Derelict: Destruction (Derelict Saga Book 3)

by Paul E. Cooley

  But the noose wasn’t pulled taut yet. One km to go. He’d have to start slowing the SV-52 soon, or he’d come in way too hot. If he fired the thrusters at the last second, the g-force shock would be extreme. It might even break the mag-lock with the skiff or send Wendt and Murdock flying off the hull. Taulbee’s fingers tightened on the controls.

  “Sir?” Copenhaver said. “They’re getting closer.”

  700 meters.

  “Okay, marines,” he said, “we’re going to take a few twists and turns. Hold tight.”

  He didn’t wait for a reply. Taulbee hit the port thrusters and the SV-52 immediately began sliding horizontally while it continued forward. A touch of the belly thrusters, and they began to rise in relation to the ship. The creatures, if they wanted to keep their circling formation, would have to adjust or risk running right into the support craft. If not for the two marines moored to the hull, he’d invite the bastards to try it. The ‘52 had survived multiple starfish attacks. He’d no doubt it would survive a tussle with these things too.

  600 meters and he was off course. Instead of approaching the cargo bay, he was now in position to fly over the ship, ride its spine, and head back toward Mira. Copenhaver had updated his HUD with a new diagram of the creatures’ flight path. They had adjusted all right.

  The seven hostiles had shuffled their orbits, changed their directions and attitude, but they’d also tightened the noose. Cursing, Taulbee hit the top jets with a full burn and the SV-52 didn’t so much as descend as plummet. S&R Black’s belly and starboard-side came back into view. He had more than enough fuel to keep dancing away from them with micro-burns, but not enough to slow down if he did. He could manage maybe three more full burns before he exhausted everything but attitude control. The added mass of both the skiff and the beacon were eating fuel faster than he liked.

  Of all the goddamned times to lose a skiff, he thought. And of all the times to be towing. Yup. There was definitely a trip to the brig in his future. When he saw Colonel Heyes again, he’d bust that pompous fucker right in the chops. He grinned. It would be worth it.

  300 meters. Taulbee fired a short burn from the bow and the SV-52’s speed dropped by 10m/s. His HUD updated at once. The creatures were coming close, their orbits taking them a little less than 10 meters from the craft’s hull. He didn’t know if they wanted the beacon, the skiff, or just liked the idea of a moving morsel, but Copenhaver was right. They were big.

  Another flew past the SV-52 just in front of the bow. The creature was at least as large as the support craft itself. If something that big caught one of his marines, it could easily tear them limb from limb before they could even punch through its carapace.

  “Copenhaver?”

  “Aye, sir. I’ll have a shot next time they come around.”

  “Take it,” he said. She replied, but he barely heard. He activated another thruster burn and dropped their speed to 20m/s. S&R Black loomed larger in the cam view. He could no longer see Mira behind her, but now he could see the creatures for what they were.

  Their orbits were less than seven meters from the ‘52 and when one passed before him, he had less than a second to make out what it was. He wished he hadn’t seen it at all.

  The thing was little more than a flying wing, its rugose carapace a horror of bumps that might have been dead eyes or other sensory organs. Short, stubby appendages grew from its sides, each tip ending in something that looked like a mouth filled with serrated teeth. Two larger limbs, more like tentacles than arms, reached forward before moving backward like oars in a canoe. He caught sight of particles or debris puffing out into space. Along its spine, a thin, two-meter-long sail rippled as if in a wind. Taulbee had time to feel his balls turn to ice before the cannon fired.

  The first flechette detonated less than two meters above the SV-52’s canopy. The tritium round smashed into the creature’s mid-section and one of its stubby limbs disappeared in a cloud of crumb-like debris. The thing immediately broke from its orbit.

  “Not so fucking close!” Wendt screamed.

  Copenhaver didn’t reply, but fired another round after it. Taulbee refocused on his flight path, but couldn’t ignore the bright flash on the port-side. He didn’t hear the rattle of alien shell striking the hull. 10m/s. Something clipped the top of the hull followed immediately by another strike to the belly.

  “Sir!” Wendt yelled. “They’re going after the skiff!”

  The SV-52 shuddered as something smashed into the aft and Taulbee’s bones jolted from the impact. The ‘52’s nose rose as its tail dropped, anchored by the skiff. Taulbee fired the thrusters in rapid succession to try and maintain his heading, but every time he managed to straighten out, another creature attacked.

  Murdock screamed into the mic. The SV-52 tried to roll and Taulbee leveled the craft again with another round of thruster bursts. His HUD lit up with collision warnings, radiation warnings, and low fuel warnings. “Fuck you,” he snarled. “You want it? Take it!” He punched the tow release.

  The SV-52 shivered as the mag-lock mooring the skiff to the support vehicle’s aft let go. The skiff dropped away at once. He glanced at the rear cam, watching in fascination as the creatures, nearly as large as the skiff itself, collapsed into a ball around the damaged, irradiated slab of Atmo-steel.

  With S&R Black a little more than 50 meters away, he had to slow down and fast. He hit another burn from the bow. 5m/s. Another fuel warning flashed. “Taulbee to Dunn. Almost there, and I’m damned near out of fuel.”

  “Copy,” Dunn said. “We’re getting the sled ready now.”

  The sled, Taulbee thought. We’re going to be sitting ducks while they get the damned thing set up.

  “Copenhaver?”

  “Aye, sir?”

  He grinned at the manic excitement in her voice. The woman had some bloodlust in her. He hoped she could keep it going. “We’re going to have to provide some cover fire. Get ready.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Wendt? Murdock? Status?”

  “Here and alive, sir,” Wendt said.

  “Me too,” Murdock said. “But I took a shard to my leg. Punctured the rad suit, but the second layer sutured it closed.”

  “Good,” Taulbee said. “Hang on. We’re almost there.”

  The cargo bay doors opened and flooded the area with bright light. Two backlit figures appeared. Kalimura and Carb were floating the sled out of the bay. He hoped like hell they had time to get the beacon into it. He didn’t think they’d have another chance.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Kali stood in the cargo bay, her nerves itching for some action despite the pain in her chest. It was getting better in a hurry, but her breath was still difficult to catch. Nobel had cut the grav-plate power and the sled, the jerry-rigged contraption the engineer had hurriedly fabricated, floated a few centimeters above the deck.

  “Ready, Carb?” Kali asked.

  “Aye, Boss. Let’s do this.”

  The cargo bay doors opened, excess atmosphere streaming out of the bay in a rush, carrying particles of Atmo-steel and fabrication detritus with it. The powerful lights lanced through the dark rectangle of space and Kali caught a glimpse of the approaching SV-52. Taulbee was bringing the craft in too fast.

  “He’s going to hit!” Carb yelled.

  Kali opened her mouth to reply when a yellow and orange flare erupted from the bow. The SV-52’s speed disappeared in an instant, leaving it floating before them like a ghost.

  “Damn, he’s good,” Kali muttered. She pulled on her tether to make sure it was attached. The resistance felt reassuring. She took in a deep breath. “Go,” she said in an exhale.

  The two marines used their suit thrusters to pull the sled out of the cargo bay. It took longer than she liked, but 10 seconds later, they were clear and floating above the SV-52. Wendt and Murdock had already cut their mag-locks and drifted aft.

  “Hey, Kalimura!” Wendt said. “We’ll get it out of the net and bring it to you.”

/>   “Now that’s service,” Carb said.

  Kali ignored the chatter and looked aft. A little more than 90 meters behind them, a cluster of horrible-looking things had wrapped themselves into a misshapen ball. They pulsed with alien energy, their limbs occasionally flicking outward and slowly traveling back in. The lifeforms looked much more terrifying than anything they’d seen aboard Mira. And here they were, floating alongside the sled, rifles still clamped to their backs. If those things decided to attack, they’d only have a second or two to get loose from the sled and get a shot off. Maybe. More than likely, she thought, we’ll just get eaten.

  Wendt and Murdock had reached the net and used their rad-suits’ thrusters to stay within a meter of the Atmo-steel fiber cables surrounding the object. Taulbee opened the net, the cables spreading apart like a blossoming flower. The beacon, looking as strangely alien as it had in the images captured from Mira, floated away from them at less than half a meter per second.

  Wendt and Murdock’s suit thrusters fired and the two marines mag-locked themselves to the device before it could get further away. “Okay, Corporal,” Wendt said. “Got it.”

  “Good,” she said. “Come to us and we’ll come to you.”

  “Affirmative,” Wendt said.

  “Let’s go, Carb,” she said. They activated their thrusters in sequence to bring the sled below the SV-52 and toward the beacon. Wendt and Murdock in turn used their own thrusters to pull the beacon toward S&R Black and the sled. Kali kept her eyes on the beacon and the two non-rates, but she had to fight to keep her concentration and focus. The creatures wrapped around the dead skiff could move at any time and in any direction. While trying to perform this awkward docking mission, they’d have no time at all to prepare for an attack. And if the beacon decided to pulse? Well, she didn’t want to think about that. There’d be nothing for it. They’d all be flash-fried before they even realized what was going on. She just hoped the void was more kind.

  Each passing second lasted an eternity as she waited for the attack to come. By the time she and Carb rendezvoused with Wendt and Murdock, her jumpsuit clung to her body with sweaty dampness. When they were one meter away, Kali and her squad-mate halted their approach. Wendt and Murdock, awkwardly mag-locked to the polyhedron, had difficulty in stabilizing the object before they crashed into the sled. At the last second before impact, Wendt fired his suit thrusters and managed to give it just enough lift for the beacon to hover above the sled’s surface.

  “Void, that was close,” Wendt said.

  Murdock laughed wildly. “Corporal? Are you done trying to kill me today?”

  Kali smiled. “Day’s not over yet. Let’s mag-lock this thing to the sled and get it into Black’s tow harness. Then we can get the fuck out of here.”

  “Aye, Boss,” Wendt said. Murdock detached from the beacon and Wendt slowly dragged it down to the divot in the sled’s thick Atmo-steel. Her gloves shuddered when the alien thing settled into its cradle. “Got it,” Wendt said. He mag-locked his feet and attached the heavy Atmo-steel restraint cables. “Think I’m done, Corporal.”

  “Kalimura to Nobel.”

  “Go.”

  Kali tried to keep the excitement down in her voice but failed miserably. “Beacon’s in the cradle. Do you have a green light?”

  “Aye, Corporal,” Nobel said. “You’re good to go.”

  “Acknowledged, sir.” She switched to the squad channel and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Lieutenant Taulbee? Carb and I are ready to take the sled to the harness.”

  “Copy,” Taulbee said. “Wendt and Murdock? Climb back on board so we can provide support.”

  Wendt and Murdock pulled themselves along the tethers attached to the SV-52 and mag-locked to the hull. Using their attitude thrusters, Kali and Carb pulled the sled toward S&R Black’s aft and the series of cables jutting down from the ship’s belly.

  “Corporal? On your 9 o’clock,” Taulbee said.

  “Acknowledged.” Her HUD pulsed twice with red and she cursed.

  “Hey, Boss?” Carb asked on the squad channel. “You getting rad alerts?”

  “Yeah,” Kali said. “A little faster maybe?”

  The pair executed a parallel burn and reached the tail much faster than was safe. But she survived that goddamned haunted hulk of metal out there and she sure as shit wasn’t going to get vaporized by this fucking thing when they almost had it out of here. A grim smile lit her lips. Plus, I have to live long enough to kick Dickerson in the ass for disobeying an order.

  With Taulbee providing cover and bathing the net of thick cabling with the ‘52’s bright lights, it took little time to move the beacon into position.

  “Shit,” Carb said.

  “What?”

  “The beacon,” she said. “If it blows, we don’t want it pointed at the damned ship.”

  “Void wept,” Kalimura said. “Look for a discolored side.” They spun the beacon until they found what they thought was the beacon’s “barrel.” But how would they know? The thing had been out in space for void knew how many millennia. It could have been scarred at any time along its journey. “Okay,” she said. “We got it pointed out.”

  “You sure?” Carb asked, her voice nearly trembling.

  “As sure as I can be.”

  As soon as they had it inside the net opening, they used their attitude thrusters to drift away from the net and S&R Black’s aft. Once they were clear, Nobel activated the net.

  The flexible nannie cables form-fitted around the sled tight enough to hold it in place while the ship performed acceleration burns. Kali had seen the nets before, and even trained with them once or twice, but this was the first time she’d seen one used for long-distance flights. They were nearly an AU from Pluto and if they wanted to intercept Dickerson along the way, Black would definitely have to burn hot.

  “Nobel to Kalimura. I’ve got green. Get back aboard the ship. Taulbee?”

  “Aye. I’ll cover them until we get the squad back inside.”

  “Copy,” Kalimura said. “Let’s go, Carb.”

  They thrusted toward the starboard-side. Floating beneath the ship’s belly, she made out scars and nicks in the Atmo-steel. She idly wondered how many were from this mission, and how many were the result of decades of service. “Almost there,” she said. Five meters. Four. Then her eyes caught the sight of silvery liquid glazed across the final starboard-side hull plate. The starfish had been here.

  “Kalimura to Taulbee.”

  “Go ahead, Corporal.”

  She and Carb had already popped out from beneath ship and halted less than a meter from the cargo bay lip. “Sir, I think one of our starfish friends has been here.”

  “Found that silvery shit?”

  “Aye, sir,” Kali said.

  “Acknowledged,” Taulbee said. “Wendt? Murdock? Triple-time. Get in the cargo bay. Now!”

  Kali and Carb mag-handed their way into the cargo bay just as Wendt and Murdock thrusted inside. When the pair of marines neared the port-side bulkhead, the two men activated their fore thrusters and brought themselves to a reduced speed before colliding with the far bulkhead.

  “Arm yourselves!” Kali yelled and pulled the rifle from her back. Carb did the same. Wendt recovered before Murdock, flipping in the z-g and mag-locking to the bulkhead with a single foot, leaving his hands free to grip and aim his rifle. Murdock tried to follow his example, but ended up having to push himself to the floor before fumbling for his weapon. The four marines stared at the darkness beyond the cargo bay door, rifles primed with tritium rounds. The SV-52 hung in space a few meters away, the cannon swinging to cover the ship’s starboard belly.

  “Copenhaver?” Taulbee called out.

  “No contacts, sir,” she said.

  What you couldn’t see wasn’t necessarily to be feared, but it certainly made it difficult to focus on anything else. When you felt an ambush coming and knew a hostile was just around the corner, all of your attention honed in on the known or perceived thre
at rather than a larger one that could be your undoing.

  Kali brought up the cam feeds for the SV-52 and quickly switched between the aft, port, and bow views before checking the overhead and keel. When she reached the keel cam, her breath hitched. Several large shapes, all but hidden in the ship’s shadow, stealthily approached the SV-52.

  “Break break break!” Kali yelled.

  The SV-52 took no more than a second before it shot forward from its present position and left the cargo bay’s rectangular window into space. The moment it disappeared from view, she fired the first flechette.

  The round flew from the cargo bay and detonated a bare five meters from the ship’s hull, sending tritium flechettes into the first of the starfish. Three of its many arms exploded into black crumbs of carapace and alien innards. An arm reached the cargo bay’s lip as one of the creatures attempted to enter the bay. Kali didn’t have to say a word. Four rifles fired and four flechette rounds struck the creature just as it pulled itself in.

  The force of the flechettes knocked its split and shattered remains back into space. Kali moved forward, Carb on her six and to her left, the pair confidently mag-walking to the lip.

  “How many?” Carb asked.

  “I saw six,” Kali said. “That’s two down.”

  “Corporal!” Copenhaver yelled. “One kill, another injured and moving off.”

  “Where are the last two, Private?”

  After a slight pause, Copenhaver groaned into the mic. “I’ve lost them, Corporal.”

  “Kalimura?” Taulbee called out. “Any sign?”

  She studied the shadowy Kuiper Belt, looking for anything moving in relatively close proximity. Nothing. Far off in the distance, she could see the shapes of pinecone hordes, starfish, and whatever those new creatures were, but there was nothing she could find near them. “No, sir. They may have retreated to the other side of the ship.”