by Sean Danker
She was dead.
Salmagard and Deilani had been set upon. Without decent weapons, they’d never had a chance down here in these tight corridors. Deilani had the fuel; Salmagard had tried to play hero and stall, giving the lieutenant time to get away and escape with me and Nils.
I supposed, from the perspective of the Service, that was the right and proper thing to do.
But it was naive for her to think that dying was all it would take to put her problems to rest. It was never that easy.
Salmagard hadn’t been gone long.
This was why the Empress had given us stasis technology; there was very little that Evagardian medicine couldn’t repair. As long as most of her brain was intact, if I could get her back to the satellite in the next few minutes, the Empire could put her back together at their leisure.
No, I wasn’t a real admiral, but that didn’t make it okay for people to die on my watch.
I tried to pick her up, but couldn’t. I was shaking like a leaf. My luck had run out along with my strength, but I wasn’t ready to quit. My arms weren’t up to it, but maybe my back was. I put down the flare launcher and got her around my shoulders. She wasn’t very big. Tiny, really. I struggled to my feet.
I couldn’t go back the way I came. That part of the ship was infested, and I’d sealed it off regardless.
A few tendrils of green mist wafted around my ankles. Well, it was either that, or try to find my way through this labyrinth of a ship.
Besides, my last trip outside hadn’t been so bad.
I doubled over, coughing, Salmagard’s weight crushing me to the deck. When I opened my eyes, there was blood on the inside of my faceplate, and Salmagard’s body was on the ground.
“Lieutenant,” I choked, reactivating the com.
“Yes?” Deilani didn’t sound good.
I got Salmagard back over my shoulder and set off, following the mist.
“I need a way in from the outside. To the silo. A fast way.”
There was a tear in the hull ahead. I made for it, feeling like I was forgetting something.
The starlight seemed bright compared to the inside of the sealed-off portion of the ship. Blinding. The walls of the valley didn’t block the view. There was this world’s green sun, and beyond it I thought I could see the bright blues and pinks of the Demenis system. I stumbled on the tear, and we tumbled down to a lower walkway.
“Lieutenant?” I groaned, picking myself up and crawling to Salmagard.
“There’s a hatch by the silo for maintenance.”
“Isn’t it buried?” I pulled the private over my shoulders yet again and heaved to my feet.
“You didn’t uncover it?”
I staggered into the open, planting my foot on the sloping hull of the ship, and looking up at the valley wall.
“Oh,” I said. That was what I’d forgotten: the timers I’d set on the explosives.
The blast sent up a wave of black dust and vapor, nearly knocking me off my feet. There were shapes in the cloud, which fanned out hundreds of meters above the ship.
The destruction ahead was vast, and perfectly silent. It looked slow and lethargic.
The colony ship shook, and sank several centimeters, taking me with it. The valley walls began to move and crumble.
As I started to make my way up the hull, everything began to tremble. There was a second explosion—but it wasn’t an explosion.
The formation hadn’t been a formation, and it hadn’t been some kind of nest structure.
It was a portion of the leg of a xeno twice the size of the colony ship.
I thought I’d seen large xenos earlier, but this one made it clear how little we understood these things. The scale of it was staggering.
I didn’t know if I was looking at the mother of all these xenos, or just the one with the biggest appetite.
And I’d just woken it up.
The leg rose, casting aside boulders the size of shuttles like they were grains of sand. Rocks and xenos rained down on the ship, some of them punching through the hull, others pulverized on it. There was a second geyser of black dust and green mist as another leg broke free of the surface half a kilometer away, sending millions of tons of the black rock cascading to the floor of the valley.
A xeno even bigger than the one I’d bombed only minutes before landed in front of me, scrambling to its feet only to be smashed by more falling rock.
With Salmagard growing heavier by the second, I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. The hull of the ship was like the black planet itself when we’d been crossing it.
Endless.
The ship itself was in a frenzy, its emergency systems trying to acknowledge all of this new damage. Sealant and coolant were being vented in towering columns all around. Now it was easy to see the mist for what it was: there were green streaks and highlights in the sky, forming elaborate patterns against the stars as the swarms reacted to the chaos.
I couldn’t see through my bloody faceplate to find the hatch, and even if I could I wouldn’t have seen the rock that hit me. I fell to the hull, losing track of Salmagard’s body. My suit was compromised, and I felt icy cold on my back as I rolled over.
The gigantic leg of the behemoth crashed down on the ship, tearing through it like it wasn’t even there. The colony ship rocked and tilted, threatening to send me back to the valley floor.
Rocks, wreckage, and flailing xenos tumbled past. I lost control, sliding down the rising slope.
I caught a bloody glimpse of a white figure. I grabbed Salmagard’s wrist and held on, putting a charge in my other hand and planting it, though it felt as if my arm was being pulled from its socket. Deilani was saying something, but I couldn’t hear her. I pulled Salmagard to me and tried to crawl, but we weren’t actually going anywhere. I couldn’t move myself, much less the both of us.
Rubble exploded on the hull, opening up more tears in my suit.
I caught another glimpse of white, and looked up. A hatch had opened, and a figure that could only be Deilani was climbing out. She ran for us, dodging falling rock. She tried to pull me up, but I wouldn’t let go of Salmagard. Making noises of undisguised frustration, she dragged both of us.
I didn’t climb into the hatch as much as fall through. I hit the floor hard, blacking out for a moment.
Deilani came down the ladder with Salmagard.
She had to drag us into the satellite, where she unceremoniously dumped us both on the deck. I didn’t see Nils—no, he was already in stasis. Deilani picked up the terminal and poked at it. There was a shudder, and we were all slammed to the deck.
The terminal bounced past me, its screen showing the enormous mother xeno shrinking away below us as it emerged from the surface, and the colony ship vanishing into the blackness of the planet, swallowed just like Captain Tremma’s freighter.
21
THE carbon shielding shattered like glass.
The massive cruiser punched through the armored plates as if they weren’t even there. The impact was deafening, even from so far away. The forty-five-hundred-meter vessel was out of control, smashing effortlessly through the city. Buildings and towers were brushed aside like kilometer-high blades of grass, breaking apart and toppling in the distance. Glittering structures disintegrated by the dozen. Flyers veered, little more than points of light trying to avoid the destruction.
The ship crashed through tier after tier of raised highways and elevated train routes, sending it all spiraling away, pulled toward the breach.
Blue and green flames flashed around the cruiser’s hull as coolant was burned off. The station was depressurizing, and the people and debris were like fine dust caught in the wind. Klaxons tried and failed to wail over the din. The ship reached the superstructure, crashing through and folding in on itself. The entire station shook violently, and the deck rushed
up to greet me.
“They’re getting pushy.”
“What do you expect from imperials? Where do they want to take him? Their embassy?”
“I assume.”
“Are they from the ship? The big one?”
“I’m not sure. I think so.”
“Don’t you think they’re acting strange? Why’d they take the other ones right away, but leave this one? Why the delay? Did they say anything?”
“Look, is he cleared to leave or not?”
“He’ll be fine. Will the imperials pay?”
“They already have. Why do you want to hang on to this guy?”
“Because there’s something funny going on here.”
“You know better than to try to understand these people.”
“It has to mean something that they’d refuse to take him, then come back banging on the door.”
“Yes—exactly. They’re banging on the door. We’re talking about the people that went to war with the Commonwealth and won. We are not going to be divas here.”
“Yes, we are. Call station security, find out where we stand legally. We can buy time by negotiating.”
“It doesn’t matter. Imperials are asking us for a favor, and we don’t want to try to negotiate with them. That never ends well.”
“I want to help them out. I just want to know what’s going on first, that’s all.”
It sounded like their backs were to me. I opened my eyes. This was a private medical room, common galactic design. From what I’d just heard, I was probably on Payne Station, and by the sound of things, at the Free Trade embassy’s infirmary.
There was nothing restricting my movement, nothing binding me to the bed. I wasn’t at my best, but compared to my most recent memories, I felt pretty good. I could move without shaking, but my body was covered in bruises. We hadn’t been strapped in, or secured at all when the satellite launched. I was lucky to have survived it.
I looked at the two men, who were still arguing.
I had questions, but there was no time for them. One of the men stalked out of the room, and the door hissed shut behind him. I wouldn’t get a better chance.
I slipped out of bed, ignoring my light-headedness, and locked an arm around the man’s neck. He barely struggled at all. I lowered his unconscious body to the floor, and got him out of his medical coveralls.
Once dressed, I slipped into the corridor.
Compared to a Ganraen colony ship, a Free Trade embassy couldn’t be difficult to navigate. Good, solid gravity. Clean tile floor. Art on the walls. Very nice.
I straightened up, checking myself for visible injuries. Nothing too attention-grabbing. They’d taken good care of me.
No one looked at me twice as I passed. Maybe I could credit that to my increasingly impressive stubble.
I emerged on a second-level walkway overlooking the domed lobby. Outside, I could see other domes, and the wheels and cylinders of the station.
People milled about below, but my gaze fell on the six masked figures in white.
Evagardians; here for me. Their leader was in a heated argument with an embassy representative. I looked at their uniforms. A colonel, probably a representative from the Julian. And there were both Evagardian Intelligence and Imperial Security markings on display.
I hadn’t woken up a moment too soon.
I stepped into a lift, giving the imperials a wide berth, and left the embassy as an alarm went up behind me. That had been quick.
I walked through the plaza, taking every turn that presented itself, and tried to figure out where I was in relation to the harbor.
Despite it all, I found myself appreciating civilization. After a dead planet and empty ships, the close quarters, bright lights, and crowded spaces of Payne Station were more than welcome.
That surprised me. It was a testament to just how much I hadn’t liked that strange black planet—because it wasn’t so long ago that I’d thought that I could live a long and not especially happy life if I never set foot on another station.
I passed a towering memorial to the Ganraen capital station. They’d sure thrown that together quickly. There were people laying wreaths at it. I set my jaw and walked past it, shutting it out. I didn’t have time to be sentimental.
I was in a bad situation, and I had to think.
We must have been picked up, and to end up at the Free Trade embassy for ransom, it could’ve been anyone from pirates to explorers. Merchants, traders. Anybody.
The embassy would gladly buy us so that they could ransom us in turn to Evagard. It sounded as if the Empire had immediately reclaimed the three trainees and, after working out who I was, come back for me. I hoped they’d gotten to the trainees in time to save Nils and Salmagard, but I’d probably never know.
It was a small miracle that they hadn’t recognized me—but why would they? No one was looking for a man who everyone thought was dead.
The satellite plan had worked. I shook my head in wonder at that. Even dying, Nils had been able to—using Deilani’s hands, no less—engineer a solution that kept us alive. Say what you want about Evagard—imperials deliver. But I’d already known that, long before I ever met Ensign Nils.
I kept walking, but I couldn’t fail to see the people staring at the monument. It was a scale representation of the Ganraen royal residence, an elaborate tower that had stood at the center of the Ganraen capital station dome. I knew it well.
The fact that they hadn’t ransomed me from the beginning meant that it was simply inconceivable to certain people that I might still be alive.
And I was alive only because of Deilani.
Not only had she not left without us, but she’d come back for the private and me despite her dislike, and at considerable personal risk. If she’d survived the stasis, she had a very bright future ahead of her.
Payne Station was relatively unfamiliar to me, but I didn’t want to stop moving long enough to consult a map. Imperial Security and Evagardian Intelligence would both be on the lookout for that.
Leaving the monument behind, I made my way through a high-ceilinged plaza to a wide corridor with trendy cafés on one side, and a breathtaking view of open space on the other. I paused and leaned on the railing, enjoying the bright lights and the view. It was refreshingly warm. It was good to hear all these human voices.
I couldn’t look at a map, but I could look out the window without attracting attention. Even people who lived on stations sometimes took a moment to admire things this way.
I was just a medical tech taking a break.
There was the Julian. It was nearly the size of the colony ship. I’d never seen such a magnificent vessel in my life, and I had a feeling I never would again. The Empress’ flagship was worthy of the name, less a ship than a small battle station that could go wherever it liked.
That was the main Evagardian portion of the station; the commercial harbor would be at the other end. I needed to go down a few decks and find a speed lift—but they’d be watching those.
So I’d have to take down a maintenance worker and use his mobile to navigate to the docks. Those would be watched too, but I’d think of something.
This wasn’t my first time.
I sighed. The events on the surface of the planet felt light-years and ages away, but the memories were only minutes old. The Free Trade people had kept me asleep while they treated me. I felt rested, and I was probably well on my way to being cured, too—but I was still exhausted.
This was all just one long, long day. I closed my eyes to one crisis and opened them to a new one. It wouldn’t be over when I got off this station. My work wasn’t finished.
A masked figure in white leaned on the railing beside me, and I tensed. It was a tall female imperial officer. The mask was angled toward me. I saw the rank insignias, and my heart sank.
“Good
to see you up and about, Lieutenant.”
“And you, Admiral.”
Had Deilani anticipated this, and staked out the embassy? Of course she had. Her officer’s sidearm was pointed at me discreetly.
“How are the others?”
“Full recoveries expected. They’ll recuperate aboard the Julian. The ensign needs repairs to his nervous system, and the private is no longer dead. She’ll need some new skin.”
“It’s never a bad thing to have an excuse to get a little personal augmentation on the Empire’s tab.”
“Her skin was good to begin with. I think they make sure of that. People like her aren’t supposed to have any artificial improvements. She’ll be devastated. The poor lamb.”
“You’re all heart. I imagine they’ll both be all right. I’m sure everyone’s very impressed with the three of you.”
“Of course they are. We’ve been commended for our management of the crisis and daring escape, which apparently showed true Evagardian spirit and fortitude.”
“Blowing everything up?”
“That, or our complete disregard for the preservation of Ganraen colonial property.”
I smiled. Deilani was doing the same on the other side of her mask.
“I didn’t figure it out completely until after I’d been debriefed,” she said, sounding faintly annoyed. “So Tremma really was a spy. Running some kind of false-flag op. What was he going to do?” she asked. “Drop the cargo on some regulated station to make it look like someone was trading with the wrong people?”
“Probably. Then the armada would have an excuse to step in. It’s a good way to get footholds in Free Trade space.”
“That’s illegal,” she said darkly.
“That’s intelligence,” I told her frankly. “The Ganraens don’t even pretend to try to make it look legit. That’s how all this started. But I don’t know what Tremma’s orders were. He could’ve been selling that stuff to help war refugees for all we know.”
“I should’ve figured you out sooner.”