Tyche's Demons: A Space Opera Military Science Fiction Epic (Ezeroc Wars: Tyche's Progeny Book 1)
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Providence expected someone to shout at Dustin, but no one did. The angry man was staring at his launcher like he couldn’t believe what happened. Daisy crouched next to Providence again, holding Providence’s chin in Daisy’s hand. “Providence. We’ve got to go. Can you get this open?”
Nodding, Providence turned back to the door. With a chime, the van opened. “Inside,” said Gabby. She slung herself behind the driver’s controls, nodding at Providence to join her up front. Dustin held the back open while Daisy climbed in. Providence was sure they were about to go as Alan gave a last look around the street. A manhole cover beside him popped up, grasping Ezeroc claws reaching up. He gave a yell, firing into the hole with his weapon, before being dragged down. The Marine was still fighting, then looked right at them. His eyes seemed to say not like this.
“Jacobi!” shouted Gabby.
“No shot,” said Dustin.
“Fuckit,” said Gabby, pushing the van’s throttles to their stop. The electric motor accelerated like a blender, driving over the top of Alan and his Ezeroc, and with a crunch and a spray of red on the windscreen, another Marine was gone. Just like that, a gentle man who should have been selling cats or goldfish was taken away.
“And then there were three,” said Dustin.
“Four,” said Providence.
• • •
The drive to the evac zone was done at breakneck speed. The van’s engine whined, but not fast enough. Providence knew the math. They had minutes at best before the station crashed into the city, the kinetic promise of a twenty-deck facility enough to raze all life from here in the blink of an eye.
She popped the front of the van’s console off, exposing electronics. She pulled the wedge of her personal console from her pocket, the plastic of her jacket crinkling, and connected the van’s diagnostic port to her device.
“What the hell are you doing, kid?” said Gabby.
“Making us go faster,” said Providence.
“Solid copy,” said Gabby.
Providence pulled up the diagnostics. The van was a freight unit, designed for high load at lower speeds. The motor inside was connected to the drivetrain through gearing designed for torque. The beauty of electric motors was they could be encouraged to ever greater feats of speed, right until they passed their engineering tolerance and died, sometimes with catastrophic results.
Nothing could be more catastrophic than a station crashing on top of you, so Providence told the machine that no, safety limits were more like friendly advice. The van clunked, then the motor’s whine turned into a scream. Providence was pushed back in her seat as the machine whizzed along the deserted streets. The odd other vehicle was stopped in the street, but Gabby piloted them around without even swapping paint.
“You’re a good driver,” said Providence.
“Used to race the derby,” said Gabby.
“Okay,” said Providence. “What’s a derby?”
“Tell you later,” said Gabby, eyes on the road.
The interior of the van started to smell like ozone, but ahead buildings gave way to an expansive area, a series of small shuttles waiting. “Did we expect to be evacuated?” said Providence. “Why did no one tell my dad?”
“Military facility,” said Gabby, as if that explained everything.
Daisy leaned forward. “This base has shuttles ready for lifting cargo,” she said. “We’re going to be a different kind of cargo, is all.”
“Where are all the people?” said Providence.
“Best not to ask,” said Dustin, from the back of the van. “The answer isn’t going to fill you with warmth and happiness.”
Gabby pointed the van at the open gates of the facility, sending them inside in a screech of smoke from tires never designed for this kind of abuse. The van’s HUD blinked then went dark, the machine whining down. “What’s happening?” said the Marine.
Providence held up her personal console, the display dark. “Um,” she said.
Daisy’s head was cocked to one side like she was listening. “EMP,” she said. “Up there.”
“Okay,” said Gabby. “Then we’re on foot.” She kicked the door open, hefting her plasma rifle. She fired an experimental shot towards the sky. “Weapons are still good. Must have been the for-kids edition of an EMP.”
Providence slipped out of the van, joining Gabby on the ceramicrete. The shuttles were maybe five hundred meters away. Too far away to walk and have any chance of getting clear. “Run,” she suggested, then took her own advice, plastic jacket crinkling as she ran.
Gabby kept pace with her, Dustin running ahead to take point. Providence saw Daisy was behind them on rear guard duty, a small blaster pistol held low and ready.
From the right, a horde of Ezeroc burst from a low slung building. They didn’t use the door, just tearing through the walls, six legs bringing them closer with frightening speed. Providence tried to run faster. Plasma fzzzt-cracked across the ceramicrete, turning the insects into stumbling pyres. But there were so many of them.
Ahead, the safety of a shuttle loomed. It was a small unit, not much bigger than the van, stubby wings jutting out from the fuselage. Dustin was almost there when another pod cracked down off their left. The Marine turned and fired his launcher, the pod exploding into fragments. Another pod landed near the ruins of the first, but when it landed Providence saw the door was already missing.
Where has the humanoid inside gone?
The question was answered by a humanoid crunching on top of Dustin, compacting the human beneath it in a shower of gore. Gabby fired her plasma rifle at the humanoid but it was like she was stuck in slow motion, the figure moving around like a trick of the light. So fast. It’s so fast.
There was a pink-chunk, and Gabby was gone, a haze of red mist where she used to be. Tatters of her Marine armor clattered to the ground, a trail of smoke wisped away by the wind. Providence had a moment to consider what kind of weapon had the kind of kinetic potential it took to not only set the air on fire but also to turn a human into a haze before Daisy pushed her into the waiting shuttle. The Bulwark officer turned, facing the humanoid, then raised her hand, curling fingers into a fist.
The humanoid’s arms were pulled close to its side as if invisible strings were tightening. Daisy gave a half-yell, half-scream, and the humanoid figure was tossed through the air to land fifty meters back. Daisy stepped into the shuttle, took a glance outside, then shook her head. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.” Like she was trying to convince herself of something.
“Come on,” said Providence. “We’ve got to go.”
“Yeah. Only, we don’t make it off this crust if that fucking machine isn’t dealt with,” said Daisy. She tapped on the console inside the shuttle’s airlock. “Good luck, kid.” She stepped outside, airlock hissing closed behind her. Providence stood inside the otherwise empty shuttle as Endless fields engaged, lifting her off the deck. Autopilot. She’s put this on autopilot.
Face pressed against the airlock glass, Providence watched the Bulwark officer, white armor gleaming in the sun, face the approaching Ezeroc horde. Daisy was yelling at them as they came, a blade in one hand, blaster in the other. Providence hammered at the glass, wanting Daisy to hear her. To not have thrown down her life for someone who wasn’t even an Engineer yet.
The machine was racing forward, weapon pointed at the shuttle. Providence saw the moment Daisy made the choice to buy the shuttle one more second of time. The Bulwark officer could have held off the Ezeroc, or she could have controlled the machine again. Not both.
The humanoid machine raised its weapon to fire, then was knocked off its feet. The round went wide, missing the shuttle, which turned its fusion drives towards the ground. Providence lay against the rear airlock as the Ezeroc boiled over the top of Daisy, then felt the shuttle roar its defiance. Fire blazed against the ground, immolating all below as it clawed for the sky.
Tears streamed from Providence’s eyes, pulled against the airlock glass. She was unable to l
ook away, hard thrust holding her in place as fire bathed the grave of a brave woman who wouldn’t let the enemy take a child.
• • •
The journey of the Tyche continues in Tyche’s Ghost. Why not treat yourself today?
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