Derelict: Destruction (Derelict Saga Book 3)

by Paul E. Cooley

  The explosion that had ripped through the engineering section had collapsed decks, superstructure supports, kilometers and kilometers of cabling, and damned near anything else with which a ship was built. The hull and deck plates looked as though they’d been shattered by a god-like hammer after being frozen with liquid nitrogen, yet the structure was somehow holding together in a semblance of stability.

  “Void,” Nobel breathed aloud.

  “You see it?” Dunn asked.

  “Aye, sir. So we need something to clear the area of debris?”

  “Yes,” Dunn said. “But we have a larger problem once the debris is cleared.”

  “And what’s that, sir?” he asked with a sinking feeling.

  Another image popped into his block queue. He brought it up and stared in horrified fascination. What the first picture hadn’t shown with its filters were the scores and scores of alien limbs and bodies hanging off of or hiding behind the wreckage. He shivered at the memory of the huge starfish-like thing that had attacked him.

  “Um,” Nobel stuttered, “I, um, don’t know how to get rid of those.”

  “No,” Dunn said. “You don’t. But I think the Trio does. Those new munitions we have might make them move. I don’t know where they’ll go, or if they’ll just disappear, but we’re going to try it. Once they’re out of the way, we need something large and nasty to clear away the detritus.”

  Nobel slowly grinned. “You need a battering ram.”

  Dunn’s disembodied voice chuckled over the block connection. “I knew there was a reason I keep you around. That sounds like what we need, all right.”

  “I should have enough materials. Give me fifteen minutes, sir.”

  “Fifteen minutes. Dunn, out.”

  Nobel terminated the block connection. Gunny glanced at him with a smirk. He winked at the sergeant before clapping his hands and snapping his fingers at the two non-rates. “Wendt? Murdock? How would you like to help me build something nasty?”

  The two marines raised their eyebrows in unison. Nobel’s grin widened.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Fucking insane, Taulbee thought first. The captain has lost his mind, was the second thought. Yet the more he considered the plan, the less insane it seemed. Well, less insane for this void-damned mission anyway. The crew of S&R Black had already undertaken several crazy plans, so why should this be any different?

  He and Copenhaver continued floating a little more than a hundred meters from the aft and fifty meters above it. From this vantage point, he could see less than a 1/4 of the Atmo-steel latticework and the glowing, pulsing colors entrenched amidst the wreckage. Taulbee didn’t mind the lack of a clear sightline. He was just damned happy they were out of harm’s way if the beacon decided to let loose another EMR blast.

  “Dunn to Taulbee.”

  “Here, sir. Go ahead.”

  Dunn sounded pleased with himself. Taulbee grinned. That meant something interesting was about to happen.

  “Nobel is building something special for you. Gunny and his squad will bring it to you in about ten minutes or so. Until then, we need you to stand sentry and take out anything that threatens the ship. Over.”

  “Acknowledged, sir,” Taulbee said.

  “Something special?” Copenhaver asked. “What does that mean, sir?”

  Taulbee chuckled. “We’ll find out soon enough, Private. In the meantime, what do the scans say?”

  She paused for a moment before replying. “This end of Mira appears to have attracted the majority of the exo-solar lifeforms, sir,” she said. “Those clusters we flew over seem to be migrating in this direction, but they’re doing so without taking flight.”

  “Without taking flight?” Taulbee asked. “Explain?”

  He could hear her shrug. “They either have a method of propulsion we haven’t seen before, or they’re hugging the hull as they move aft.”

  Method of propulsion other than jetting. That didn’t sound good. If they were magnetic or generated a magnetic field, it made sense they could travel while staying just a few centimeters above the hull plates. But what would they do when all the creatures congregated in the aft section? Dunn obviously had a plan to get inside Mira and to the beacon, but he doubted the plan would work if they had thousands of pinecones and starfish suddenly appear to guard it.

  Guard it. That was a strange thought. Would they protect the beacon? Were they intelligent enough to know what it was? That idea gave him the shivers. The starfish were certainly intelligent enough to take evasive actions and even use debris as projectiles, but were they sentient? Void, he hoped not.

  They continued hovering in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Copenhaver continued scanning using the cannon cams while he flipped back and forth across the SV-52’s stationary ones. The area they could see inside Mira didn’t appear to have changed. No creature activity beyond the damaged aft section. But outside?

  With each passing moment, another swarm of pinecones moved in closer to the aft. Rather than keeping to themselves, the creatures appeared to be stacked on one another, their former group membership consumed by the larger population. He didn’t even want to guess how many were down there now or how thick the bed of pinecones had become. The good news was they didn’t seem interested in entering Mira, but that might not last for long.

  “Taulbee,” Dunn said over the comms.

  He flinched at the sound as it dragged him from his thoughts. “Aye, sir?”

  “We’re ready. Gunny’s squad will be leaving the cargo bay in a moment. Keep an eye on them and provide cover.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  He rotated the SV-52 and pointed its nose at S&R Black’s port-side. The cargo bay door slid aside, revealing a large rectangle of white light. Backlit by the floods, the skiff looked strange. Instead of a meter tall slab of Atmo-steel, the skiff looked as though it had grown a lump beneath it. After the skiff traveled a few dozen meters from the ship, the lump became more well-defined. Nobel had apparently crafted something new and altogether ugly for this cluster fuck.

  “Sir?” Taulbee asked. “Exactly what is attached to the skiff?”

  “You’re going to love it,” Dunn said. “We’re going to clear some of the wreckage for you and Gunny. Once the area is clear, you can provide cover fire and Gunny can get the beacon.”

  Taulbee grinned. “So that’s a missile?”

  Dunn chuckled. “More like a battering ram.”

  “Very good, sir,” Taulbee said.

  Copenhaver cleared her throat. “Battering ram, sir?”

  “Yeah, Private. I guess Nobel printed a big blob of Atmo and attached a couple of rockets to it. Fire and forget.”

  “Aye, sir,” Copenhaver said. “But how are we going to clear the creatures?”

  Taulbee thought for a moment. “I guess it’ll be time to test one of the Trio’s little gifts.”

  “More flechettes?” she asked.

  “No, Private. Something with a little more oomph.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Gunny slowly increased his speed and hit the attitude thrusters. The skiff, belly swollen with its unmanned payload, didn’t respond as easily as it normally did. He didn’t know how much mass the makeshift battering ram had, but it was enough to throw off the maneuvering characteristics. He hoped like hell they would be rid of the thing before he had to take evasive action of any kind, or getting his squad out alive was going to be even more interesting than usual. Well, more terrifying, he told himself. Because nothing about this mission has been “usual.”

  Wendt sat in the cannon mount with Murdock in the rear, the young marine’s flechette rifle raised and ready to fire. Before mounting up, he’d told Murdock to shoot anything that moved, so long as it wasn’t human, wasn’t the skiff, and wasn’t the SV-52. The private, his face visible before lowering his visor, had looked pale and unsure. Gunny didn’t blame him, but he yelled at the kid anyway. The last thing he needed right now was for the young marine to fre
eze up.

  At least Wendt was cold and cool. The LCpl had turned from the fuckup in the company to a marine Gunny was proud to have fighting by his side. Apparently, wonders never did cease. Gunny would have liked to have had at least two more marines in his squad, but there weren’t any left. Kalimura’s squad of four was still missing, Lyke and Niro were dead, and Copenhaver was riding shotgun with Taulbee. All that remained on the ship was Nobel, Oakes, and the captain.

  “If we fail, we’re all fucked,” Gunny said to himself. That was no lie. The captain was taking a hell of a risk. If the beacon pulsed at the wrong time, both Gunny’s squad and Taulbee’s SV-52 would be annihilated in an eruption of radiation. “Well, at least it will be quick,” Gunny thought with a grim smile.

  Less than fifty meters away, the SV-52 floated above them like a wraith. “Gunny to Taulbee.”

  “Go ahead, Gunny.”

  “Sir, we’re going to move into position below you and on Mira’s starboard-side. Black said we should aim for that area to maximize penetration. Lieutenant Nobel made us a little battering ram. It should reach 100m/s before striking the wreckage. And then? Boom. If that doesn’t clear enough of the wreckage for the skiff to get through, we have bigger problems.”

  “Aye, Gunny,” Taulbee said. “I’ll provide cover when you move into position.”

  “Aye, sir. Appreciate the assistance.”

  Taulbee laughed. “Just make sure that thing doesn’t come back at us.”

  “No worries on that, sir,” Gunny said. “Nobel says his little toy will keep going until something stops it or we detonate it.”

  “Acknowledged,” Taulbee said. “Just let me know when you’re going to launch it.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Out,” Taulbee said.

  Gunny hissed a sigh and continued maneuvering the skiff. As the damaged aft section drifted into his sight line, he saw the pulsing lights inside the wreckage. He’d seen them on the feeds, but watching them through his own eyes was a completely different experience. Less than 200 meters from him, exo-solar lifeforms blinked and winked like the beating of a thousand alien hearts.

  “Gunny?” Wendt said over the comms.

  “What is it, Wendt? I’m busy.”

  “Aye, Gunny. But there on the port-side. Are those things moving closer to us?”

  He flicked his eyes to the cannon cam and froze. Wendt was right. Shapes moved in the shadows on the aft’s port-side. Those things seemed to be making their way out of the wreckage and toward them. “Can’t anything go according to plan?” Gunny asked no one. He cursed as he connected to Taulbee. “Sir? You see them on the port-side?”

  “Aye, Gunny,” Taulbee said. “Copenhaver spotted them too.”

  “You have a better eye than Wendt?”

  “We do,” Taulbee said. “Copenhaver says they look like the starfish things, but they’re moving differently. Should reach your firing range in about ten seconds. They’ll hit you in less than thirty.”

  “Aye, sir.” Gunny checked his HUD. Black had plotted the perfect trajectory for the battering ram. All he needed was another fifteen seconds at present speed. “Fuck this,” Gunny said and hit the thrusters. “Hang on, marines.” The skiff slid sideways as it continued forward. Another burst and their forward momentum increased to 15m/s. Gunny waited until they were nearly to the launch point before activating the starboard-side thrusters at full. Their sideways momentum quickly slowed and the skiff was suddenly pointed straight at the target. Less than fifty meters separated them from the beginnings of the aft wreckage. This was closer than he wanted to be, or Black had recommended, but it was the best he could do.

  “Sir? I’m firing the ram.”

  “Acknowledged. Fire at will.”

  “Wendt?” Gunny said with a grimace. “Get those fucking cannons on the bogies and start firing.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Gunny said a prayer to the void, cut the magnetics holding the ram, and activated the makeshift weapon. The skiff shuddered as a small puff of gas sent the ram a few meters below the skiff before its engines fired. “Ram away! Taking evasive action.”

  He punched the forward thrusters and the skiff shot backward away from Mira’s aft at 5m/s just as the flechette cannon began belching projectiles. He kept his eyes focused on the forward cam feeds, not daring to glance at the incoming creatures. The ram’s tiny engines glowed like stars as the thick Atmo-steel slab shot through the darkness separating them from the aft section’s latticework of wrecked and damaged deck plates.

  “Taulbee? We’re clear,” Gunny said.

  “The hell you are!” Taulbee yelled. Gunny flicked his eyes to the port-side cam. Dozens of shadows streaked toward the skiff. He gripped the throttle and prepared for impact.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  While she watched and correlated data from both the skiff and the SV-52’s cam feeds, Black also kept a data stream open with the flying slab of metal hurtling into Mira’s fractured interior. The omnidirectional cams Nobel had installed produced a fisheye lens view covering nearly 180° of a sphere. What Black saw amazed her.

  The pulsing lights came into definition and she finally realized what they were. If a sentient AI could feel excitement, Black would have been vibrating with adrenaline. The creatures responsible for the pulsing light lay in cocoons of black mesh and grey tendrils. The medium was hardly organic, at least not in terrestrial terms, but certainly appeared to serve the same function as a spider’s web or that of a silkworm. These nests, if that was the correct term, dangled from Atmo-steel struts, beams, and plas-steel mesh. The creatures had used Mira’s remains as a scaffold for their alien works of art.

  The ram continued driving forward, its canted, beveled bow slamming through damaged and distressed panels, beams, tangled cables, and broken bulkheads. The nest of shadows disappeared the further the ram traveled inward. At the far end, a new light appeared. A kaleidoscope of colors revolving and swirling like a spiral galaxy danced at the aft section’s foredecks. For an instant, the ram’s floods illuminated the source of the colors. Black found herself staring at the beacon.

  The cylinder lay on its side, one end pointed toward the wrecked aft section. As the ram approached within 10 meters, the cylinder’s light dimmed and went out. The ram flew past the beacon and crashed into the remaining bulkheads separating the engineering section from the engine and reactor compartments before the cam feed finally winked out of existence.

  Black replayed the footage at high speed several times, her formidable computing power focused on analyzing each frame and gathering information that could help the marines retrieve the cylinder. As Black accomplished this task, she kept flicking through the SV-52 and skiff feeds, watching the battle outside Mira’s aft. The exo-solar lifeforms were not only larger than before, but were more aggressive, and their numbers were staggering, with dozens more moving from the midships to the aft.

  Something had alerted the creatures to the marines’ approach. Or maybe it was the ram that had attracted the others. Regardless, the entire company was in danger. Black took control of the starboard-side cannon. She couldn’t wait to clear it with Dunn. Not if she wanted her charges to survive.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Gunny’s HUD ammo sensor counted down in a hurry. Wendt was aiming before pulling the trigger, but it seemed as though every second another three-round burst erupted. At this rate, they would run out of the new flechette ammo in another minute.

  “Switch to explosive rounds,” Gunny said, doing his best to keep his voice calm.

  Wendt replied with a grunt. Murdock occasionally yelped through the comms as he fired and missed again and again.

  “Take your damned time, Murdock! Make them count!”

  “Aye,” he said in a breathless voice.

  Gunny watched the battle through the skiff’s port-side cam feed. He had to get them pointed away from Mira and gain some distance, and he had to do it quick. A flick of his eyes showed more shadows streaming o
ut of Mira’s aft. “Prepare for evasive action,” he growled into the mic. He didn’t bother waiting for a response.

  A second later, the forward thrusters fired and shot compressed nitrogen from the tanks. The skiff flew backward from Mira at 7m/s, the distance increasing with every second. Starfish and pinecones appeared beyond the aft’s shadows. Gunny gritted his teeth and rotated the skiff with a quick fire from the maneuvering thrusters. When it pointed back to S&R Black, he stopped the rotation, and fired the rear thrusters. A look at the cam feeds showed dozens of creatures leaving the aft and even more approaching from the top of Mira’s expansive hull.

  “We’re fucked,” he breathed into the comms. The ammo counter stood at 90. Yup. They were fucked.

  *****

  There were too many of them and Taulbee knew it. Copenhaver opened up with the turret, spraying tritium flechettes into the clusters of starfish and pinecones. The rounds detonated when they found their targets, the creatures hit by the fusillade disappeared in showers of black limbs, broken carapaces, and shattered shells. But it wasn’t enough. Not even close.

  At least she was taking slow, careful shots, doing her best to make every round count. The horde of creatures had decided to break up into smaller clusters, making it difficult to target more than a few at a time. Several starfish had moved into a flanking position on the SV-52’s port-side. Copenhaver had to pull her aim off the advancing line to meet the new threat. Cursing, Taulbee activated the flak cannons, spreading explosive flechette rounds in a wide circle around the craft.

  “Taulbee to Dunn.”

  “Dunn here.”