The Hive Invasion- The Complete Trilogy

by Jake Elwood

  She shrugged, eyes still closed. "I just saw a blur, Sir."

  "Could you tell if it was-"

  "Commodore," a voice interrupted. "This is Davis. There's a ship on our starboard side. I think it's trying to dock with Airlock Seven. Sir, it's the Theseus."

  Better than the aliens, Bloch thought. Still, not exactly friendly. "Tomlin. Contact the Theseus. Tell them to use Airlock Six." That would put the rebel ship even with the kitchen. With luck they'd be able to dock without wasting any more air.

  Bloch paused a moment, thinking. What were the names of those sailors in the kitchens? Which ones had sidearms? "Harvard. Kim. Meet me in the kitchen. We're going to greet some guests."

  CHAPTER 24 - HAMMETT

  Hammett stood at the port window on the bridge of the Theseus, staring out through the battered glass at the shambles that remained of the alien settlement. He could make out a distant glint of engines as a last few ships retreated from the asteroid field. Most of the Hive ships had already pulled back to the settlement by the time he came back through the alien Gate. The few who'd remained had trickled away as the Theseus and the Tomahawk approached. Now, the human invaders had the entire asteroid field to themselves.

  The aliens were busy, though he couldn’t make out what they were doing. Ships bustled around the wreckage of the settlement, reminding him of ants in a disturbed anthill. He felt something close to remorse as he looked at all he'd helped to destroy. This had been something glorious. Something grand, something humanity could have learned from.

  Now, it was a shattered ruin.

  We had no choice. We truly didn't. It seems like an incredible opportunity in the abstract, and no doubt future generations will condemn us for squandering all the possibilities that come with First Contact.

  But we had no choice.

  A flare of light caught his eye. It was the reflected shine of an engine somewhere behind him, distorted and blurred by the glass. The Adamant had a runabout, and a team of rescued crew from the Cassandra had gotten it flying. Now the Tomahawk and the runabout were working together, combing through the wrecked ships, looking for survivors.

  It made Hammett's skin crawl. He was waiting for the Hive to turn its attention back to these impudent human trespassers. The alien response was just a matter of time, and when it came, it would be violent. They were only ignoring the humans because the humans appeared to be no immediate threat.

  Soon, the threat would become obvious. And the aliens would react.

  When the next attack came, Hammett wanted both of his remaining ships ready. He longed to order the Tomahawk to join the Theseus in the tense job of watching the enemy. But it was not so easy to order a ship to break off rescue work.

  They'd found pockets of survivors on three different ships so far, including the Manatee. Every rescue seemed to buoy morale, but it filled Hammett with unease. What good did it do to gather rescued crews together in the ships that were about form the front line against the alien counter-attack? Sailors trapped in disabled ships might actually be better off than the people being rescued.

  It was two hours since the Theseus had docked with the Adamant long enough for a difficult meeting with Bloch. Two hours, and the Gate was still being unpacked. Getting at the thing had proved to be a monstrous task. Dozens of crew from the Theseus and Tomahawk were taking part, and incidentally relieving the crowding on both ships. It had taken most of an hour just to force open the supply ship's big cargo doors. After that they'd set to work offloading cargo. He didn't know if they'd reached the massive Gate components yet, never mind starting to assemble it all.

  The plan was to stick the Gate pieces right onto the side of an asteroid. Arriving ships would seem to spring from the rock itself. It would make the Gate impossible to attack from behind.

  Hammett didn't care. He just wanted the whole nerve-wracking process to be over.

  "Admiral? Geibelhaus here."

  Hammett swallowed. It was the moment he'd been dreading and yearning for.

  "The Gate's live, Sir. They powered it up about a minute ago."

  It would take hours for the Gate to connect to its counterpart in the Sol system. Long, terrible hours while he waited for the aliens to notice a massive power surge and react.

  "Thank you, Lieutenant. Get everyone back aboard one ship or the other as fast as you reasonably can."

  "Aye aye, Sir."

  Through the window the alien ships continued to scurry and flit. So far, they weren't reacting.

  So far.

  A metallic clatter, muted by distance and the muffling effect of his helmet, told him the runabout was docking with the Theseus. The Tomahawk would be picking people up directly from the Gate site. Hammett stared out the window and silently fretted, wondering how long it would take to get everyone safely inside a hull.

  'Safely' being a relative term, of course.

  "Admiral."

  He glanced at Sanjari.

  "I've got a new blip on my screen. It came out of nowhere, just this side of the settlement. I think it's smaller ships coming together. They just got big enough for the scanners to detect."

  Hammett nodded, did his best to ignore the lump of ice forming in his stomach, and worked the radio controls on the sleeve of his suit. "Hammett to Tomahawk."

  "Tomahawk. This is Captain Kaur."

  "Captain, we're seeing a large enemy ship close to the settlement."

  "I'll get a telescope on it," she said. "Stand by." It took most of five minutes, but at last she said, "Our best count is between fifteen and twenty ships, with more joining every few minutes."

  "Keep an eye on it," he said. "Keep me advised. And don't let anyone else go outside."

  "Aye aye."

  After that there was nothing to do but wait. The minutes crawled past and he stared into the void, trying hopelessly to pick out the growing alien craft with his naked eyes. If it gets big enough to see at this range, you're a dead man, Richard.

  Slowly an ache in his lower back began to intrude on his consciousness. He blinked and was startled to find that his eyes stung. He shifted, felt stiff muscles protest, and rolled his head from side to side. His neck was painfully tight. How long have I been standing here without moving? He turned around, walked to his chair, and sat down. When he leaned forward his back cracked loudly enough that Eddie twisted around in his chair.

  Okay, this is stupid. Staring out the window didn't help. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, waiting for the hot, gritty sensation on his eyeballs to recede. Only when his mind started to drift did he open his eyes and lift his head. Did I just almost fall asleep? He smothered a yawn and tried to remember how long he'd been on duty. If I'm this exhausted, what shape is the rest of the crew in?

  "Admiral?" It was Kaur over the suit radio.

  "Yes, Captain, go ahead."

  "I'd like to send some people over to the Manatee and try to salvage some food and water. I'll need every scrap I can get if I end up going home the long way."

  He shook his head. Kaur couldn't see it, but it helped clear his mind. "No. We're betting the whole farm on this one. You won't be jumping out of here. You're going home by Gate, or you're dying here today."

  "Aye aye," she said, sounding dispirited.

  She'd planted the thought of food in his mind, though, and it wouldn't leave. His stomach rumbled, and he tried to remember how long it had been since he'd eaten. "Sanjari. Any developments out there?"

  "The big ship still isn't moving," she said. "It just sits there and keeps getting bigger." She gave him a bleak grin. "I wish they'd hurry up."

  "I think we can take rotating breaks," he said. "Who wants to hit the galley first?"

  "The galley's full of crew from the Cassandra," she said. "I'd rather take my break here, where there's a bit of elbow room." She patted her stomach. "I wouldn't mind grabbing something to eat and coming back, though."

  Before he could answer, a metallic clang echoed through the ship.

  "That run
about pilot must be getting tired," she said. There was a note of tension in her voice, though. She had to be thinking the same thing he was: that they weren't expecting the runabout. And there was no way to be absolutely sure there were no aliens closer than the habitat.

  "I'll go check it out," Sanjari said. She rose from her seat, checked the pistol on her hip, then left the bridge.

  He heard her voice on the radio a minute later, sounding more cheerful than she had in hours. "Did you order a pizza, Admiral?"

  She was back on the bridge soon after, her arms loaded with square packages that steamed and emitted delicious odors. "Bento boxes," she said, beaming. "The kitchen crew on the Adamant got bored and decided to start making lunches." She moved around the bridge distributing packages, then took her own seat. "For EDF goons, they're not so bad."

  Hammett forgot the war for the next several minutes, trusting Sanjari and Kaur to keep half an eye on the enemy. He took off his helmet and gloves and gave his attention entirely to the food. The box contained a tray with cubes of vat chicken awash in a spicy gravy. There were sliced carrots and bread and a big lump of something sweet that tasted more or less like pineapple. He tried to simultaneously savor every morsel and gobble it all down. He didn't look up until the tray was spotless.

  "All right," Hal said, putting his own tray down. "I'm ready for anything now."

  "That ship is on the move," Sanjari said, setting her own box aside. "Coming this way."

  "Don't fixate on it," Hammett said. "For all we know there's a couple of limpet ships hiding in the rocks waiting to use this thing as a distraction." He stood, crossed to the waste receptacle in the corner, and discarded his box. "Spread the word. Everyone holds their fire until I give the order." The last thing he needed was an excited gunner wasting the last of their precious ammunition.

  "They're coming slowly," Sanjari said. "I estimate at least half an hour before they reach us."

  Hammett nodded, sitting back down and pulling on his gloves. "Considerate of them." Not that it would be enough. They needed hours, not minutes, to open the Gate.

  I have nothing to do for half an hour but sit here and second-guess my decisions. He shook his head, amused at himself, and closed his eyes. He spent a minute or two just meditating, clearing his mind as best he could. Then he ran through everything that had happened since he came through the first alien Gate, everything he knew about this system and the ships in it. He didn't pressure himself to think of new strategies. He just gave his subconscious room to work. If there was something he'd forgotten, something he was overlooking, his brain would deliver it up to him if he gave it a chance.

  "The enemy ship is braking, Sir."

  Hammett opened his eyes, startled to find that a quarter of an hour had passed. He checked his screen. The Tomahawk was in position directly above the Theseus. Even the Adamant had lumbered out of the thickest part of the asteroid field. The destroyer was directly below the Theseus, positioned crossways. She had two working laser turrets, both on her starboard side, so she was side-on to the enemy.

  "Hammett." Bloch's voice, peremptory and abrasive, came over the suit radio in a curt bark. "When they get within a kilometer I want you to advance. Engage them at close range and destroy any suicide ships that separate from the main body. I'll be firing missiles."

  The urge to refuse him was strong, but the man's rudeness was a poor reason to discount a strategy out of hand. Hammett made himself consider the idea. Any action at all—anything to disrupt the enemy's strategy—was preferable to staying still and doing nothing. And if a missile got through, it would certainly help.

  "Okay," he said.

  The alien ship was visible to the naked eye now. It was big. Frighteningly big. He stared at it as it grew slowly in front of the Theseus, feeling his blood pressure climb.

  He looked past the ship to the shambles that remained of the settlement. Okay, Hammett. It's a big, scary ship. But it's all they've got. They're desperate. It only looks overwhelming because they know there's no point in holding anything back.

  Of course, we're desperate too. We're betting everything, and our everything is a whole hell of a lot smaller than theirs. I've doomed us all. I've-

  "Well," said Eddie, "it's a nice big target, isn't it?" He turned in his chair, giving Hammett and Sanjari a strained grin. "We shouldn't have any trouble hitting it."

  Hammett laughed. The laugh caught him by surprise, draining away enough of his panic that clear thought returned. "Get ready, Eddie," he said. "We'll advance when they're a kilometer out."

  Eddie nodded, keeping any doubts to himself.

  "Lieutenant." Hammett turned to Sanjari. "Contact Captain Kaur. Ask her to advance with us."

  Sanjari nodded.

  "We smashed their home," Hammett said. "We blew their fleet to shreds. We beat them. And now we're going to do it again."

  That brought nods from the bridge crew. No one pointed out that the aliens had also bashed the hell out of the human fleet.

  This is it. The last real battle of the war. If we lose, there will be other battles, but we won't be around to fight them. If we win …. If we win, the war is truly over. There will be skirmishes after this, as Spacecom hunts down the remnants of the Hive. That's all.

  So all we have to do is find a way to win this battle. We have to keep them away from that Gate for a few more hours.

  Bigger and bigger the alien ship loomed. It looked like a mountain of metal in front of the Theseus, and Eddie said, "They're getting pretty close, Admiral."

  The enemy was close enough now that even the Theseus' outdated scanners could calculate the range. The ship was well inside the two-kilometer range and closing quickly. Hammett watched the numbers flash past on his screen. Fourteen hundred meters. Twelve hundred.

  Oh, to hell with it. Close enough. "Let's go, Eddie."

  CHAPTER 25 - KAUR

  They're moving, Captain." Even as Touhami spoke the Tomahawk began to move as well, matching the progress of the converted freighter. This had the effect of making the alien ship, already distressingly large, seem to grow at twice the rate.

  Kaur kept her hands still with an effort, though she desperately wanted to fidget. Why did I talk Hammett out of sending me home? That was stupid. Suicidally stupid. We could have made it. We could have found a way.

  She and Touhami had tactical displays of a sort, small screens strapped to the dead tac displays at their stations. The screens showed the feed from a camera freshly glued to the nose of the corvette. A sailor had found a box labeled 'Security Cam System' among the detritus in the hold of the Manatee and brought it back to the Tomahawk.

  The Tomahawk moved closer and closer to the alien ship, until Kaur found herself wanting to lean back in her chair. She could see nothing but a few rocks through the remaining window. Touhami, a handset pressed to the side of his head, fed her a steady stream of reports from the corvette's spotters. The alien ship was a hundred meters dead ahead and still closing. The Adamant was aft, maintaining its position. The Theseus was directly below the corvette, and still moving forward.

  The alien ship completely filled her screen. It looked enormous, and dangerously close. What the hell is Hammett doing? We're going to collide in a moment.

  "Ships are separating," said Touhami.

  "Lasers firing," said Jin at almost the same instant. No one was trying to directly supervise the gun crews. They had their orders.

  Kaur watched on her screen as a handful of small ships broke away from the monster alien craft. They were barely clear of the main ship when the Theseus fired a volley from her forward rail guns. Two of the little alien ships vanished, ripped apart by rail gun fire. Another spun to the side, badly damaged. The Tomahawk's gun crews poured fire into a third ship, and it staggered.

  Then, barely a second after the ships began to separate, the first missile struck. It hit a damaged ship, and Kaur cursed under her breath. The little alien ship was disabled, but the missile had come in too fast. The suicide sh
ip was still in the way, and the missile exploded several meters short of the main ship. She clenched her fists, fighting back a frustrated scream.

  And then the rest of the missiles struck.

  They arrived in a storm of flame and death, one missile after another slamming into the front of the alien behemoth and exploding. More individual ships tried to break away from the main body and intercept the arriving storm, and the Theseus fired another volley. The missiles were coming in too fast now for the aliens to respond, and the ships on the front edge were the ones hit worst by the missile barrage. By the time half a dozen missiles had struck the aliens were no longer even trying to intercept.

  Perhaps a dozen more missiles hit. They were coming in too fast for Kaur to count. A single Hive ship darted in from the side and intercepted a missile before it could strike the main ship.

  The rest of the volley made it through.

  "Their shields are down," Touhami cried. "Do we hit them now?"

  "With everything we've got," Kaur said. Her magazines were full, courtesy of the Manatee.

  He nodded and bawled orders into a handset. Kaur leaned forward in her seat, wishing she had a proper tactical display and undamaged scanners. Or a forward-facing window. She watched the blurry display on her screen as the Theseus fired one volley after another. They must have emptied the magazines for the forward rail guns, because the ship pivoted, swapping ends. Then it set to work with the aft battery, slamming massive stone-and-steel rounds into the alien ship.

  "The Hive ship's breaking apart," Touhami said, and Kaur held her breath. She wanted to imagine the alien disintegrating, so ravaged by missile strikes that it was utterly destroyed. She knew the modular nature of the enemy too well, though.

  "It's breaking into chunks," said Touhami, confirming her worst fears. "Five of them, looks like. No, six. Looks like their shields are working again."

  Six juggernauts. Even in her most optimistic scenario, missile and rail gun fire might have disabled or destroyed perhaps a third of the enemy vessel. Fifteen to twenty percent was more likely. That left, what? A dozen ships in each of six amalgamated craft? More?