by Dan Worth
‘Our apologies. We do have one request to ask of you however.’
‘Go on,’ said Anna warily.
‘When we board the human vessel, we would be honoured if you would join us.’
As the bulky angular shuttle ferried them from the Profit Margin to the waiting Blessed Nothingness, the Nahabe liaison on board explained to Isaacs and Anna their need for the two of them to accompany the boarding party. The liaison’s sarcophagus was a little smaller than usual and its surface was embellished with a series of swirling designs that caught the dim interior illumination within the crypt-like, windowless interior of the alien vessel.
Anita, meanwhile, had been left on board the Profit Margin, despite her protestations at remaining behind once more. Isaacs had keyed in jump co-ordinates into the ships navi-comp and ordered her to activate the ship’s drive if she needed to take the ship out of danger whilst they were gone.
‘If any of the crew remain entirely human, they will be expecting a hostile boarding party, given the fact that we have just disabled their vessel,’ said the liaison. ‘The sight of a group consisting entirely of aliens will not help the situation. We hope, therefore, that your presence will help to ease matters.’
‘You want a familiar face to come along,’ said Isaacs.
‘Yes. They will be more likely to listen to you, we feel.’
‘Fine, but what if they aren’t entirely human anymore,’ said Anna. ‘Can you guarantee our safety in there?’
‘We will do everything within our power to do so,’ said the alien.
‘That’s not terribly re-assuring,’ Anna replied.
‘We have considerable experience in dealing with the Shapers and their hosts in close-quarter combat. You will be accompanied by a large contingency of our finest crusaders.’
‘Crusaders?’ Anna replied incredulously.
‘I use the word as the closest human equivalent, though perhaps jihadis might be more appropriate. The Order of Dead Suns has awaited many millennia for the return of the Shapers, ready to avenge the memory of those star systems that the enemy ravaged during our last war against them and defend us from their further predations upon us.’
‘We’re uh… honoured,’ said Isaacs.
‘And so you should be,’ replied the liaison. ‘Make no mistake, human friends, holy war is coming. The words of your Speaker have travelled far and wide among the Nahabe. Many of us knew that action was inevitable, nay, desirable. They have reached the ears of our holiest fathers and now they urge the faithful to take up arms. For what task could be more holy than the fight against the ultimate darkness imaginable? Hell is very real my friends. It lies at the heart of this galaxy and its minions may even now infest the very ship that we have captured today.’
‘Wonderful,’ said Isaacs. ‘I’m looking forward to this more and more every minute that goes by.’
‘Here,’ said the liaison. From a panel in its sarcophagus it produced a couple of Commonwealth Army standard issue rail rifles and a bag of ammunition clips. ‘You will need these, I fear.’
It held the weapons out to Isaacs and Anna who took them from the extended manipulator claw, examined them with a critical eye and found them to be in perfect condition.
‘Aim for the head,’ said the liaison.
‘You don’t have to tell me twice,’ Isaacs replied, peering into the firing chamber of his weapon.
‘Good,’ it replied. ‘Because you may only get one chance.’
There was a slight bump.
‘Ah, it seems we have docked with the Blessed Nothingness,’ said the liaison. ‘It is time for you to meet our warriors.’
The docking hatch folded open like origami and revealed the dimly lit interior of a large docking bay within the Nahabe warship. Standing at the foot of the boarding ramp was an assembly of a dozen sarcophagi. Isaacs gaped in amazement. He was familiar with the Nahabe and the differences in their own personal suits of armour that shielded them from the world, but these were a whole different matter entirely. Each warrior was housed within something that more closely resembled a personal hover-tank. Whereas regular Nahabe sarcophagi were roughly the same height and breadth as a standard human, these were over eight feet tall and around four feet in width. Thick slabs of armour plating were bedecked with trophies and symbols of religion and war, some entire panels being carefully embellished with what looked like excerpts of scripture or alien holy icons. Furthermore, each suit was equipped with weapons that differed from warrior to warrior as befitted the fighting style of its wearer. Some suits sported large powerful arms tipped with energised blades, while others were fitted with projectile and energy weapons. A couple of warriors wore suits fitted with only a single massive weapon resembling a collection of organ pipes that jutted from the shoulder position, rendering their appearance clumsy and lopsided. Isaacs assumed them to be support troopers who would hang back and lay down supporting fire whilst the others closed with the enemy.
One of the suited figures left the group and floated towards Isaacs until its richly adorned armoured form towered over him. This Nahabe’s sarcophagus seemed even more richly decorated than the others. Elaborate gilded scrollwork and almost gothic decoration adorned armoured panels that were etched with scenes from the Nahabe religion and mythologized events from their history. On the suit’s left upper panel, armoured forms fought terrible monsters against an apocalyptic backdrop, whilst on the right, victorious Nahabe floated atop a pile of fallen enemies. The figure was armed with a single massive, pistoned blade arm on its right and three independently targetable gun appendages on its left.
Isaacs had the distinct impression that he was about to be addressed by a particularly heavily armed, miniature cathedral.
‘May I present The Lord Protector of the Order of Dead Suns,’ said the liaison. ‘He is our people’s most devout servant and foremost among our holy warriors.’
The massive form loomed over Isaacs and Anna and despite the lack of eyes, seemed to be scrutinising them. Finally, it spoke.
‘You are the one named Isaacs, are you not?’ it rumbled.
This was unusual, thought Isaacs. The Nahabe usually avoided the use of personal names. Such familiarity must signify the deepest respect.
‘My comrades and I have heard tell of you from your Speaker. Your bravery and your skill as a pilot set an example to all who would oppose the Shapers.’
‘Well, ah, thank you,’ Isaacs replied a little awkwardly and tried to suppress a grin as Anna rolled her eyes despairingly. ‘You know I just did what I thought was right at the time and well, I thought the Hidden Hand needed my help.’
He heard Anna snort behind him.
‘Modesty also. A truly brave warrior knows that his deeds speak for him. Caleb Isaacs, it would be an honour if you would join us in this most historic of events. For now our order must join battle against our ancient foe once more after a hiatus of many millennia.’
‘The uh, honour is ours I’m sure,’ Anna interjected. ‘Listen, if there are people aboard that ship who are still in control of their own bodies it’s up to us to deal with them before you guys blow them to pieces. Can we just agree to ask first and then shoot?’
‘Discretion and caution shall be our watchwords, lady,’ the Lord Protector replied. Anna got the distinct impression that had it been human it would have bowed theatrically at this point. ‘As you say, we must endeavour to recover any souls aboard that have not yet been lost, and deal out death and judgement to avenge those that have.’
At some signal the other Nahabe warriors advanced steadily and boarded the shuttle in a stately procession before carefully arranging themselves so that their massive forms stood facing one another in two lines down either side of the shuttle’s cabin. Once they had all boarded, the craft’s docking ramp folded shut once more and the vessel began to move. Though there was no means to see out of the craft, Isaacs and Anna could feel the cold metal decking shifting beneath their feet as they crossed the gulf between the Nah
abe warship and the Casilinum.
After a few moments there was a gentle bump and then a series of whirrs and clicks as the shuttle’s docking point reconfigured itself to mate with the cruiser’s port airlock hatch, on the amidships superstructure. As it did so, the Nahabe made their way aft to the hatch and took up defensive positions around the armoured doors.
Once the link between the two vessels was secured and sealed, the inner airlock doors opened.
‘We shall over-ride the safety mechanisms and open the outer doors,’ rumbled the Lord Protector. ‘It is the only way we can safely enter the vessel in strength and at speed. Sensors report breathable atmosphere inside.’
The outer doors opened, revealing the pitted grey armoured outer door of the human vessel’s airlock. CNV-2134 Casilinum was clearly stencilled on its surface along with a number of instructive symbols. One of the Nahabe approached the door and plunged a complex manipulator arm into the electronic lock mechanism. A series of metallic thuds resonated throughout the ship, then the door slid cleanly aside, admitting a breath of cool air.
The Nahabe, with Cal and Anna in their midst advanced quickly into the dimly lit chamber beyond. The same individual who had opened the last door now worked on the inner door in a similar fashion and also had this one open in moments. The Nahabe then charged into the interior of the Commonwealth vessel and immediately took up combat positions, their array of weapons creating overlapping fields of fire that covered all possible routes of attack. None came.
Isaacs and Anna followed them. The interior of the ship was dark save for a few strips of emergency lighting that filled the scene with a dim red light. The airlock they had just exited lay at a junction of corridors which stretched off to the left and right and straight ahead. There was also two banks of lifts to the other decks that were out of action due to the lack of power. All was silent save for the whirring of the Nahabes’ suits as sensors and gun barrels swept the corridors.
Isaacs gripped his gun tightly and peered into the gloom as Anna sighted hers down the corridor.
‘Hard to see anything in this,’ she commented. ‘We’re going to scare ourselves shitless just jumping at shadows.’
‘So, what’s our next move?’ said Isaacs to the Nahabe around him. ‘Where do you want to start our search?
‘According to the schematics we have available for this ship class, this main corridor leads to a central lift hub that contains equipment lifts large enough for groups of us to enter and access the bridge level decks,’ the Lord Protector intoned. ‘Once there we can gain direct access to internal sensors and other systems. It is also likely that if the crew are hostile to us, that they will congregate there and attempt to defend such a vital command position.’
‘That sounds about right,’ Isaacs replied. ‘Once we’ve taken them out we can look for any survivors hiding aboard.’
‘Correct. We move now.’
At a silent signal the assembled warriors began to move swiftly down the darkened corridor. They moved in carefully co-ordinated formation, each covering the other as they swept doorways and possible hiding places for enemies. Isaacs and Anna kept a watchful eye on the shadows ahead that danced in the lights from the Nahabe’s armoured suits.
‘Nothing,’ said Anna in a low voice amidst the oppressive silence. ‘This place is a fucking ghost ship. Jesus, it’s so quiet.’
‘Maybe there are no crew aboard,’ said Isaacs. ‘What if the Shapers killed them all and just took over the ship’s systems instead?’
‘No,’ said the Lord Protector. ‘We detected life signs aboard.’
‘Then where the fuck are they?’ hissed Isaacs.
‘They’ll find us soon enough I think,’ came the reply from another of the warriors. ‘They’re waiting for us.’
Anna suppressed a shudder, feeling the chill of fear creeping along her spine, the animal instinct that told her that she was being watched. As if in answer to her suspicions she saw a shadowy figure standing in the corridor ahead of them.
‘Up ahead!’ she cried, raising her gun to shoulder height and taking aim.
‘We see it,’ rumbled the Lord Protector, then more loudly it boomed: ‘We are the warriors of the Order of Dead Suns, holy warriors of the Nahabe and allies of humanity. Drop your weapon and approach us slowly, friend.’
At its words the figure let a pistol fall slowly from its grasp with a clatter and stepped slowly towards the assembled armoured forms with its arms raised. As the Nahabes’ suit lights illuminated the figure it revealed itself to be a middle aged man in Lieutenant’s uniform.
‘Please,’ he said. ‘Don’t hurt me. The Captain sent me to meet with you and negotiate the surrender of our ship. I don’t know where you came from, but you have us outgunned and as you can see, you have disabled our ship. For the sake of the crew I ask for mercy.’
‘It’s alright,’ said Isaacs. ‘We mean you no harm.’ Though as he said the words he kept his weapon firmly trained on the advancing man. ‘All we want to do is search the ship, and to talk to you. If you co-operate you are all free to go.’
‘Is that so?’ said the man.
‘Yes,’ Isaacs replied. ‘Listen I’m Cal, this is my wife Anna and we’re uh... free agents I guess. We’re working with the Nahabe here. What do they call you?’
The man’s expression remained blank, his eyes seemed unfocused. ‘Lieutenant,’ he said. ‘Lieutenant… Hawkins.’ The words came out flat and wrong, as if the man couldn’t remember his own name. He was very close now, within a few metres of the Nahabe vanguard. In the dim light Isaacs caught a glimpse of something black and metallic jutting from the back of his skull.
Before he could pull the trigger the man exploded.
Isaacs was thrown from his feet as the blast engulfed two of the lead Nahabe. He felt his head strike a bulkhead and struggled to rise, groggy from the blow. Two the aliens’ sarcophagi had been blown open by the plasma demolition charges that the man had concealed upon him. Three more reeled from the explosion, their armour distorted and scarred whilst the ceiling and floor were cratered from the closely confined blast.
His ears rang, a long drawn out screaming that drowned out all other noise. In the half light he desperately cast about for Anna and found her sprawled against the wall, fighting to rise to her feet, still clutching her rifle in a death-like grip, her eyes wild. He grabbed her then, hauled her upright and gripped his gun that had only remained on his person due to the strap that had caught around his elbow as he fell.
They staggered forward to the point of the explosion and Isaacs almost choked at the bloody ruin he saw. Two Nahabe suits had been cracked clean open by the blast, the contents of one mercifully vaporised in an instant. The other was not so lucky. The oh-so-fragile creature within writhed in agony, its flesh so badly mauled and pierced by shrapnel it was impossible to tell where the body ended and the suit’s mangled systems began. Isaacs realised now that the screaming he had heard had not entirely been due to the ringing in his ears. Of the Lieutenant there was no sign, save for the sprays of blood on walls and ceiling and the head, cleanly severed by the blast which had rolled some distance down the corridor, the alien machinery still implanted in the back of its skull now clearly visible.
Drunk from the shock and horror, Isaacs stumbled towards it and peered in disgust. Something like a fat, black centipede emerged from a hole in the back of the man’s skull into which it appeared to have burrowed. From the exposed end, a number of spindly antennas probed the air. Isaacs turned the skull over with the tip of his gun barrel and looked into the man’s face. The Lieutenant looked back at him and appeared to be forming his mouth into words before laughing silently without the benefit of lungs or vocal chords.
‘Jesus fucking Christ that thing’s still alive!’ he heard Anna cry, before her shots rang out. Muffled by his temporary deafness they sounded to Isaacs as if fired underwater. The skull shattered, and the thing that that had lain within it was torn asunder by the high velocity rounds.<
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He turned and saw the Lord Protector floating solemnly in front of his fallen comrade. A gun arm was raised solemnly to the shattered carapace and discharged once, ending its wearer’s suffering.
Isaacs and Anna had escaped the blast with only minor injuries – mainly from being thrown from their feet by the shockwave – and a ringing in their ears. The blast created by the demolition charges that the Lieutenant had been carrying had proved utterly lethal at close range, but those further away had escaped the worst, especially since the two lead Nahabe had taken the brunt of the explosion.
As Isaacs and Anna watched, each Nahabe solemnly raised their weapons in silent salute to the fallen. Doubtless they would grieve later, but for now there was grim business to attend to.
‘As I suspected,’ said the Lord Protector to the assembled Nahabe and humans. ‘The Shapers have made slaves of these people.’
‘Zombies more like,’ said Anna. ‘What the fuck was that in his head? Some sort of controlling device?’
‘Yes, exactly. As I’m sure you are aware, our enemy makes a habit of infiltrating other societies by implanting its parasitic machine agents within the host bodies of important individuals. However they lack the resources to employ such agents on a large scale. Each is essentially a semi-autonomous shard of the greater Shaper group sentience and thus the problems of distributed processing would present itself were they to spread this too thinly.’
‘Network lag?’ said Isaacs.
‘Yes. Even with their advanced hyperspace transmission technologies, spreading the core processing functions of the Shaper race over the entire galaxy would result in significant slow-down, or else we would all be their slaves already. Instead, in situations where they wish to take over a group of individuals, for example the crew of a ship, a single person or a handful of individuals are joined to form a processing node and linked to the core around a single agent. The rest are implanted with lesser devices that possess no other ability than the capacity for following orders.’