no time to think about what he was doing, John leapt forward over the console, putting it between them. He hit the ground hard. A ripping sound in his abdomen told him he’d pulled loose the stitches Charline had placed so carefully. The warm feeling of blood against his skin and the rush of pain almost kept him from rising again.

  John forced himself up onto a knee, supporting himself with one arm. Kazresh had ducked down, nowhere to be seen. John fired twice more, taking down the other two Naga in the room as still more explosions rocked the ship.

  It was down to just him and the Naga commander.

  Kazresh wasted no time. He burst up from behind the console in a blur of motion, so fast John could barely track his movements. A claw lashed out and took John in the hand as he tried to extend the pistol to fire. The weapon flew from his fingers to crash against the wall.

  A second blow slapped John on the side of the head. He fell heavily to the deck.

  “I’ll kill you, mammal!” Kazresh snarled. “You could have lived a little longer if you’d known your place. But you’re dead now. Dead!”

  He will kick, the Cyanaut thought at John, and John was shocked to have a clear vision of precisely how Kazresh intended to kick him. He rolled to the side, and the blow flashed harmlessly past him. He struggled back to his feet.

  Drawing pistol, the Cyanaut thought. Again, John knew before Kazresh even began to move precisely how he would perform the action. The Cyanaut was doing more than feeding him the words Kazresh thought. It was giving him the motor activities a moment before the Naga actually did each attack. He slapped down, his hand striking the Naga’s claw at precisely the right moment to send its weapon spinning to the floor.

  Roundhouse swing, the Cyanaut thought. John tried to duck, but was just a hair too slow. The blow slammed into his shoulder, sending him sailing three feet through the air to smash into the wall below the view-screen.

  “John, there’s only a minute left,” Majel said into his radio.

  “Can you detonate the nuke?” he asked. He rose as quickly as he could, working to keep a little distance between himself and Kazresh.

  “They’ve disabled it,” Majel said. “They managed to board and disarm it before I was fully rebooted.”

  Kazresh laughed and walked over to one of the consoles a few feet away from John. “Your weapons are useless. Your last gambit has failed. In another moment I will press this button and the rock will wipe your accursed race from the stars.”

  John pressed his hand to his belly. He felt like his hand was literally holding himself together. The wound had to have grown worse from all the abuse his body had taken during this fight. He felt dizzy, nauseated. He was losing blood fast.

  There was something hard under his fingertips though. He ran his hand over the strange shape. It took a moment for what it was to percolate through his tired mind. It was the remote, the device they had made for Majel to be able to remotely connect to another computer. He’d tucked it into his suit before they captured him, and they’d never removed it from him.

  John started toward Kazresh with deadly intent. I will need your help in this, he thought at the Cyanaut.

  Done, it thought back. All of his pain vanished in an instant. It had to be the alien in his ear, blocking the pain impulses in his mind. Whatever it was, it gave him a clarity of thought and purpose that he hadn’t had a few moments before. There were seconds left. He needed to end this, now, or Earth was doomed.

  Nothing else mattered.

  He picked up a broken bit of steel from the deck beside him and took several fast steps toward Kazresh. Thoughts and images filled his mind as the telepathic Cyanaut filtered the Naga’s thoughts and fed them through to him. He could feel what the Naga was thinking. Every thought, every motion, every reaction, John had it at the same time Kazresh was considering it. The Naga threw a punch as soon as he was in range, and he saw it coming and dodged easily.

  Then he landed a series of blows himself, slamming spots on the snout and sides of the head that the Cyanaut told him would cause the most pain. Kazresh roared and slashed almost blindly. John ducked inside, taking the blow on a forearm. He felt his bones shatter under the impact, but didn’t feel any pain from the blow.

  He hammered three more blows in against Kazresh’s head. The Naga staggered back. It slashed out with both claws. John saw them both coming before the blows were struck, but he was only going to be able to avoid one of them unless he backed up completely, and there was no time. He dodged the one aimed at his head, allowing the other to hit his side. Claws raked through his space suit, tearing flesh to the bones beneath.

  The pain would have been agonizing if it hadn’t been blocked. He was dying. Every breath felt a little less full. Something had pierced his lungs, either bits of bone or the claws themselves.

  But that didn’t stop him from stabbing upward into the Naga’s chest with his metal rod.

  The steel stabbed through the Naga’s light armor and pierced its hide. John shoved it in again and again, until the tip punched out through the other side of Kazresh’s body.

  “Impossible,” Kazresh said, blood spilling from his mouth as he staggered forward, pawing weakly at John’s shoulder. “You’re just a mammal.”

  John let the enemy commander slump to the floor and die.

  His vision was beginning to dim. There wasn’t much time. He had nothing left, no energy, no strength. But he staggered forward to lean against the console Kazresh said had controlled the asteroid’s flight. With a shaking hand John pulled out the little cube. It was covered with blood. His blood. He lay the thing onto the console.

  “Majel, hook up with the cube. Hack this thing. Take out the drive pushing the asteroid,” he said, coughing. Blood spattered against his hand from the cough.

  “Doing it now,” she replied. There was a brief pause, then she went on. “I can’t redirect the asteroid, John. It’s too late. It’s headed for Earth.”

  John slumped against the console, sliding slowly to the floor. It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t have been too late. He coughed harder, floating in a painless fog that he knew would be intense agony without his small friend. There had to still be a way. He would not be responsible for the death of humanity. He could not allow it.

  “Can you reverse the beam pushing it?” he asked Majel. “If it slams into the ship…”

  “Calculating,” she said. “Yes. The ship has enough structural integrity that it, plus the resulting drive explosion, should break the asteroid up into mostly harmless chunks.”

  “Do it,” John said, his voice barely a whisper. “Then wormhole the ship out.”

  Another pause.

  “John…I can’t leave you.”

  “You can’t reach me, and I can’t walk. No sense both of us dying here,” he replied.

  “My primary mission imperative is to return all of the crew safely to base,” she said, her voice sounding as stubborn as Beth on a bad day. It made John want to laugh, but all that came out was more coughing.

  “That’s a machine talking. You’re more than that,” he said. “Ad astra, Majel. That’s an order.”

  “I love you, father,” Majel said. Her voice sounded to John’s tired ears like the soft words of the child he and his wife had never had.

  “Make me proud, daughter,” he whispered back.

  Then he closed his eyes, just before the entire ship exploded around him.

  Thirty-Three

  Dan had the Naga ship cruising ahead as fast as its thrusters would carry it. The ship had some inertia dampening, but whatever system the Naga used wasn’t good enough to keep up with the strain he was putting the ship under. They could all feel the ship rock and creak, and push of acceleration driving them backward.

  The other ship was in sight, but the Satori was nowhere to be seen. Dan hoped that Majel and John were OK, but
he feared the worst. If they were still at all able, he knew they would be out there fighting to keep the Naga away from Earth.

  The enemy ship was still driving the asteroid onward, and it seemed from this angle to be almost on top of the Earth. Dan clenched his teeth. He didn’t have control over the ship’s weapons yet. He didn’t know the consoles well enough to understand how to target and fire them. But he’d drive his own rock directly into the other ship. Hell, he’d ram the other ship and blow them all to bits if he had to.

  “We’re not close enough, are we?” Beth said, touching his shoulder gently. She’d come up behind him without him hearing, and her voice near his ear startled him. Her touch was a comfort, though.

  “We’re still too far away. There’s nothing I can do at this range to slow them down,” he replied. His voice trembled with suppressed frustration and rage. Everything they had done, all of their efforts and battles, and it had come down to this one moment. This final crunch time. And they were failing.

  Dan glanced at her quickly, and she nodded at him. Her face was sad. More than sad, really. He could see grief etched there. She knew the science involved, probably better than he did. She’d already done the math in her head. If Beth was already mourning their home-world, then it truly was too late to do more than avenge the billions who were about to die.

  Billions - it was too big a number to take in. A few people might survive in deep shelters somewhere, but not many. The Earth’s surface would be scrubbed clean of life. This was the end of humanity. Dan blinked away wetness from his eyes. He kept the thrusters firing on maximum burn.

  A flash ignited his screen. It was brilliant, blinding. So bright that the screen itself damped out the light, dimming automatically to protect all of their eyes.

 

‹ Prev