Defiance (Atlantia Series Book 5)

by Dean Crawford

  ‘You’re serious?’ the CAG asked. ‘You want to bring them in on this?’

  Idris glared at Andaim. ‘Isn’t that what you all wanted, commander?’

  Andaim said nothing but glanced again at the main viewing screen that showed the massive Morla’syn cruisers now in position and surrounding the frigates, two unidentified vessels flanking them.

  ‘Galactic scout ships,’ Lael said as Atlantia’s scanners swept the two vessels and data spilled onto the screens near the captain. ‘They’re from the council’s fleet.’

  Idris sucked in a deep breath and let it spill out, relief flooding his system.

  ‘At least we’re not just facing the Morla’syn,’ he said finally. ‘Have they attempted to establish contact?’

  ‘Nothing yet,’ Lael replied. ‘Doesn’t look good.’

  ‘Send a signal,’ Idris said. ‘The sooner we get them talking, the sooner they won’t be thinking about opening fire.’

  Lael complied as Idris stole a furtive glance across at Andaim. The CAG’s broad jaw seemed none the worse for wear after their confrontation, but Idris was aware that now he too had overstepped the mark, his actions liable for several forms of disciplinary action under normal admiralty rules. But, as he tried to remind himself, there was no longer an admiralty and there was no effective structure to enforce punishment on officers convicted of criminal activity. Idris realized somewhat belatedly that despite everything, both Gredan and Andaim had been right. Atlantia’s hierarchy had become such that there was nothing but a form of executive power holding sway at the top of the chain, and the whole ship was in danger of slipping into a state of tyranny with Idris at its head.

  He felt a pall of shame descend across his shoulders as he realized just how close he was to becoming a dictator, a man who used force and even violence to maintain control over those beneath him in rank.

  ‘Damn it,’ he cursed under his breath.

  A hand rested on his shoulder and he looked up to see Meyanna looking down at him.

  ‘It’s not all on you,’ she said softly. ‘It can’t all be on you.’

  Idris offered her a weak smile. ‘That’s the problem, there’s nobody else.’

  ‘Captain?’

  Idris looked up and saw Lael gesture to the main viewing screen. ‘The Morla’syn are opening a link.’

  Idris sighed and wearily got to his feet once more, straightened his uniform and prepared to address whoever had surrounded them, on behalf of the last two thousand human beings alive in the cosmos. He took a deep breath and nodded to Lael.

  The viewing screen flickered and a face appeared upon it, a long, regally featured, bi–pedal humanoid species known as the Morla’syn who had emerged as something of an implacable foe to Idris and his people.

  ‘General Veer, of the destroyer Archangel,’ the Morla’syn announced himself imperiously, looking down at Idris with large, slanted eyes shaded a deep blue that perfectly matched his pale skin, as though all of the lifeblood had been drained from his body. Veer’s digitally translated voice sounded far more natural than the series of high–intensity sonar clicks that Idris could hear, the Morla’syn’s natural form of communication.

  ‘Captain Idris Sansin, CFS Atlantia,’ Idris replied. ‘We apologize for not announcing our presence in Galactic Space, but our situation is dire and we have come in the hope of gaining the assistance of…’

  ‘Your vessels are on a watch–list of aggressors known to have attacked Morla’syn ships along the Icari Line,’ Veer cut across him. ‘You recently disabled one such vessel before fleeing.’

  Idris nodded.

  ‘We came under attack, as did the vessel we were attempting to protect, a Colonial ship known as Endeavour.’

  ‘The circumstances of the attack are now irrelevant,’ Veer snapped. ‘You are targeted for destruction with the blessing of the Galactic Council’s Chief of Staff.’

  Idris took a pace closer to the screen. ‘That would be a mistake, General.’

  ‘The only mistake we have ever made is in believing that humankind would remain within the boundaries of the Icari Line, that you would succeed in overcoming your weaknesses and flaws and grow to become a member of the wider Galactic community. Instead, you are warmongers bent on your own destruction and that of the cosmos around you. No race or species has any interest in your affairs any longer, and wishes only to see you relegated to extinction as soon as possible.’

  Idris clenched his fists by his side. ‘We’ve already had this conversation with the Morla’syn once before, and it turns out they were twisting the Council’s words to suit their own purposes. None of us trust anything that you’re saying, and we will not stand down until the council has heard our plea.’

  ‘There will be no plea,’ Veer snapped. ‘Humanity has no place beyond the Icari Line and will be exterminated wherever it is found.’

  ‘The Icari Line is a prison that no longer has any walls,’ Idris shot back. ‘And every species is about to be exterminated wherever it is found as soon as the Legion arrives, which it will.’

  ‘The Legion will be likewise annihilated,’ Veer retorted confidently.

  ‘You think so?’ Idris asked. ‘Because we found the Legion in ambush on a world not more than a few light years from here, and it looked alive and well to us!’

  General Veer’s skin darkened slightly and he peered at Idris. ‘You lie. The Word’s Legion has spread only as far as Wraiythe, and the Veng’en are fighting back.’

  ‘The Legion has not just been spreading since the apocalypse on Ethera,’ Idris replied. ‘We recently learned that elements of the Legion have been expanding into the cosmos for decades and are lying in wait for the right moment to strike, just like they did on Ethera. That’s their preferred method of attack, General – ambush, in overwhelming numbers, like insects swarming upon prey. If they’re out this far, they’ve likely already infected the Galactic Centre.’

  Veer visibly recoiled from the screen and glanced across the bridge of his warship as he communicated with his own people, his translator temporarily shut–off as he exchanged a series of terse clicks and squeals with his crew.

  ‘That is not possible,’ Veer snapped. ‘No human vessel has entered Galactic Space since the apocalypse on Ethera.’

  ‘Except a single Special Forces unit,’ Idris countered, ‘the same one that was being pursued by the Morla’syn destroyer that attacked us and we were forced to defend against. No doubt they forgot to mention that it was us who defeated the Special Forces soldiers in battle, not them.’

  Veer’s narrow, thin lips twisted in anger. ‘The human invaders were killed by a Morla’syn crew in revenge for attacks against merchant ships in our sovereign space. The captain of our vessel was commended by the Morla’syn high council for valour.’

  Idris let a rueful little smile curl from his lips. ‘I bet he was. I bet the Morla’syn high council will wonder how such a small Special Forces gunship could have caused such immense damage to a Morla’syn cruiser too, the kind of damage that might be caused by, say, two Colonial frigates?’

  ‘This is irrelevant!’ General Veer raged.

  ‘Not if the humans were infected when they travelled beyond the Icari Line,’ Idris shot back. ‘That would place modern, highly efficient Infectors in Galactic Space, and specifically, Morla’syn space. We’ve managed to figure out how to immunise ourselves against infection, one of the few advantages of having to fight the Legion for so long. You’re compromised, General, and in danger of infection yourselves. The last thing you want to be doing is destroying us. It’s you who needs our help.’

  General Veer waved Idris dismissively away as he cackled something to his crew off–screen and the link was abruptly shut off. Idris let out a long breath of air and slumped back into his seat.

  ‘That was gutsy,’ Andaim said from one side.

  Idris turned to him, wearily preparing himself for another criticism, but none came. Idris sensed an olive branch.

  �
�You think they’ll buy it?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Andaim shrugged, ‘but you’ve sure given them something to think about. Not sure how you’re going to square that off with the Legion aboard Arcadia.’

  ‘I hadn’t got that far yet,’ Idris admitted. ‘We need to speak to Mikhain.’

  ‘We’re still being jammed,’ Lael said. ‘They’re not going to let us speak to Arcadia and give us time to formulate an attack plan.’

  Idris nodded. ‘Where are Reaper Squadron now?’

  ‘Ten thousand cubits,’ Andaim said, ‘in four pairs, combat air patrols.’

  ‘What about the Morla’syn fighters?’

  ‘Holding their ground between us and them,’ Andaim said as he checked his displays. ‘They’re not attacking. Something must be holding them back.’

  The main viewing screen flickered into life once more and General Veer’s pale image reappeared.

  ‘You will maintain close battle flight and your weapons systems will be deactivated,’ he announced.

  ‘Is that so? On whose orders?’

  ‘Mine,’ Veer snapped back. ‘You do not have the luxury of leverage over your fate, captain. If you wish to address the Galactic Council and make your plea, you will be required to form a mass–sphere with your sister ship in order that we can travel as a fleet to Oassia.’

  Captain Sansin concealed his relief as he nodded.

  ‘Very well, General Veer. We will deactivate our weapons as you request, and recover our fighters prior to leaping to super–luminal.’

  ‘Your trajectory will be guided by our systems,’ General Veer informed him. ‘Be ready to depart in precisely ten Etheran minutes.’

  The screen blanked out and returned to an image of Arcadia in the distance, loomed over by a Morla’syn destroyer.

  ‘Do it,’ Idris nodded to Andaim, who relayed the order for Reaper Squadron to land immediately.

  Meyanna hurried to her husband’s side. ‘You’re threatening them with the possibility that they’re already infected, and then bringing the Legion with us aboard Arcadia to Oassia? If they find out that we’re carrying those machines with us, and especially Lazarus and Kordaz, they’ll blast us to hell in the blink of an eye.’

  Idris nodded. ‘I know, but it’s either that or inform them that Arcadia is a plague ship and let them vaporize her. I’m not willing to do that to a thousand innocent civilians.’

  ‘The Morla’syn might not hesitate so easily,’ Meyanna pointed out.

  ‘Then the burden of guilt will be upon them and not us!’

  Meyanna flinched from him and he sighed and reached out for her hand, took it in his and held it quietly for a moment. He turned and looked at the image on the main viewing screen of Arcadia.

  ‘We’ve just got to hope that General Bra’hiv and his men can clean that ship up before we make it to the Galactic Council, or this is going to be a real short trip.’

  ***

  XI

  ‘And you’re sure this will work?’

  Mikhain stood before Bra’hiv’s Marines and the towering, silent form of Kordaz as they assembled inside Arcadia’s flight deck.

  ‘He can sniff them out,’ Bra’hiv said as he gestured to Kordaz. ‘That’s more than we can do, so how about it?’

  Mikhain nodded, knowing he had no option but to go along with the plan.

  ‘We won’t have long. Atlantia’s recalled her fighters from CAP and they’re landing as we speak. My guess is that they’re going to slave our navigation computers to the Morla’syn ships and we’ll all be taking a little ride to Oassia. It’s only a few hours away, General. Whatever you’ve got in mind, that’s all the time we have to do it.’

  General Bra’hiv whirled and waved his Marines past as they marched toward the deck exits heading aft toward the sections of the ship that had been sealed off by the captain. Bra’hiv hesitated alongside Mikhain as the captain grabbed his shoulder.

  ‘How’s Idris holding up?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He’s been under a lot of pressure lately, and he was making an effort to defend Kordaz from the board of governors before the Morla’syn arrived. Now Kordaz is here and free to wander about Arcadia. What happened?’

  The general gave a vague shrug and pushed past Mikhain.

  ‘My rank means I don’t have to worry about things like that,’ he replied. ‘That’s your job.’

  The general hurried after his men, Mikhain watching them go as his mind raced. Governor Gredan and his bureaucrat friends aboard Atlantia had been screaming for Kordaz’s blood for weeks now, demanding an open trial before the civilians rather than the court martial behind closed doors favoured by Sansin.

  Lieutenant Scott strode to the captain’s side, one eye on the huge Veng’en as he disappeared into an adjoining corridor, surrounded by the Marine escort.

  ‘What’s he doing here?’ Scott asked.

  ‘They’re using him to locate the Legion, wherever it’s hiding,’ Mikhain replied. ‘The governors must have him over a barrel or something.’

  ‘Must’ve been a sweet deal to get him out of the prison cells and over here,’ Scott observed.

  Mikhain nodded but did not reply as a tanoy burst into life over the noise of maintenance work ongoing in the hangar.

  ‘All stations, prepare for super–luminal cruise in five, four, three…’

  ‘That’s it, we’re heading for Oassia,’ Scott said.

  ‘…one.’

  The light in the landing bays became briefly polarised and the massive frigate surged forwards and then settled down into super–luminal cruise. Mikhain looked at his wrist–display, noted the time, and then pulled Lieutenant Scott to one side.

  ‘Something’s going on here and I don’t like it,’ he confided. ‘The Marines aboard Arcadia could have conducted the search, and why send General Bra’hiv and that damned Veng’en over here anyway when we have our own Marines? We could have used microwave scanners and Devlamine traps to burn the Legion wherever we found it.’

  Lieutenant Scott frowned. ‘Why does it matter? I think it’s quite a good idea: Kordaz can hunt them down more quickly than our teams scouring the ship deck by deck, and we only have a few hours.’

  Mikhain nodded, his instincts alive with the sense that he was missing something of great importance.

  ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘You have the bridge, XO.’

  Lieutenant Scott nodded and turned, hurrying away toward the exits. Mikhain waited until he was gone and then activated his communicator. Moments later, a voice replied.

  ‘Yes, captain?’

  ‘Lieutenant Neville,’ Mikhain addressed the senior officer of Arcadia’s Marine contingent. ‘I need you to deploy a tracking team, quietly.’

  ‘Understood sir, what’s the target?’

  Mikhain eyed the bay exits where Bra’hiv’s men had disappeared. ‘Bravo Company’s Marines, lieutenant. I don’t want that Veng’en secretly communicating with the Legion and placing the soldiers around him in jeopardy. Listen in, and report anything you hear back to me directly.’

  ‘Yes sir!’

  *

  ‘The locked down section of the hull is just ahead.’

  The Lance Corporal leading them looked nervous as Bra’hiv checked his rifle one more time and glanced up at Kordaz. ‘You sense anything?’

  Kordaz did not look back at the General as he replied. ‘They’re close. I can feel them.’

  ‘This gives me the creeps,’ one of the Marines said from behind the General.

  ‘Focus on the job,’ Bra’hiv snapped. ‘Qayin, on point.’

  The big Marine shouldered his way to the front of the platoon as they neared a series of blast doors that had been sealed shut, microwave scanners aligned nearby to create a shield that prevented the Legion’s machines from advancing beyond the doors should they chew through them.

  It had been discovered by Meyanna Sansin that although the swarms of machines the Legion utilized were virtually ind
estructible due to their sheer numbers, their internal circuitry was not immune to attack. Microwave energy, of a frequency that matched the Hunter’s and Infector’s internal circuits, would result in a build–up of heat energy within the devices that fried their innards and rendered them useless. Likewise, the use of Devlamine as a draw to the machines, due to their inherent programming designed to use Devlamine as a means of gaining control of human beings, meant that they could be corralled and then annihilated by firepower en masse, a tactic deployed effectively on Chiron IV.

  The Marines slowed noticeably as they approached the doors. Bra’hiv, like his men, had seen what the unstoppable waves of machines could do to any biological species, rushing over them like glistening black oil and tearing them apart in a fearsome frenzy of countless thousands of razor sharp metallic teeth and claws.

  General Bra’hiv moved to the doors’ security panel and entered a code. The Marines raised their rifles, the plasma magazines humming into life as they aimed at the doors, two of them hefting plasma–powered flamethrowers into position. Satisfied, Bra’hiv hit the access command button and then leaped back as a hiss of escaping air billowed out in a cloud of vapour into the corridor and the blast doors rumbled open.

  The Marines tensed up, then the vapour cleared and revealed an empty corridor descending into the bowels of the ship.

  ‘Kordaz, you’re up! The rest of you, advance by sections,’ Bra’hiv ordered. ‘Stay sharp!’

  The gigantic Veng’en turned to the Marine closest to him, and with features pinched with reluctance the Marine activated a swipe–card and passed it over Kordaz’s manacles. They clicked open and hung in the zero–gravity as Kordaz quietly slipped them off.

  For a moment Bra’hiv wondered whether the Veng’en would attempt to run or perhaps plunge into the Marines in a murderous frenzy. But instead, Kordaz turned and strode into the chilly interior of the passage.

  ‘Follow me.’