by J. N. Chaney
“Surprised that the Deepers have kept her alive?”
“Yeah—”
The threat indicator lit up more than it already was. The mechs had been lit up by tracking sensors. A heartbeat or two later, missile launchers on the Arkubator started coughing out projectiles, while x-ray lasers opened fire. But it was a pretty anemic attack, Dash thought. The full weight of incoming fire might have matched that of a single battlecruiser.
“Gotta admit, I was kind of expecting this all to be some massive scheme to get the mechs here and then reveal this Arkubator was mostly made of weapons,” Leira said.
“Yeah, I’m a little underwhelmed,” Amy added. “I actually thought this was all going to be some elaborate ruse. Like, the whole thing with the Bishops, the gate, the attack into League space, all of it was a set up to get us here.”
“That’d be a little convoluted, even for the Deepers,” Conover said. “There’d be, like, a dozen ways that plan wouldn’t work.”
“Conover’s right. The Deepers might be cunning and deceptive, but they’re not going to leave as many things to chance as that plan would require,” Dash agreed.
“I think it’s the opposite. I don’t think they expected to face the resistance they did when they came through that gate, and they sure didn’t expect they’d capture Jexin. So they’re stuck doing the make it up as you go along thing,” Conover said.
“So how do you want to do this, Conover?” Dash asked.
“You and Leira are going to bust into that Arkubator, do the big stompy robot thing, and find Jexin. Amy and I are going to stay outside and give you cover.”
Dash couldn’t help chuckling. “Conover, I love your plans—simple and straight to the point.”
He turned his attention to tactical and started lining up targets to attack during the final run in.
The four mechs methodically demolished the weapons systems mounted on the Arkubator, opening the way for Dash and Leira to reach the massive ship’s hull at the point closest to the source of Jexin’s Meld. As he decelerated the Archetype, he took fire from a burst-cannon, which the shield handily sloughed off. Before he could reply, though, Conover had already sniped the Deeper weapon mount.
“So how do you want to do this, Dash?” Leira asked.
“Well, in keeping with Conover’s keep-it-simple-stupid philosophy, we’ll just bust our way in and find Jex,” he replied, deploying the power-sword and slowing to a crawl with respect to the Arkubator. He picked a section of hull free of obstructions, grounded the mech, applied thrust to keep it there, and swung the sword.
It slammed into the tough alloy, which had been built to withstand millennia of exposure to the hostility of deep space. Dash poured energy into the blade until it thrummed with crackling discharge, then pulled it through the hull plating, leaving a glowing gash. Leira landed a short distance away and did the same with the Swift’s power-axe, hacking out a gap in the Arkubator’s flank.
“This is a lot easier than it used to be,” Dash said before lifting the sword, rotating it a quarter-turn, then slamming it into the hull again and resuming his cutting. “Gotta love those hexacores.”
In minutes, he and Leira had managed to open a gap large enough to let the mechs enter the vast ship. Dash didn’t hesitate.
“Okay, Conover, we’re going in.”
“Roger that. Good luck.”
“We make our own luck,” Dash muttered and pushed his way into the Arkubator.
Dash strode across the enormous compartment, applying thrust to simulate enough gravity to allow the Archetype to walk. More Deeper warriors came charging across the expansive deck, clambering over broken machinery and pouring small-arms fire into the mech. Bigger, bulkier warriors filled the role of heavy weapons, slamming bolts of plasma and sticky streams of corrosive organic goo. As before, the resulting damage was minor, even superficial, but it slowly piled up. Moreover, the Archetype still carried the scars of the previous battle on the other side of the gate. Dash grimly ignored the warriors while striding toward the beacon of Jexin’s Meld, crushing Deepers underfoot and blasting them to chitinous fragments with the Archetype’s point-defense batteries as he advanced. Leira followed, backing him up but also keeping a wary eye behind them to ensure their escape route didn’t get closed off.
“Two hundred meters ahead, slightly to the left, and above,” Sentinel said. Dash muttered an acknowledgment and changed direction accordingly. As he did, he swept the power-sword through a throng of Deeper warriors moving to block him, scything them like dry grass.
“Okay, Leira, as soon as we—” Dash started, then cut himself off as something massive stepped out of the next compartment, into view.
A Battle Prince. No, two of them.
Dash was in no mood for anything but being Conover’s big stompy robot. He changed course again, then raised the power-sword and charged the nearest Prince. With every thunderous step, the Archetype smashed more warriors to viscous slime and shards of chitin.
The Battle Prince strode forward to meet him, wielding a spear whose head howled with coruscating energy. It struck out, trying to take advantage of its longer reach. Dash grabbed the spear and yanked the Battle Prince toward him, angling the power-sword as he did. His blade slammed into the Battle Prince’s chest. Between the Archetype’s hard pull and the Prince’s momentum, the flaring point slid through armor and whatever lay behind in a shower of sparks. The Battle Prince spasmed, desperately trying to dislodge itself. Dash obliged and pushed it away from him, then slashed it from shoulder almost to waist.
The Battle Prince toppled backward. Dash continued his remorseless advance, making sure to slam the Archetype’s massive foot down on the Battle Prince’s upper torso, crushing it.
“And that would be the stompy part,” he said, setting his gaze on the second Battle Prince.
Unlike its comrade, this one held back and tried to engage Dash with ranged weapons, a burst-cannon and x-ray laser. But that was a mistake, too. The Archetype’s shield was still active, even if largely ineffective against the warriors, who could simply attack the mech from inside its area of effect. It absorbed the shots from the Battle Prince, filling with energy.
Dash grinned with the vigor of a gleeful hunter.
“Sentinel, dump the shield.”
She immediately switched the shield into radiate mode, releasing the accumulated energy in a searing pulse. In space, this generally had little effect beyond emptying the shield and cycling it back into use, fresh. In the confined space of the Arkubator, though, the effect was instant—and devastating. In a blinding flash, every Deeper warrior in the compartment was incinerated in place, reduced to carbonized gore.
But Dash’s grin faded. The blast had wiped out the warriors, at least for the moment, but it also slammed into the Arkubator’s structure, doing mortal damage. Dash could feel the enormous ship shudder under his feet, then keep shuddering, as structural components began to fail.
“Shit! Leira! Take care of this asshole Battle Prince while I find Jex!”
Leira strode forward and raised the flaring power-axe.
“Oh, with pleasure,” she growled, then flung herself at the Battle Prince.
Dash changed the Archetype’s thrust vector, lifting it toward the source of Jexin’s Meld. The Arkubator trembled again, hull plating ripping free, exposing the big empty beyond.
Dash cursed and lifted the power-sword—then hesitated. According to Sentinel’s tracking, Jexin should pretty much be just on the other side of the bulkhead in front of him. His instinct was to slash it open, but between the damage already done to the massive ship and the fact that he knew nothing about the conditions on the other side of the wall, he checked himself.
He glanced back and down at Leira, and saw her locked in vicious melee combat against the Battle Prince. She seemed to be holding her own but, incredibly, even more Deeper warriors were starting to swarm back into the compartment. And the huge ship was still trembling and starting to come apart.
“Sentinel, do we know if the other side of this bulkhead is pressurized?”
“Actually, we do, as it has become distorted by the Arkubator’s ongoing structural failure and is leaking atmosphere gas.”
“Shit. How long can Jex survive exposure to vacuum?”
“Her physiology is similar to that of a human, so we should assume a maximum of ninety seconds.”
“Okay, then. Here’s what we’re going to do.”
Dash cringed in the hollow of the Archetype’s hand, trying to keep himself covered from the worst of the Deeper warriors’ fire. They’d seen him clamber out of the mech in his vac-armor and decided that he was now their priority target. Plasma bolts and organic muck slammed into the huge fingers, hitting him with splash damage.
Above him, more hull plating ripped free, followed by a major structure member, a massive, curved beam.
“Sentinel, anytime would be good!”
“Understood.”
Sentinel lifted the power-sword and slid it almost gently into the bulkhead. As she cut, gases and water vapor erupted from the gash in a shimmering, silvery cloud. By the time Sentinel had carved out an opening big enough to let Dash pass through, the gases had stopped, and the clock was ticking on Jexin’s survival.
Assuming she was still alive, that is.
Dash clambered through the opening. He saw glassy tubes reminiscent of those they’d found on some Golden ships. Pipes and conduits snaked through the chamber. Some had already broken, venting more gases or gushing viscous fluids. The far bulkhead had already buckled, exposing another one beyond.
A tremendous shock slammed through the Arkubator, as though it had just been struck by some gargantuan hammer. Dash pitched sideways, fighting frantically to keep his footing and his mag-pistol raised.
“Dash, the Arkubator’s pretty much just broken in half! You and Leira need to get out of there!” Conover shouted over the comm.
“No shit,” Dash muttered, regaining his feet.
He saw Jexin. She was strapped to a flat metal table. Tubes and cables snaked out of her body, into machinery clustered around her, and as he stared, her body lifted as if in a rictus of pain.
Dash checked the chrono. Thirty seconds had passed. He had one minute, then Jexin would almost certainly be beyond recovery.
He pushed himself toward her and grabbed the table before he could drift by. Jexin’s features were beginning to bloat, as dissolved gases bubbled out of her blood and tissue. He gave the cables and tubes a brief scan, then thought screw it and just started yanking them out. It left him momentarily preoccupied, which is why he missed the pair of Deeper warriors shoving their way through from the next compartment and leaping at Dash, wickedly scything talons poised to rake at him.
But Sentinel didn’t miss them. Dash yelped as the power-sword, whose blade was wider than he was tall, slid past him and slammed both warriors back against the opposite bulkhead. Sentinel’s stab had missed him and Jexin by a little over a meter.
Forty seconds left.
Dash ripped the restraints free, grabbed Jexin, and threw himself back at the opening, following the power-sword as Sentinel withdrew it. He leapt back into the Archetype’s hand, allowing Sentinel to return him and Jexin to the mech’s cockpit. The Deeper warriors resumed their fusillade. Dash did his best to shield Jexin’s body with his own armored form.
Twenty seconds left.
Dash shoved Jexin into the cockpit and leapt in behind her.
“Sentinel, we’re in!”
The cockpit closed and immediately began to repressurize. Sentinel expedited the process, reducing what should have taken thirty seconds to less than ten.
Dash ripped his helmet free. “Come on, Jex. We came all this way. Now you’ve gotta do your part and, you know, live.”
She lay motionless on the deck.
“Come on, Jex! Come on, be alive—”
Her body convulsed, then she sucked in a ragged breath.
“She is alive and stabilizing. Now, I would recommend we execute a hasty withdrawal,” Sentinel declared.
“Leira, you still with us?”
“I was done a while ago. I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Do it, Sentinel! Shortest possible route. Get us the hell out of here!”
The Archetype lifted fast and smashed through what hull plating remained at the top of the huge compartment. The Swift followed, shouldering aside a big structural beam that fell into its path.
Dash clambered back into the cradle. He took one last look at Jexin—she seemed to be breathing, at least—then immersed himself back in the Meld, guiding the Archetype to rendezvous with the other mechs. Behind them, the Arkubator continued to ponderously break apart, turning itself into a halo of scrap orbiting the lonely white dwarf.
Aside from a brief firefight with the Deepers that had been pursuing them, the mechs were able to make it back to the gate unscathed. As they lined themselves up to transit back into League space, Conover came over the comm.
“Dash, I’m officially handing command back over to you.”
“I have command,” Dash replied, then grinned. “Conover, you did a fantastic job. I wouldn’t hesitate to put you in charge again.”
“Hear, hear,” Leira said.
Amy’s voice rang with pride. “That’s my guy!”
Dash could hear Conover’s face turning red. “Uh, yeah. Thanks, everyone. How’s Jexin doing?”
“Sentinel says she’s in rough shape, but she’s stable. We need to get her back through the gate and into the Herald’s infirmary, though, pronto,” Dash replied.
As they arrayed themselves for insertion into the gate, a new voice came over the comm. It was Tybalt.
“Messenger, you should ask Leira to show you her trophy.”
“Her what?”
“Ask her.”
“Okay, Leira, can I see your trophy?”
He watched as the Swift reached down into a leg compartment and extracted something, then held it up for everyone to see.
It was the head of the Deeper Battle Prince.
“Grisly, but badass,” Conover said.
Leira let out a sinister chuckle. “Not as grisly as what I would have taken if I’d had the chance and the Deepers had the right anatomy.”
Dash laughed. “Appreciate the sentiment, Leira, but I don’t think we really need any more bookends, do we?”
12
“Hey, Jex, how are you doing?” Dash asked, keeping his voice low to avoid disturbing any of the other patients in the Forge’s infirmary.
She slowly turned her head to face him. “Awful, thanks.”
Dash smiled. “Yeah, Custodian said you’d be here a while. Fortunately, he’s the best doctor in the whole galaxy.”
“And now, beyond it, given that we’re in intergalactic space,” Custodian put in.
Dash grinned, while Jexin managed a weak smile. It quickly fled her face, though, replaced by lingering pain and—something else.
“Look, Jex, I just wanted to check in on you. You get some rest—”
She shook her head and struggled to sit up. That pulled Dash’s attention to her leg, clad in a healing cast. For some reason, the Deepers had seemed particularly interested in her leg, although interested really meant brutally invasive. They’d sliced away skin, muscle, and other tissue, and carved out samples of bone. Custodian was trying to rebuild the leg a cell at a time, using nano-scale medical remotes. He wasn’t sure if it would be successful, or if he’d even end up having to amputate and replace it with a prosthetic.
Which was all bad enough. But the Deepers apparently didn’t know what anesthetic was, or simply didn’t care, because Jexin had felt every second of it.
“Dash, we don’t have time for me to lay around,” she said.
But Dash gently pushed her back down. “Yeah, we do. I need you back to one hundred percent so you can get back aboard the Polaris—which, I might point out, is being rebuilt to be even better, faster, and stronger
. Custodian’s essentially scrapped it and started a new mech pretty much from scratch, which means it can be built to incorporate the new upgrades into it instead of adding them on after.”
Jexin locked her gaze on Dash’s. For a moment, he thought she might do more than just object. He caught a flash of abject fury, a rage so intense it seemed to blow away higher thought and leave Jexin more like one of her ancient, reptilian ancestors. She was, for an instant, just a killing machine. Dash forced himself to not back away but readied himself to tell Custodian to put her under before she hurt him, anyone else, or herself.
But it passed, and she let out a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry, Dash. It might be a while before I’m at full speed again.”
“It won’t be as long as you think. Anyway, I’ll leave you to rest.”
Before he could turn away, Jexin caught his arm. “Actually, there is one thing you should know right now.”
“Jex, we’re going to do a full debrief just as soon as—”
“No. This is important. The Deeper that—that interrogated me. It wasn’t like the others. It was more like what you’d get if you fused a Deeper warrior and a human together.”
“Okay, that’s not an appealing picture, but—go on.”
“Tell me about it. Anyway, it spoke to me.”
“Spoke? As in spoke spoke? It talked to you?”
She nodded. “And I could understand it because it spoke our language.”
Dash frowned. “Go on.”
“It mostly talked about how it didn’t recognize my species. That’s why—” She stopped and took a breath. “It said it was going to take me apart, to learn—”
“Okay, Jex, you don’t have to do this, not right now.”
“No, Dash, this is important. It called itself Ravan. I’m not sure if that was its name, or a title, or what. But that seemed to be important to it, to use that name.”
“Ravan? Are you sure?”
“I am. Why, do you recognize that name?”
Dash puffed out a breath. “Actually, I do. Or at least I know one meaning of that word. It’s from an old language developed by traders, especially the sort involved in, uh, let’s call it the more creative sorts of commerce. It’s called Merchant’s Cant. It’s a real mishmash of made-up words, gestures, even signs and pictures. I only knew a bit of it. I don’t think anyone knows it all because it’s constantly changing, being tweaked by the people who use it to fit their own needs.”