Senator Gray motioned for them to lower their weapons. ‘Stand down,’ she said, ‘there is nothing to fear here.’
The Ayleeans didn’t move as Tyrone staggered forward. ‘Why are you here?’
‘We did not leave Fortitude,’ Senator Gray said. ‘We were waiting for rescue.’
‘Why didn’t you signal me when I flew past you before?’
‘You were but one ship,’ Gray replied with a gentle smile. ‘We could not betray our presence here aboard Fortitude.’
‘You could have run.’
‘The capital ship was here and it would have caught us easily.’
‘It’s not here now.’
‘And we wish to leave, urgently. Come, the ship is ready and we have avoided any permanent damage. But we must escape before the capital ship returns.’
Tyrone hesitated.
‘The capital ship has been gone for several hours,’ he said, and on an impulse: ‘CSS Titan and Pegasus were both badly damaged and had to leave. They won’t be coming back.’
Gray smiled.
‘Titan was only partially hit,’ she insisted. ‘She will return with more ships and we can meet them.’
Tyrone shook his head. ‘Titan was never here and nor was Pegasus. Senator Gray would have known the difference between Ships of the Line and frigates. It was you who sent the distress signal, wasn’t it, to send me down there and locate the hiding Ayleeans?’
Senator Gray’s face folded into fury and she pointed at the Ayleeans as she screeched at the top of her voice.
‘Seize them and kill all those who resist!’
From out of sight behind her surged a wave of silvery, pulsing material that rushed like a fluid into the landing bay and washed past Senator Gray and her soldiers, absorbing them as it moved and splitting into two forms that began flanking the Ayleean force.
‘Fire!’ Tyrone shouted.
The Ayleeans opened up with their plasma rifles on the advancing wave as Tyrone saw Senator Gray’s form dissolve into the crystalline soup that surged toward them. Almost immediately the front of the wave churned up into the form of multiple octopeds that leaped out at them, oblivious to the wave of plasma fire rocketing toward them.
‘Fall back!’
Shylo waved his men back and they began retreating by sections, each covering another with rapid plasma fire that smashed into the advancing octoped creatures in showers of burning embers as their shape shifting cellular forms were melted by the blasts.
Tyrone fired twice at the nearest form and saw his plasma bolts sear a hole straight through it, only for that hole to be instantly filled in as the wave of material advanced toward them. Tyrone looked over his shoulder and saw the Ayleeans rushing forward with what looked like slingshots that they swung over their heads.
‘Get down!’
Tyrone ducked at Shylo’s command and the slingshots let go, each one as large as a man’s head and filled with a syrupy concoction of goab tree sap. The missiles arced over Tyrone’s head and slammed into the advancing octoped ranks. Tyrone saw the thick fluid instantly stiffen the shape shifting bodies as they tried to move forward, binding the cellular material together into glutinous lumps that sagged and drooped under their own weight.
‘Fire!’
The Ayleeans opened up once more with a barrage of plasma fire, carefully avoiding the areas where the wave had been hit with the sap. Now, their plasma shots seared through the octoped ranks and drove them back toward the landing bay walls either side of the Ayleeans.
Tyrone saw an opportunity and yelled a command.
‘Forward!’
Tyrone dashed for the landing bay entrance as the Ayleean force rushed away from the shuttle behind them and followed him into the wide corridor. Tyrone turned and began firing in support of the Ayleeans as they evacuated the landing bay.
‘Get everyone out of the bay!’ Tyrone yelled.
The Ayleeans tumbled out of the landing bay and ran down the corridor as the warriors behind them fired in retreat at the roiling masses of alien fluid now turning to pursue them once more, laboring under the burden of the goab sap. The slingshots fired once again, splattering the mass with more glutinous sap and further hindering its progress.
Tyrone saw the shape shifting forms looking at themselves and the thick sap restraining them, saw one of the octoped aliens transform again into Senator Gray and scream in fury as she pointed at him.
Shylo fired at her and the plasma blast smashed through her face in a cloud of burning embers as he retreated through the corridor entrance with the last of the Ayleeans. Tyrone, his heart racing and his skin drenched with sweat, hit the emergency close switch and the entrance slammed shut.
The corridor was filled with the sound of heavily breathing Ayleeans as Tyrone opened a panel on the wall beside the now closed doors and accessed a terminal. He input his ID code and security pass, and moments later another smaller hatch turned green. He pulled it open and grabbed a handle inside that was emblazoned with black and yellow chevrons.
Tyrone turned to see the form of Senator Gray once again, this time with her face pressed up against the door windows and rage etched into her semi opaque features. Tyrone looked at her and smiled through his pain.
‘Have a nice day.’
Tyrone hauled down on the handle and instantly the landing bay doors opened as the hard light shielding was shut down. An emergency protocol in the event of on board fire in the bay, the opening doors and disabled hard light shielding evacuated the landing bay instantly.
Senator Gray’s rage turned for a brief instant to horror and Tyrone saw her scream as she and the entire mass of shape shifting goo was sucked out of the landing bay in a rush of vapor and ice crystals as the air was frozen solid in an instant.
Senator Gray’s scream was frozen in place as she vanished and tumbled out into deep space amid a sparkling cloud of frozen shape shifting octopeds and shapeless masses.
Tyrone slumped against the wall, holding himself up by the hand still gripping the emergency handle. He turned as he saw the Ayleean elders move alongside him, and one of them held a pouch made from the black leaf of a tree from Ayleea. Something foul smelling inside the pouch made him recoil, but the elder pushed his head down toward it.
‘Breathe it,’ he insisted.
Tyrone sucked in a deep lungful of the putrid smelling juice sloshing about inside the pouch and he almost vomited. But almost instantly the stench dissolved into something entirely different, a blissful sense of peace. Tyrone felt the pain in his body subside and he smiled dreamily as he let go of the handle. Strong hands caught him once again as the elder yanked his flight suit aside and slapped more of the strange concoction over the wound in his back, further easing the pain. Tyrone looked up blearily at Shylo.
‘Man, you can gimme some more o’ that sugar,’ he mumbled.
Shylo gripped Tyrone’s collar.
‘We need you to fly us out of here,’ he snapped. ‘A CSS ship will not respond to Ayleean commands, remember? Our ID chips will not allow it.’
‘Shhuuurrre,’ Tyrone whispered, ‘it’s a ciece of pake. Man, I’ve got this.’
Shylo rolled his eyes and glanced at the elder. ‘I told you, humans can’t cope with the seed of a Clysco Bat.’
The elder shrugged, and as Tyrone looked down he saw the Ayleean child standing on her own two feet and smiling up at him. Feeling immensely pleased with himself, Tyrone clicked the fingers of one hand.
‘Take me to your leader! I mean, to the bridge!’
Even before they could move, an Ayleean shouted a warning down the corridor.
‘The capital ship! It’s back!’
***
XXXII
Tyrone staggered onto the bridge, his boots barely touching the deck as he was carried between the muscular arms of two Ayleean warriors. Fortitude’s bridge was almost completely dark, only emergency lighting available as Tyrone was dragged unceremoniously to the captain’s seat and dumped into it.
‘Tyrone, focus. We need you to access the main computer and give us manual control of the ship before we’re overrun by that material or the capital ship.’
Tyrone struggled to think straight, his head swimming and his body numb from the strange concoction of chemicals now warring with the venom coursing through his veins. Sweltering hot one moment, frigid with cold the next, his heart fluttered in his chest as he stared blankly at the controls before him.
‘We need access, now!’ Shylo snapped, and pointed ahead.
Tyrone looked up to where the main display was showing the view ahead of the ship. Unlike most warships, the view ahead aboard Fortitude was through an actual window rather than blast shielded display panels. There, out in the bitter vacuum, Tyrone saw a shadowy warship looming toward them, its shape identifiable only by the stars that it eclipsed as it moved.
‘Hurry!’
Tyrone sucked in a lungful of air and felt his head clear just a little as he pulled himself upright in his seat and looked around him. His training kicked in and he spoke almost without thinking.
‘Protocol eight one three alpha niner, initiate!’
The ship’s computer scanned Tyrone’s ID chip and immediately the ship’s bridge hummed into life as computers reengaged and the lights flickered on.
‘Lieutenant Hackett, Tyrone, oh four seven delta three three one, computer override on DNA and chip analysis.’
The ship’s computer calculated in an instant its response, the soothing female voice filling the bridge.
‘Access denied, alien presence detected aboard the ship, recommend lockdown protocol effective immediately.’
‘Damn it, those things must still be aboard the ship!’ Shylo snapped.
‘Belay that order,’ Tyrone replied to the computer. ‘Identify alien presence and location.’
‘Multiple Ayleeans detected on bridge, deck level three, four and…’
‘Disregard Ayleeans!’ Tyrone cut the machine off.
‘No other unidentified persons aboard the vessel.’
‘All Ayleeans are fugitives from a global attack,’ Tyrone insisted as he looked at Shylo, ‘and are now allies of CSS. Scan Ayleea if you don’t believe me. The enemy is directly ahead of us, off the port bow and we’re about to be attacked!’
A deafening silence filled the bridge as Shylo hissed.
‘They’re going to fire!’
Even as he said it the alien capital ship loomed into clearer view and her vast bulk suddenly was illuminated by internal lighting as it charged its main cannons. Scanner alerts swept the senate cruiser as she was scanned prior to attack.
‘Damn it!’ Tyrone yelled. ‘We need control now!’
The ship’s computer replied, its tone as genial as ever.
‘Ayleea scan complete, all life forms assessed, destruction evaluated. Assessment concurs with Lieutenant Hackett’s report.’
‘Give the Ayleeans the bridge!’ Tyrone yelled, almost laughing in exasperation and disbelief as the enemy vessel’s plasma cannons glowed deep red.
‘Negative, Lieutenant, control may only pass to a certified CSS officer of sufficient rank to…’
‘Give me control, now!’ Tyrone yelled.
‘You have control, lieutenant.’
Tyrone leaped out of the captain’s seat and virtually hurled himself onto the main throttles at the helmsman’s station. Fortitude surged forward as her engines engaged and the cruiser accelerated out of the debris field as four massive plasma blasts rocketed away from the enemy ship and zipped past behind the cruiser to slam into the debris field in a frenzy of explosions.
‘Hard to port!’ Shylo yelled.
Tyrone pushed the helm over as the massive stern of a wrecked Ayleean warship loomed out of the darkness to be illuminated by Fortitude’s running lights. The cruiser heeled over and the distant sound of metal scraping along metal shuddered down the hull as the cruiser slipped free and turned toward deep space.
‘We’ve got to get out of here,’ Tyrone gasped as he slumped off the controls. ‘Somebody get the shields up?’
Shylo’s Ayleean warriors quickly dispersed to the various stations across the bridge even as the cruiser shook violently as a plasma blast slammed into the debris field somewhere behind it. Tyrone saw them scan the various stations and quickly familiarize themselves with the controls, their language not so far removed from that of CSS that they couldn’t read.
‘We have no weapons, only shields,’ one of the warriors pointed out.
‘You have ships without weapons?’ Shylo asked in horror.
‘This was a diplomatic mission,’ Tyrone said defensively. ‘Would you have rather we showed up aboard Titan?’
‘The enemy vessel is turning to pursue us!’ one of the warriors yelled.
Tyrone gripped the controls of the helmsman’s station as he gritted his teeth to focus more clearly. ‘They won’t keep up with this bird. Open a channel to Polaris Station, emergency frequency at full power.’
The Ayleean behind the communications panel began scrutinizing the display before him as Tyrone pushed the throttles wide open and the cruiser accelerated away from the debris field. Despite the gravitational plating Tyrone could feel the ship’s acceleration and he heard Shylo gasp as he reached out for the command rail to steady himself.
‘Navigation,’ Tyrone called, ‘plug us in a super luminal route home, direct to the Sol System. We need to warn them of what’s happening as fast as we can.’
The warrior nodded as he began sweeping his big hands over the controls as two of the elders approached Tyrone.
‘Are you sure you can get us there without us being intercepted?’
Tyrone grinned as he glanced at the tactical display and saw the big capital ship being left behind.
‘This is a senate cruiser,’ he said. ‘They’re not armed, but they’re built for high speed diplomacy and VIP transport. There’s nothing in our fleet that can keep up with them, even in super luminal. Once we jump, we’ll be long gone. Trust me, there’s nothing that can go wrong now.’
A voice called out across the bridge.
‘New contacts, dead ahead, enemy capital ships!’
Tyrone’s confidence wilted as he saw two massive capital ships rush out of super luminal cruise right ahead of them in bright flashes of light.
‘You were saying?’ Shylo uttered as he peered down at Tyrone.
‘Turn us around,’ the elder insisted.
‘We can’t turn around, the other one’s behind us,’ Tyrone snapped. ‘We’re gonna have to make the best of it.’
‘You can make the best out of a situation like this?’
Tyrone didn’t reply as he twisted the controls and the senate cruiser rolled along its trajectory in a graceful manoeuver known as a barrel roll as a salvo of plasma blasts rocketed toward it from the enemy capital ships. The shots zipped past the cruiser on all sides, detonating nearby as they went and shaking the ship from bow to stern as she raced past, the rolling flight path spoiling the enemy’s aim.
Tyrone gave a whoop of delight as the ship levelled out and raced past between the two capital ships, which were now line abreast and could not fire at Fortitude without risking hitting each other. The senate cruiser accelerated through the gap and soared free as the two lumbering capital ships began to turn.
‘We’re out of here! Navigation, you got my destination coordinates plugged in yet?’
‘The coordinates are set but we have no super luminal power,’ came the reply. ‘They engines must have been damaged during our escape from the debris field.’
‘The hull,’ Shylo growled. ‘It was hit by debris when we departed the field.’
Tyrone cursed as he glanced at the cruiser’s engine displays. Without the Higgs Drive they wouldn’t be able to leave the Ayleean system at all. Even at maximum sub luminal velocity it would take the cruiser decades to reach Sol.
‘Two more contacts, dead ahead!’
An alarm blared as Tyrone saw two huge white flashes burst into life before him and two more massive capital ships lunged out of super luminal cruise and opened fire almost immediately.
‘Brace for impact!’
Tyrone yelled the warning as he hauled the controls to one side and the cruiser soared to starboard as plasma bolts rocketed toward it in flaming red flares.
The cruiser pulled up and right but the shots were launched far too close to avoid entirely and the cruiser shuddered as it took a direct hit to the stern. Tyrone heard the blast and felt the ship rock from one side to the other as her hull was shattered by the immense impact.
The ship echoed with alarms as Tyrone tried to maintain control, the lights flickering and work stations blasting out sparks from electrical overloads as circuits were melted and control linkages severed.
‘We’re hit, badly, all stern sections ablaze!’
‘Shields are out!’ called another Ayleean. ‘The enemy are turning to engage us again!’
Tyrone looked at the engine displays and saw that two of the upper engines were entirely destroyed, only the lower pair remaining.
‘Divert all power to the remaining engines!’ he yelled. ‘Get us out of here!’
‘The enemy are preparing to fire!’ the Ayleean warned. ‘They’re almost within range!’
Tyrone desperately sought a way out of their predicament, but he knew with a sudden overwhelming sense of defeat that there was no escape now. They could still outrun the capital ships, but there was nowhere to run to but the cold embrace of deep space and a legacy of sailing through the silent void for millennia. They would all die of old age, starvation or hypothermia long before they even left the system.
‘Communications channel established with Sol!’ another Ayleean shouted above the blaring alarms.
Tyrone knew what he had to do.
‘Open the frequency!’
A moment later and Tyrone was on his feet as he saw an image of Rear Admiral Vincent O’Hara before him, the perfectly formed holographic image seeming to be standing on the damaged bridge with him.
Predator (Old Ironsides Book 3) Page 25