Armageddon's Pall: Spiral War Book 4

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Armageddon's Pall: Spiral War Book 4 Page 39

by S. F. Edwards


  “Report!” Blazer ordered, his voice groggy.

  That Matt replied annoyed Zithe at first, but he was the expert on navigation and hyperspace physics. “We have a significant decrease in size of the local jump point. The only time I’ve ever seen anything like this before is after the Planet Slicer had passed through one.”

  Blazer remained silent for a moment, possibly doing his own analysis, or conferring with others on a private link. “I concur with the analysis. All units…”

  “Messiah!” Bichard shrieked over the open link in his hum click voice. His MeG-CE had finished its boot cycle and it clutched at the air above its head as it mimicked his attempts to grab his antennae. “I have picked up an open radio frequency transmission on a known Gorvian frequency, high

  -powered,” he explained, voice pained.

  That didn’t make any sense to Zithe, a signal over radio and on an open channel, unless… “They want us to see death coming!”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Major Loshe said. “There’s no way we can decelerate in time to avoid entering the jump point. Are your people trained for hyperspace intrusion jumps?”

  Zithe could hear the reluctance in Blazer’s voice, but he had to admit that it was only because he felt the same. “We’ve simulated it before. But yes. I don’t think any squad can be called experienced at hyperspace jumps. We were intending to use the hyperspace jump packs for emergency escape, not insertion.”

  “We don’t have much choice,” the major replied. “All units. Arm up and prepare for hyperspace intrusion jump.”

  Zithe unlocked his MeG-CE from the hull panel docking point. The original plan was for them to either crash the Mercy into the Planet Slicer. Barring that they were to ride the shattered sheets of hull onto the Planet Slicer, just like their original insertion. Rudjick had even simulated surfing his panel into the gravity field.

  Zithe snatched his oversized plaser rifle from the back of his suit. The rest of the squad began to undock, taking positions around the larger breach panels. He didn’t like this at all. The plan had been risky enough. To now have to jump across to the giant ship in hyperspace with only an experimental single-use hyperspace shield for protection raised his hackles. His mouth began to water with primal fear so strong that he threatened to wolf out. He forced a silver tooth injection to be safe.

  Blazer ordered as the last of the Blade Force took up positions around the explosive bolt-secured panel.

  the captain replied and the computer counted down. At zero, a silent thud reverberated through the hull as four sections blasted free. The little air that remained within the ship kicked the panels away, revealing space and the jump point beyond.

  Zithe resisted the urge to wipe at the sweat he felt on his brow. Instead, he took a knee beside the opening in preparation for his jump. As he waited he felt a tug on his suit. Looking around, he saw nothing before he recognized the feeling, gravity. They’d come close enough to the jump point for the Planet Slicer’s gravity to grab hold and pull them in even faster.

  The Mercy breached the jump point at a near suicidal angle. The darkness of normal space disappeared into the psychedelic nightmare of hyperspace before the Mercy flipped about to reveal the Planet Slicer. Holes appeared in the hull around the ship as the Planet Slicer fired upon them. No hyperspace shield would be able to stop the high-powered laser blasts. Plasma bolts didn’t survive long in hyperspace, but the high-powered lasers that excited the plasma crossed the distance unmolested. Cargo crates around the ship, filled with decoy parts and biological matter, exploded, pelting them all with debris.

  “All units. Jump, NOW!”

  The Blade Force jumped as one, firing their suit jets and activating their hyperspace shields as they rocketed towards the Planet Slicer. Debris slammed into Zithe spinning him about. He stabilized the spin and looked back at the Mercy. The hyperspace shields collapsed and the ship’s structure gave out under the flow of hyperspace ether. The ship rocked about as huge sections of the hull disappeared, exposing the power core. A series of laser beams converged upon it.

  Zithe looked for the small escape module near the bridge. Whether it could survive in hyperspace he had no idea. It would prove the captain and their crew chief’s only escape. The pair had chosen to crew the remnant of the ship that had been their home the whole of their lives. He never saw it. The two Shinekians were both at the end of their short lives and it was common knowledge that the chief had never wanted to leave the frigate. Zithe said a silent prayer for them, closing his eyes. He reopened to witness the final death blows.

  It was a sight that would haunt Zithe for the rest of his life. Combat in hyperspace was a true rarity. The few recorded instances tended to end in disaster for both sides. Little was known about the exact nature of hyperspace except that it was a higher-dimensional universe. Mass was proven to exist in that universe, the invisible ether eating unprotected normal space matter breaching any jump point. Though invisible to normal space sensors, larger objects cast visible mass shadows that could destroy a ship. Zithe was no physicist, couldn’t guess at what caused the sight before him. The sensor data he recorded would be sure to astound and confound scientists for decades to come.

  Whether it was a normal phenomenon or one created by the combination of gravity, radiation, concussion, and other unknown forces acting in that volume of space Zithe couldn’t say. The power core exploded, the Mercy’s last gasp, and the very fabric of hyperspace itself buckled and tore. A shockwave, the likes of which he’d never seen, burst out of the tear. Gravitational lensing revealed the hyperspace ether undulating as it raced outwards from the explosion and seeming back in from every direction at once.

  Zithe instinctively shielded his eyes against the brilliant flash as an otherworldly light shone through. The shockwave caught them all, launching the teams towards the Planet Slicer before the tear collapsed back into oblivion. Dazed by the impact, Zithe kept his sensors trained on the closing anomaly; his vision blurred. Whether the lights he saw emerging from it were figments of his imagination, acceleration blindness, or something else, he might never know.

  Bridge, Planet Slicer, Hyperspace

  Triumphant roars erupted throughout the ship and upon the bridge, their cheers by far the greatest. Gondral’s ears rung with the noise. Even fae cried out in triumph as the Mercy exploded. The elation of the moment melted away an instant later as every eye watching the destruction became gripped by terror of the sight that followed.

  Even Gondral felt, for the first time fae could remember, the cold grip of fear grab hold upon seeing the rent in hyperspace. Study of their creator's works had only ever mentioned the universe beyond hyperspace once. That report had spoken of nothing but death, madness, and a level of all-consuming darkness that no being should ever even attempt to visit. All experiments with that universe had been disastrous. Gondral stared into that bright, glimmering rip, feeling fas sanity beginning to slip free. The ever-growing nub of fas replacement brain tail quivered and ached, appearing to try and rip free to escape the sight.

  “Incoming shockwave from the anomaly,” the twelve-eyed science officer called out with far too much calm.

  Gondral couldn’t tear fas eyes away from the anomaly as it pulled at fam. Screams of some alien origin echoed through fas mind. The haunting sound weakened fas joints to collapse back into the throne.

  The Ship Lord wasn’t so entranced, and jumped in front of Gondral to address the crew as the shockwave raced towards them. “All hands! Brace for impact!”

  The shockwave crashed into the Planet Slicer’s shields, buffeting the giant ship with the violence of a naval freighter in a hurricane. The impact threw Gondral from the command chair. The hyperspace shields flickered, winking in and out of function as the hyperspace ether onslaught continued.

  The buffeting subsided and Gondral climbed back to unsteady feet. Emergency lighting was the onl
y thing holding back the stygian darkness. Screens and projectors across the bridge remained dark for a long moment before they returned to life as the crew reset circuit breakers. “Damage report!” Gondral bellowed and looked over to find the Old Mind collapsed against the railing of the command deck.

  The body didn’t move. Even from a distance it was obvious that the brain tails had broken free of their flesh casing. Gondral stepped over to the inert form and took a knee beside it. The brain continued to twitch. Even a cursory examination told Gondral that the Old Mind had little time to live. The skull had caved in to such a degree that it almost bisected the organ.

  The arachnid Gorvian at the engineering station squatted over mor screen, analyzing the display as reports began flowing in. “Reports are still incoming, Lord of All. There is minimal damage across the Planet Slicer. The starboard prow took the brunt of the damage. Half a dozen hyperspace shield emitters that met the front of the shockwave have collapsed. Backups came online but much of sectors CTX-85-88 lost their hull plating to hyperspace ether. There are scattered reports of breaches in adjoining sectors as well. Main power is stable, but several junctions are damaged, expect restoration of power to all sectors within the cycle.”

  Gondral stared at the Old Mind’s new body while taking in the report. Gondral pulled the Old Mind’s head forward and cracked the skull the rest of the way open. The split brain pulsed, but slowed with each passing instant. With closed eyes, as if in reverence, Gondral plucked out the two halves; swallowed them both whole. Fae savored the taste for a moment, allowing it to wash away the last trace of fear. Gondral stood, the Ship Lord looking up, shaking. This was no Consumption, but Gondral eating to control fas emotions. Gondral would normally never allow other Gorvians to witness fas cannibalistic tendencies outside of an actual Consumption.

  Gondral wiped away the last of the blood on fas lips and turned to the crew. “The Mercy, and Vaughnt, had to have died in that attack. Their death took one of the greatest amongst you, the Old Mind,” Gondral said, waving to the body. “I honored fam the best that I could in the time I had. Let us not forget this moment, and destroy the next world in fas honor.” Gondral turned to the Ship Lord. “Contact our fleet and arrange a rendezvous. Inform the Pharad Sworn that we recovered nothing from the Dondick ship. We will however allow them to name the Planet Slicer’s next target. Tell them to make it a highly-populated world.”

  Sector CTX-89, Planet Slicer

  Thanks to his self-healing ability Arion had only had one hangover in his life. Right now, he wished for that instead. His whole body hurt; that alone convinced him that he was still alive. Death wasn’t this painful; he knew. The dark embrace of his shock webbing dug into his chest. He fingered it, crusted shock gel flaking off in sheets. The rest of the command pod remained empty. The impact had been hard enough to activate the whole of the fluid surrounding him. He felt the wounds in his chest begin to heal, so he pushed off the inner wall. His skin stung for a moment. He felt sure that had the others survived, their webbing would have left scars.

  He fumbled around in front of himself in the darkness and found the MeG-CE’s activation controls. He slapped the panel; nothing. He slapped it again; still dead. Feeling around the edge, he located the emergency breaker panel and clicked it open. A red glow from an emergency light cast the interior in a bloody tinge. That’s something at least. Arion reset a dozen breakers, and one by one the MeG-CE’s systems sprang back to life. As he reset the last plunger the light went blue and he closed the tiny hatch.

  He dared not go for an emergency power-up after all that and ran the suit through a full reboot with self-checks. Two minor systems reported faults but he continued the start-up. Shock gel pumped back into the cockpit before the neuro-interface activated and darkness engulfed him again.

  A wave of panic overcame him forcing Arion to run another self-check of his visual sensors. They were at full function, but were presenting nothing but darkness. His skin began to tingle as he checked. The realization that he’d impacted the Planet Slicer face down made him want to slap his own face. He pulled his arms back and pushed his way out of the hull. Light crept back in. He found himself looking through the shattered face of his Gorvian space suit at an imprint of his suit in the outer skin of the Planet Slicer.

  Still dazed, he looked around for the rest of the squadron and the Marines accompanying them on the mission. It was no easy search. Bumps, blisters, depressions, and sensor towers dotted the landscape. Far closer then he would have cared for, he made out vast swathes where the hull plating had disappeared. He stepped closer to that opening. Even from a distance he could see that it extended several levels deep into the ship. No lights shone in the immediate area, power knocked out by the blast that had propelled them here. Nothing remained of the exposed interiors; unshielded matter had simply evaporated. Had anyone’s hyperspace shields failed, they too would have just disappeared.

  He pulled away from the edge. Despite his attempts not to, he looked up at hyperspace’s unrelenting darkness. Billions of concave-looking jump points stared back at him through the inky veil. Through each, the night skies of countless star systems shone. He hated this view. Everything about it felt wrong. He had no regret in not going for his hyperspace navigator’s ring.

  He forced himself to look back towards the surface, but away from the damaged hull. Using a command override, he activated everyone’s locator beacons. Blips lit up on his display, highlighting locations and identities. He marched straight towards the nearest Blade Force beacon, Zithe not quite a kilometra away. He found a small crater, the MeG-CE uncurling itself from the ball Zithe had pulled himself into. Arion offered a hand and Zithe took it.

  “All units, Blade Lead. Status!” Blazer gasped over the link.

  Arion turned towards Blazer’s beacon, pulling Zithe up to him. “Operational and mobile.”

  Zithe flexed and rubbed his chest from beside him. “Dazed but operational. Request switching to micomm link.” The rest of the team and the Explosions checked in over the micomm link. None had come through unscathed.

  Everyone’s MeG-CEs had taken damage. Some of it was minor; sensors and servos not functioning properly anymore. Others would have been declared non-mission effective were it not for the circumstances. Gavit, for instance, had lost half of his head; he found himself working on backup and tertiary visuals. What remained of Rudjick’s MeG-CE was dead. His hyperspace shield blinked out for only an instant, but that had been enough for the ether eat away his unit’s limbs. He required a pickup. Bichard provided one without hesitation. No one griped about the experience or their lost equipment and weapons. Their tones suggested that they were all feeling lucky to be alive.

  Blazer ordered. “Marine Lead, Blade Lead. Do you copy? Over.”

  No response.

  “Marine Lead, Blade Lead. What is your team’s status?”

  Arion exchanged a glance with Zithe.

 

  Blazer’s voice took on an almost pleading tone when he repeated his call for a third time, slipping out of proper communications discipline. “Major Loshe…”

  “Didn’t make it,” a gurgling Torshig voice replied. “This is Marine Five. Assuming command.”

  Marine Five, that’s Sergeant Laxe. A grade-six enlisted, he had an exemplary record, serving under Major Loshe for over five annura. While an invaluable asset to the major, he should have had at least two more officers above him in the unit.

  “Understood Marine Five. Status of Marines…”

  “Marines Two, Three, and Four didn’t make it. We lost two others as well.”

  Arion could guess what had happened. The Monstero Nach units had exited the Mercy first, the Marines on the opposite side of the ship. In addition, the hyperspace shields were cutting-edge experimental units. Even if those hadn’t failed, the likely higher speed of their impacts with the Planet Slicer must have
taken at least one life.

  Arion spotted Blazer in the distance with Trevis, Telsh and several others. Nash had no right arm on his unit anymore; most of that leg lay exposed as well. “Understood Marine Five. Prepare for mission update.” Blazer had the official lead of the mission after Major Loshe, but the marines liked to keep things compartmentalized. They hadn’t briefed the Monstero Nach on every one of their objectives. “We’ll recon as planned and insert the packages the Synthetics provided. We should still have at least five of those.”

  “Four,” Gokhead corrected. “Fealgud’s asset just confirmed that number five’s code was corrupted by the radiation.”

  “Copy four. Marine Five, how many packages do you still have?”

  “Enough.”

  “Copy that,” Blazer replied, his voice betraying clenched teeth. “Explosions Lead. We’re going to need a ride out of here, think you can…”

  “Already be on it,” Trevis replied. “Capture crew. On me.”

  “We also need to figure out where Gondral’s taking this thing,” Blazer said pointing up. The whole sky seemed to pinwheel as the Planet Slicer came out. “Even if Gondral assumes we’re dead, I’m willing to bet that they’re off to remodel a planet someone calls home.”

  “Blade Lead, Marine Five. We are Char Mick on our original orders. Out!”

  “Marine Five, repeat,” Blazer ordered.

  There was no reply.

  “Sergeant, get on the link! Where are you going?” After a further moment of silence Blazer switched back to the untraceable micomm.

  Sector CTY-94

  Blazer all but pleaded to Gokhead as he stepped back up behind him. The last fifty pulses since entering the Planet Slicer had proven a nerve-wracking waiting game. Gokhead had made full use of the advanced micomm he’d had implanted by their Synthetic allies to dive his way through the Gorvian’s computer networks. Despite that, and even with Que-Dee’s assistance, he’d found himself running into dead end after dead end.

 

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