Lisa’s face swam in his mind’s eye. He hated how he’d blamed her when she’d turned so cold and hateful. That was before he understood that she’d been replaced by her twin from the Progenitor universe.
He’d been so angry back then, at everyone. Now, he was just angry at himself. For failing to realize that the real Lisa would never act the way her double had.
And he was angry over Iris. Because he’d let her go.
He wanted to love Iris. To be with her. But he couldn’t stop the ghost of Lisa from haunting his thoughts. He couldn’t leave behind her memory.
He didn’t realize he’d gotten lost in thought until the Winger cleared his throat.
“Sorry.”
For several seconds, the cook said nothing. Then he tapped his beak. “You know what this means?” He was pointing at the discoloration. Jake was sure he’d seen it before, but he couldn’t say where. The Winger continued: “When I was stationed on another ship, the Rothington, my brother was watching my family. I loved my brother, and he swore to me that he’d keep my family safe. But he was running with a bad crowd. I didn’t know. How could I have known?” The Winger shook his head, like he was asking himself a question he couldn’t answer. “One day, he got into an argument with two of his…associates. They were at the house, and you might say the argument became heated. In the gunfire that followed, my son was killed. My brother was killed. And my wife, she—” He shook his head. “She couldn’t forgive my brother, or me. But most of all, she couldn’t live without our son. So she killed herself.”
A long silence followed. Jake could hear the rattling of a ventilation shaft somewhere. Suddenly his own problems seemed far away, and small.
At least Lisa was still alive. Iris, too. Whatever he’d lost, it was nothing compared to what this Winger had gone through.
The cook nodded. “So believe me, son, when I say that wanting to be alone with your thoughts is something I fully understand.” He stood up. “Sometimes, though, you shouldn’t be alone. Just a tip from an old bird.”
Jake nodded. “Thanks. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
The cook shook his head. “You were right. We’ve all lost someone. But don’t just blame the wars. Sometimes, life simply isn’t fair. Sometimes you just lose someone, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.” The cook stepped back, his features less soft than when he’d first sat down.
Jake found the hardness refreshing. “Are you sure you don’t have any of that pie left? It was damn good.”
The cook laughed again, this time with genuine mirth. “You know, it’s just possible that there might be a piece or two left, if you want to sit with an old Winger and eat it.”
It had been a long time since Jake had wanted to eat with anyone. “I think I’d like that very much.”
Just then, his radio squawked. The voice of Major Peter Gamble boomed. “Ready teams, assemble on Deck 18. Priority one!”
Jake leaped to his feet, practically flipping the table over.
The cook didn’t hesitate. “Go.”
Jake wanted to say more, but all he could manage was a nod. He turned and sprinted out of the mess hall as fast as his prosthetic legs would take him.
Chapter 16
MIMAS Mech staging area
Secondary hangar, UHC Relentless
Jake arrived in the hangar to find his mech waiting for him. The hatch had popped out to lower to the deck behind it, forming a ramp. Jake climbed aboard as he slipped a sedative into his mouth. In seconds, he was descending into the lucid-induced mech dream, the sound of the closing hatch dim and distant.
The chatter from the suit’s com came to life.
“What the hell are those things?” a marine shouted. Gunfire roared in the background.
Another voice replied, accompanied by the staccato bark of more automatic gunfire. “We’ve got breaches on levels 12 and 14.”
“Fire teams, get those mechs positioned!”
Jake jumped in. “Where do you need me?”
“Hit the airlocks on 18,” barked Gamble. “I’ve already directed the rest of your team there.”
Jake turned his mech, the hulking machine’s legs pumping fiercely, crashing against the reinforced deck of the secondary landing bay as he ran for the airlocks Gamble had indicated. Ahead, he could see another member of Oneiri Team already going through. He recognized the gold trim on the mech even before the name popped up on his HUD.
“Maura, I’m right behind you.”
“About time.”
“Thanks for finally joining us,” said another voice. Jake looked at the HUD and saw the green dots that indicated other members of the team, already outside Relentless and standing on her hull. Tucker was leading two other mechs as they pushed toward a group of objects clustered near a battery of point defense turrets.
“What the hell are those things?” Jake asked as he ran.
Tucker let out a terse laugh. “Those are the things that’ll be inside the ship soon if we don’t clear them out. Light them up!”
Maura and Jake emerged from the airlock, which was specially designed for mech egress. He pushed through momentary disorientation as his mind reoriented the horizon to make sense of standing sideways on Relentless’ hull. He side-stepped the base of a huge railgun assembly. Off to his right, another gun exploded with energy, flinging its kinetic payload into space.
Something exploded just above the hull, and Jake realized now that more of the things were raining down on the ship. The railguns were firing as fast as they could, but they couldn’t get all of them.
Another railgun shot rumbled the hull beneath him. Then something crashed down next to his mech, and he staggered away, using shoulder-mounted thrusters to keep himself from bouncing off the hull and into space.
Jake heard Tucker shout something about the enemies he was fighting, but there was no time to make sense of it. Whatever had just smashed into the hull next to him was already burrowing down, using a hardened carapace shaped like a giant cone ending in a serrated hook. It ripped and tore its way through the ship’s armor plating with the strange appendage. The thing seemed to instinctively find the seams, and in the second it took Jake to react, it dug down almost a third of a meter.
He shifted the fingers on his right hand, retracting them to reveal the autocannon built into his wrist. He fired.
The alien morphed instantly. The digging stopped, but it seemed like the hard outer shell was now giving way to a bizarre creature underneath. The thing had large scythe-like claws and a gaping maw filled with razor-sharp fangs.
It looked like something from one of Darwin’s nightmares.
The alien danced around his fire and then leaped at Jake’s mech, swinging both claws. It was almost as big as the mech, and Jake spun fast, kicking sideways with one of his thrusters while swinging his left arm to smash the creature across the head as it swept past.
It barely seemed to notice.
“We’ve got twelve of these things up here!” Tucker shouted. “We aren’t going to stop them all.”
“Watch out for the goop they spit!” Maura yelled.
For Jake, the warning came just in time. The creature’s throat opened down the middle, revealing more wicked fangs. The thing belched something like a piece of bone covered in green-blue liquid. Jake dodged sideways, glancing back in time to see it vaporize a chunk of hull plating.
“Hit ’em with pulse cannon fire to the head! We’ve killed two that way. Body damage doesn’t seem to slow them.”
The creature belched another blast of acidic juice. Jake took that as his opening to jump forward, ducking under the projectile to crash into the beast. But he didn’t go low enough. Some of the juice splattered his shoulder, and his suit instantly flashed red with damage reports.
He led with his foot, catching the creature with a kick just as it was rearing back for another acid spit. It jerked backward, but managed to grab Jake’s foot, spinning him around as he hopped on one leg, struggli
ng to retain his balance.
The thing’s teeth ripped through the mech’s leg. Jake managed to wrench the limb free, staggering back as critical damage readings lit up his HUD once more.
The creature was stronger than anything he’d dealt with before. It seemed obvious now, but hitting these things from a distance was going to be key. Once they got close enough for hand-to-hand combat, their acid and teeth made them too deadly.
He spun, throwing both hands back and engaging the thruster on his free leg. The full weight of the mech collided with the alien’s chest. It recoiled, but not before Jake shoved his autocannon into the alien’s gaping maw, which had lost several teeth when Jake had jerked his foot free.
He fired, sending a burst of plasma slugs down the alien’s throat. The head deformed for a second, then the back of it sagged, ripping open to shower bone fragments and acidic liquid onto the Relentless’ hull.
With that, the creature went limp, falling backward into its own acid bath.
Jake gave the thing another kick for good measure, then looked down to see several of the teeth still lodged in his mech’s leg. That made him wince. Mech repair wasn’t cheap, and if he damaged a MIMAS badly enough to warrant a replacement from one of the supply ships, he was sure to catch hell.
He turned to see Maura booting another alien. It already looked dead, but she split the rest of the body open with a final blow. Its corrosive guts splattered the hull.
She looked up as Jake approached, and together they ran for Tucker’s position.
As they crested a portion of the hull with a large exposed dish, they passed several other alien corpses strewn across the deck. Jake also saw at least one mech down, one of its legs severed clean off. Another was nursing a badly damaged arm. Neither looked completely out of the fight, so that was something.
“Status?” Jake shouted, though he felt pretty sure he could see that for himself. There were several places where the hull had been ripped wide open—wide enough for one of those monstrosities to pass through.
“Some of them got in,” Tucker said. “Maybe five or six.”
Shit. A half-dozen of those things loose inside the Relentless could do serious damage.
Jake opened the all-hands channel. “Major Gamble, you need to mobilize the marine battalion to the forward decks on the lower command module. You’re about to have some nasty company.”
Chapter 17
Combat Information Center
UHC Relentless
Husher watched as the aliens continued to swarm around his air group. “Are our fighters taking any damage out there?”
“We didn’t think so at first,” Winterton said, his voice softer than usual. “But now Tango and Whiskey squadrons are both reporting systems shutting down on their fighters.”
Shota looked like he was trying to stare a hole through the sensor operator’s head. “How is that possible? Those things just blew right past them.”
“Not sure. I’m working under the theory that something they did has a delayed effect. Pilots are reporting electrical systems failing.”
“It’s that damn acid,” Callum snapped as soon as Husher punched up his com. “We think they must have splashed us as they went by. It didn't even register in the moment, but now it seems to be eating through our hulls. So far, two of my pilots have had to eject. Another one didn’t realize what was happening until the damn stuff ate him alive.”
Callum reported that so matter-of-factly that Husher thought he’d heard him wrong. “It ate him alive?”
“Yes, sir. Came in through the back of his cabin and melted through his helmet, right into his brain and spinal cord. He was dead before he knew the acid was there. I’m telling all my pilots to bug out. Anyone that got splashed is going to need a pickup soon—that includes me. Sorry, Captain. They went right through us.”
Husher could hear the bitterness in Callum’s voice. “Not your fault. We sent you out there with zero intel. There was no way you could have known what to expect.”
Shota was waving at him. “Stand by, Major.” Husher looked at his XO. “What is it?”
“There’s no reason to send out another wing at this point. They’re just going to have the same problem.”
“Agreed. What we need now is intel.” Husher stabbed his com again. “All destroyer groups, stand down fighter operations. We’re going with ship-to-ship missiles for now.” He closed the channel without waiting for acknowledgment from the other captains. He had the tactical authority here, particularly since the Providence was behind him and not directly in contact with the destroyer line.
“We need to answer that alien cloud with an overwhelming response,” Husher said. “Fire a proportional spread across its breadth and initiate evasive maneuvers.”
“Aye, sir,” Tremaine said, and so did Lieutenant Samuel Moens, the primary Helm officer.
“Full spread,” Husher continued. “Tactical mix of Hydras and Gorgons.”
Shota nodded. “If the Hydra smart bomb segments don’t get the alien fliers, then the stealth missiles should.”
“That’s the idea.” Husher silently cursed Iver for pushing them into this. He wouldn’t say that out loud—to question the admiral’s orders would only sow discord. But he hated them just the same.
“Callum, keep your stick jockeys clear, if possible. I don’t want you within the explosion radius of any alien that’s hit.” There was a pregnant pause. “Callum?”
“Understood,” came the strained reply. “But I’m already in my ejection pod, sir. We’re powering away, though these things aren’t made for much maneuverability.”
“They might not be clear,” Shota warned.
Husher looked up at the board. The cloud of aliens was nearly on top of the destroyers now. The Relentless had been the last to join the formation, but her forward position made her the most exposed. “We’re going to have to risk it if we want to have a chance of stopping those things.”
Shota returned his gaze with hard eyes. “Agreed.”
Husher frowned. “This isn’t a simulation. You’re my XO. When you believe there’s a correct course of action, don’t try to tell me what you think I want to hear. You’re to tell me what you actually think, immediately. Clear?”
Shota seemed surprised, maybe thinking a life-or-death scenario in another universe wasn’t the time for a scolding. But to his credit, he nodded. “Understood, sir.”
Husher turned to Winterton. “Stand by for rescue operations as soon as that barrage is over.”
“Aye, sir.” Winterton’s fingers danced over his console. “Barrage impact in five…four…three…two…one.”
On screen, a series of explosions blossomed, but there weren’t nearly as many as Husher was expecting. “Were there fewer targets than we thought?”
“I don’t think so,” Winterton said, poring over his display. “Most of them disappeared, and—”
Shota pointed at the main tactical display. “There they are.”
Husher grimaced. They’d hit a few of the aliens, it seemed, but most of the targets had disappeared the moment before the missiles reached them, reappearing beyond them, just as they had with the fighters.
“It’s like they’re defying the laws of physics,” Shota said. “What they’re doing shouldn’t be possible.”
Husher tilted his head sideways. “Not in our universe, anyway.” He left the statement hanging there. None of them knew what rules applied in this dimension.
His XO clenched and unclenched his fists. “So, not only are we fighting an enemy with capabilities we don’t understand, but we’re doing it in a universe with laws we don’t know.”
“Sir.” Long had turned from the Coms console to look at him. “Strongbow and Idaho report they’re deploying fighter wings to join the fight.”
A secondary string of explosions lit up the viewscreen. “What was that?” Husher asked.
Winterton squinted at his console. “Rebound impacts. The aliens’ erratic movements tricked t
he missiles’ onboard AIs, but I don’t think they realized just how much fuel our missiles have on board. Several of them have come back around and surprised them.”
Husher glanced at Shota, a slight grin sprouting. “So two can play the unexpected capabilities game.”
“So they can. Sir, it looks like the alien fliers might be vulnerable to attack from behind. They weren’t so good at dodging, that time. Maybe something about their propulsion doesn’t let them evade attacks coming at their rear nearly as well.”
“And yet, we still don't understand their propulsion. For every answer we get, two questions crop up.”
“This was supposed to be a recon mission,” Shota said quietly.
The implication was clear, and this time Husher didn’t correct him. He’d already stood up enough for the admiral. The simple fact was, they should never have engaged the aliens here, on their terms.
Luckily, the enemy’s numbers had been significantly reduced. Those that were left appeared to be peeling off their attack run. With fighters from the other destroyers joining the battle, it was likely a mop-up operation at this point.
“We were lucky,” Husher said.
“Sir,” Winterton said. “You’d better take a look at this.” The sensor operator flicked his wrist, throwing another perspective on the viewscreen. This one was farther out, beyond the Relentless’ current field of view—a readout at the bottom told Husher it was from one of the fighters’ escape pods, which was currently floating near where they’d first spotted the giant ship.
“Is that the original ship?” Shota asked, standing and walking closer to the viewscreen.
Winterton nodded. “Yes, it looks like it’s shedding more fliers.”
Husher watched as the ship peeled itself like an onion, releasing another layer of ships. “Based on what we’re seeing, can we extrapolate how many ships that thing is capable of deploying?”
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