Don Kielter’s eyes sparkled and he put his hand on Nariko’s shoulder.
“Best purchase I ever made,” he bragged to those around him, who nodded in agreement. “Worth every kroner.” Nariko slapped his hand off of her shoulder in disgust. Don Kielter gave orders to the runners and they dashed out. The other ships would be informed of the plan by light-gun.
Hanging cleanly over the brown, burnt surface of Jordanus, the dark towers of the traitor ships twinkled against the black backdrop of stars. Great pillars of metal and lights hundreds of feet high, adorned with great runes, announcing their dedication to the gods of the ether.
The first volley from the Vulture smashed into the prow of the Huntsman, the shells tearing through layers of armor and hull before exploding and bending out the prow of the ship as if it were being inflated from within, then imploding in on itself, crushing down like an aluminum can. The Huntsman began listing weakly as its crew feebly tried to regain control and seal bulkheads.
The opening volley from the Brannigan burst high in the atmosphere, sending down thousands of streaking firebombs onto the industrial areas below. These rusty acid-burned structures, filled with millions upon millions of half-sentient man-beasts, caught fire and burned white hot filling the skies with a broil of fume.
The second volley from the Vulture struck out against the Scourge, the shells exploding before they reached the surface of the ship, striking against the invisible surface of its ancient force barriers. It was a testament to their skill that the crew of the Scourge had managed to bring up their defenses so quickly.
The second volley from the Brannigan rained down upon the massive mine-works of the northern mountains, where the majority of the raw materials used in the factories were harvested. Already, horrible casualties were being inflicted on the troops on the ground, as they hastily tried to man their anti-aircraft guns and prime their fighter craft, only to be doused with burning liquid as they ran out in the open.
The Scourge let out a mighty roar and its gravity-driver propelled a massive shell out of the prow of the vessel, ten times larger than the ordinance used by the Carrion. The shell struck the void barrier of the Vulture and shattered it, barely slowing down the titanic shell, before it tore into the flank of the vessel. The detonation of the shell broke the backbone of the Vulture, tearing it in two and sending the two halves careening through space, spilling out a stream of atmosphere, equipment and bodies.
The captain of the Brannigan did not attempt to make a third volley. Instead, the Brannigan came about and made for the edge of the system.
The enemy ships gave chase, enraged and enlivened by the thrill of the hunt. Even the damaged Huntsman took pursuit, which was astonishing considering the amount of damage the ship had sustained.
For twenty agonizingly long minutes the traitor ships chased the Brannigan, which managed to stay just outside the range of their longest weapons. Their fighters could catch it, however, and the Brannigan was in a struggle for its life as its own fighters were quickly overwhelmed and the small craft swarmed and strafed the Brannigan like stinging insects as it tried to escape.
The panic on the surface of Jordanus was palpable, even from space. Their force barriers were lowered again and thousands of fire-fighting craft and ground crewmen were engaged in a wicked battle, trying to put out the thousands of fires that threatened to spread and grow into a single unstoppable fire that could consume the whole of their industrial areas.
Their panic turned to outright terror as nine Carrion vessels suddenly appeared on their sensors and opened fire. The Carrion first targeted the power grids of the industrial areas, ensuring that the barriers there would never be raised again. Great pillars of dust and fire rose up along the large industrial sites that covered the planet, and the radio channels were filled with the screams of terrified soldiers and dying beasts.
Defense cannons returned fire against the Carrion ships, but under the pressure of the blazing infernos that surrounded them, and without any protection, they did little more than give away their positions to the Carrion ships, which silenced them with a second volley.
The ground shook and the earth cracked underneath the strain of the shelling as the Carrion ships launched volley after volley into the industrial cities. The ammunition stockpiles ignited, sending white-hot pillars of ash and smoke thousands of meters into the air, doing far more damage than the Carrion ordinance ever could. The pillars reached the upper atmosphere, where the heavier particles began to rain down again taking on a mushroom shape. The chemical agents in the explosives poisoned the atmosphere, choking the life out of the very creatures that had created them as their dwindling numbers hid and cowered among the rubble of their burning cities. Billions died in less than five minutes.
The Archfiend’s ships following the Brannigan realized their folly too late and gave up their pursuit to return to Jordanus. Only the Huntsman continued after the Brannigan, its crew probably too overcome with bloodlust to turn aside.
In the command room of the Scavenger, the men were becoming tense and furtive. The Carrion knew how to fight, but they were not soldiers. They fought for no cause except profit. Already things had not gone as plan and the loss of the Vulture made them all too aware of the dangers of a straight-up fight. Several of them men were looking to Don Kielter, expecting the order to withdraw to come soon.
The sensor station came alive with activity as a trio of ether pings was detected at the edge of the system.
“Three enemy vessels directly in the path of the Brannigan. A heavy cruiser and two destroyers,” a man called out.
“It is a bad omen,” a short acne-covered man commented fearfully.
“Time to leave. Order the fleet to break bombardment and move at best speed,” Don Kielter ordered gruffly, “Helm, give us a course directly away from those blasted ships.”
The helmsman entered the commands into the logic engine and gave it a swift kick for good measure as it calculated the best trajectory and brought the ship about.
Nariko watched apprehensively on the monitors. At the edge of the system, the Brannigan was trapped. Fighters had managed to disable its main drive and it spun weakly as boarding parties from four enemy ships were teleported onboard, slaughtering and enslaving its crew. For a brief moment she allowed herself to imagine the fate of the Carrion.
“Another four enemy vessels have dropped into realspace, directly in our pathway,” the auger-man reported coldly.
“We are being hunted,” a tall dark-skinned man commented fearfully.
Another course was calculated turning the fleet to its left, burning away from both groups of pursuing ships and out of the system.
“Something is not right, here,” Don Kielter said as he analyzed the holo-map. “They have too many ships ready to arrive in system.”
“Perhaps they found a way to detect our ether slip. Something that we don’t know about, yet,” Nariko conjectured.
“They could have guessed we’d come here next and set a trap,” a hairy guard speculated.
“There are at least a dozen targets we could have hit next. How could the Archfiend have correctly guessed where we’d strike?” Nariko scoffed.
Suddenly the main viewer flashed white with energy, causing those on the command deck to raise up their hands and arms to protect their eyes. When the light subsided there were a full group of six traitor ships, which had come out of the ether right on top of them, so close that they were visible through the viewports.
“Witchcraft,” the men in the room remarked.
The Scavenger rocked and shook violently as the first volley smashed into its barriers. The ship’s structure groaned and squealed from the impact. Nariko lost her footing and was thrown down into the cable pit hub for the holo-map.
Don Kielter landed flatly with a squelch on top of a pile of trash. His fall cushioned by his own slovenliness.
“Comm, order an immediate slip. Helm, activate the ether drive NOW!” He shouted.
/> Dozens of voices spoke over one another; it took a moment for the ship’s Preot to be heard over them. “We are not far enough away from the planet’s gravity. It is too dangerous. We will injure the spirits in the ether drive,” Kathlair warned.
“Do it or I’ll have your head on a pike,” the Don threatened as another volley impacted with the barrier, shattering it and leaving the ship vulnerable.
The helm officer reluctantly obeyed and the ship lurched forward, the stars and ships in front of them stretching for an instant before returning to their original shape. The lights inside the command deck flickered and vibrations in the bulkhead indicated internal explosions.
The communications officers screamed out over one another, making their messages nearly incomprehensible. Only two of the Carrion ships had successfully slipped. All of the others had experienced massive ether drive failures.
“Fusho,” Nariko swore as she pulled herself out of the cable pit, “When a priest tells you that it’s too dangerous, that means it’s too dangerous.”
“Kathlair told me that it was too dangerous when you suggested your plan, slave-girl,” Don Kielter argued as he pulled himself back into his chair.
“He said it was sacrilegious, not that it was too dangerous. Those are completely different things,” Nariko screamed back, losing control of her temper.
“My apologies, Miss Neareko,” he shot back.
“My name is pronounced Nah-ree-koh, you worthless aho.”
Don Kielter ignored her and gave new orders to the helm. The Carrion and Archfiend’s formations passed through each other, letting loose volleys of destructive power as they passed so close that it was impossible for the gunnery crews to miss their mark. Crewmen pressed up against portholes, shouting curses and making obscene gestures at their enemies. Weapons fire cut deep into the hull of the Scavenger, spilling out clouds of shrapnel and bodies.
The Carrion ship Buitre took a direct hit to its command deck, causing the ship to turn uncontrolled as the maneuvering engines on the port side fired fully. The ship crashed cruelly into the side of an enemy ship and the two merged. Forced on by their massive inertia, the hulls of the ships slowly and inexorably pierced into one another.
The core of one ship detonated, although by that time the wreckage of the two ships was so intermingled that it was impossible to tell whose drive it was. The explosion ripped the two ships apart, superheated debris driven out along the leading edge of an ever-increasing sphere of fire that consumed two more ships nearby. Huge fragments, the size of buildings, collided with other ships tearing free entire sections into space. When the fireball subsided a horrible black sore remained, visible even against the black void of space.
Nariko watched through a porthole as a stream of spectral entities spilled out of the wound in realspace, their squeals of delight carrying across even the vacuum of space. They swarmed around a ship that found itself far too close to the tear and began tugging and tearing at its structure, countless creatures pulling off armor plates and pieces of bulkhead, which twisted and discolored at their touch. Within moments, the ship was cannibalized, its discolored and writhing components flying out in all directions, the souls of the crew wickedly consumed by the thirsting demons.
Nariko stumbled backwards as the shockwave of ethereal energy passed through the Scavenger. She fell to the floor screaming, gripping the unbearable burning pain coming from her collarbone. She felt the darkness inside her twist and stir, hungrily lapping up the raw psychic passing invisibly through the room. She felt it growing stronger from the nourishment and then began a sensation she had never experienced before and it filled her with absolute terror. The darkness was waking up.
The tear in space closed in on itself. The specters and demons roared with rage as they slowly vanished, unable to sustain their presence in the material plane.
The three remaining Carrion vessels limped away as best they could, traitor ships converging on them from seemingly all directions. Men abandoned their posts, trampling over each other as they crammed into escape pods. The traitor ships fired gleefully at the streaking escape pods, almost obsessive in their efforts to destroy them.
Inside the Scavenger, the bridge bowed and buckled from underneath sending men and equipment flying in all directions.
“We’ve lost two of our sublight engines,” Kathlair reported through the comm-system, “We cannot outrun them.”
“Frakin’ wire-dragger,” Don Kielter cursed. “We don’t need to outrun them; we only need to outrun the other Carrion ships. Helm, bring us out in front of the Geller. Put it between us and the traitors.” The helmsman looked at the Don questioningly.
“Don’t worry; the Geller is Davones’ ship. We never liked him much, anyway.”
As she lay there in pain, Nariko’s vision shifted on its own into the gamma spectrum. All around them she could clearly see the diviner beams touching the surfaces of the command deck, marking out their dimensions and then converging on a single point in the center of the room.
Nariko tried to stand up, but her body resisted. The darkness inside of her stretched and the world seemed to spin around her.
“Incoming boarding party!” she shouted out as best she could to the remaining Carrion guards.
The air became greasy and there was a sharp pinging noise that rose in amplitude, until it moved beyond the range of human hearing. A bright blast of energy tore apart the fabric of space-time on dozens of different places all over the ship and when the light subsided on the command deck four traitors stood, towering over everyone in their jet-black suits of boarding armor.
Without waiting for battle cries or challenges, the four traitors began spraying the command deck with death and destruction. Panels and machinery were torn off the walls, their components and fluids spraying into the air and splattering onto the floor. Men were thrown around like rag dolls, their rifles pattering off the thick exoskeletons like drops of rain as the traitors cackled their blasphemous hymns above the sounds of death that surrounded them.
Get up.
A stray shot tore through a desk and clipped Nariko in the thigh. She suppressed a yelp and struggled against her rebellious body, arms shaking as she used the rush of the pain to force herself to sit up. Her black blood congealed over the wound, sealing it shut.
Get up!
Men screamed and gurgled as the traitors gutted them remorselessly, cackling and cursing through their loudspeakers. The bloody remains of a guard landed alongside Nariko, his eyes frozen in an expression of terror. With heavy pneumatic footsteps one of the traitors began walking toward her where she sat behind a desk, searching for new prey.
Get up!
Nariko ground her teeth in anger and felt something snap. The darkness retreated and her body moved again. She touched the activation rune on her katana and it burst to life. Black fire and electrical discharge played and slithered along its sleek silvery surface, the air hissing from the contact. Nariko threw a tattered chair up into the air at the traitor approaching her. The man swatted it out of the air with the barrel of his rifle, only to realize that the chair had blocked his view of her as she charged him. Nariko struck downward with her sword, the ancient energies cleaving effortlessly through armor and flesh from shoulder to hip. With electrical sparks and a fountain of blood, the armored torso slid off and fell down onto the deck.
His companion turned and fired his heavy rifle at her, but Nariko had already sprung toward him inside the arc of his weapon. Focusing all her hate and rage she slashed up, cutting the gun in half, accidentally detonating the round that was still in the barrel. The rifle came apart in the traitor’s hands in a mist of red-hot shards.
Through the mist came a massive armored fist aimed at Nariko’s head, which came off neatly at the elbow when Nariko countered. Shifting her weight back, she sliced down in an elegant curve cutting cleanly through both of his armored legs just above the knee. The massive body of the traitor came crashing down crushing the ruined bulkhead floo
r as it landed, arm and stump flailing as he attempted to regain his balance.
His comrades turned and fired a stream of self-propelled ammunition at Nariko, who ducked down just before the lead shots cut through the air where her body had been, annihilating the bulkhead wall behind her. Nariko crouched down behind the armored body of the legless traitor as he attempted to right himself and stuck her pistol out underneath his armpit. Blue bolts of energy slapped onto the surface of their boarding armor, the artificial musculature twitching and flexing erratically.
Adjusting their aim as best they could through the scrambled vision of their helmets, the traitors fired in the direction of the attack hitting their legless companion. Round after round of self-propelled micro-grenades buried themselves deeply into his suit, tearing away chunk after chunk, until the rounds finally broke through and killed the screaming man inside with a gooey explosion of flesh.
Nariko tapped the controls on her pistol and a delicate gold filament extended out of the stock and inserted itself into her wrist. After a brief moment of pain, the link with her nervous system was established and her vision was overlaid as she looked out through the cameras mounted in the tips of her bullets. From her crouched position, she fired her final three smart bullets straight up into the air.
They arced in midflight with a life of their own toward the nearest traitor. The first bullet curved around the room, burying itself into the back of his knee joint and locking it solid, the second dove down, severing the cabling to the suits power pack, while the third slammed in from above, piercing the vulnerable neck joint and wounding the man inside.
Heart of a Traitor Page 10