Rebel World (The Eternal Frontier Book 4)

by Anthony J Melchiorri

  CHAPTER NINE

  The crew assembled in the mess for Tag to debrief them on everything L’ndrant told him. Bull looked pissed off—in other words, no different than usual. Coren wore a stoic expression to match Alpha’s, while Sofia looked rather sullen. Gorenado, Lonestar, and Sumo fluctuated between dismay and anger.

  “Any questions?” Tag asked when he was finished.

  “What about the Melarrey?” Sofia asked.

  “I struggled with that one,” Tag said. “On one hand, I hate to leave them behind when they’ve shown themselves to be powerful allies. On the other, I don’t want them entangled with the suspicions cast in our direction. Not to mention bringing them along with us would mean the last Melarrey in the universe would be exposed to extreme danger. I’m not sure risking their extinction is worth it.”

  “Aren’t we risking our own extinction by going it alone?” Bull asked.

  “I want to say that’s not the case, but you’re right, of course,” Tag said. “We’re risking humanity’s extinction by staying on Meck’ara, though, not to mention getting arrested. Bringing the Melarrey might help us escape Meck’ara. And to be honest, as much aid as they’ve provided, I don’t think they can do much if the Mechanic fleet catches wind of what we’re about to do.”

  Bull crossed his massive arms over his chest but said nothing.

  Tag clapped his hands together. “All right then, that is it. We’ve got a few hours to get this thing in shape for a hyperspace jump straight to the Montenegro. Dismissed.”

  The crew dispersed to their stations, securing all the loose tools they’d been using to repair the ship.

  Following Alpha up to the bridge, Tag asked, “How’s the hull integrity?”

  “Reports indicate it will withstand hyperspace travel. We should be able to complete repairs once we make the jump.”

  “And the shields?”

  “We are likely to be reduced to fifty percent or less shield efficiency,” Alpha said. “I could reassign the repair bots working on the hull to the shields, but then there is no guarantee we would finish hull repairs in time for transitioning into normal space near the Montenegro. Would you like me to do that?”

  Lacking full energy shields when jumping into a potentially dangerous situation was never a good idea. But cracks in the hull were worse, and if the whole of the Montenegro strike group had already been compromised by the Collectors, energy shields would be of little use whether at fifty or a hundred percent efficiency.

  “No, focus on the hull first,” Tag said. “Start calculating hyperspace trajectories, too. I don’t want to waste any time once we’re out of Deep Origin. It won’t take long for the Mechanics to come after us.”

  The hours until the emergency resupply ships were scheduled to leave the ship bay melted away. Soon Tag found himself in the captain’s station once again, secured in his crash couch with his EVA suit snug around his body. On the damaged viewscreen, he watched a few Mechanic transport ships hover above the deck, their grav impellers glowing in a soft blue.

  “Wait until my mark to initiate engines,” Tag said.

  A half-dozen more transport ships lifted into the sky. Each ship was ten times as large as the Argo, which would make hiding within their formation easier. The groan of metal announced the largest hatch of the ship bay opening. Slowly, the transport ships rose to meet it.

  “Wait for it,” Tag said as Alpha’s fingers hovered near her terminal. Sofia already had a tight grip on the controls.

  Tag eyed the idle battlecruisers and other warships docked around the bay. There was no reason to send a military escort for a short intraplanetary resupply mission. But all the same, Tag was nervous. Getting away from transport ships with minimal armaments wasn’t an easy task; getting away from a Mechanic ship equipped to take down dreadnaughts hundreds of times the size of the Argo was more difficult.

  The first transport ship entered the transition chamber. More drifted upward to join it.

  “Not yet,” Tag said. “Not yet.”

  A resounding roar shook the bay. The pneumatic pumps of the transition chamber were preparing to fill the space with water. Once the process had been started, it was difficult to reverse. Tag just needed to make sure they entered the waterlock at the point of no return. Three more transport ships lumbered through the port into the intermediary bay.

  “Now!”

  Alpha initiated the engines, and the impellers thrummed to life with a growl. Sofia pulled the controls back and launched them toward the nearest transport ships. They squeezed into a space between two of the lumbering crafts, concealing them from the workers in the ship bay and, Tag hoped, making them almost indistinguishable on sensor arrays. Using the ship’s outboard cams, Tag scanned the deck below.

  Come on, Tag thought, nothing to see here.

  He waited with bated breath until they made it into the intermediary chamber. The hatch behind them spiraled shut, and water exploded inward around them. Soon Sofia was jockeying with the controls to keep them from being smashed by the transports as the enormous waves rocked the ships.

  “Alpha, any sign of Mechanic forces?” Tag asked.

  “I have seen no evidence yet,” Alpha said. “However, I am intercepting communications from the ship bay inquiring to the Argo’s role in transporting the emergency resupplies.”

  “Well, that’s good,” Sofia said. “They at least think we’re going to help them or something.”

  “One of the port authority officials has just said our ship has made an unauthorized exit,” Alpha said.

  “Okay, it was good while it lasted,” Sofia said.

  The hatch to the ocean opened.

  “Sofia, full ahead,” Tag said. “Before the jig is up.”

  “Your word is my command, Skipper,” Sofia said.

  She threw the throttle forward, and the Argo left the transport ships behind. They burst out of the water in an eruption of white mist. Tag watched to see if the Mechanics had sent anyone to pursue them yet. Nothing showed up on the holomap. The transport ships emerged like surfacing whales, shedding sheets of water as they slowly lifted into the air. But none of them broke off to follow the Argo.

  “Incoming weapon locks,” Coren said with casual coolness.

  “Alpha, we got contacts?” Tag asked.

  “No,” she replied. “I believe the weapon locks are coming from the transports.”

  An incoming comm transmission request appeared on his terminal’s holoscreen. He swiped at the terminal, ignoring the hail.

  “Those we can easily outrun,” Tag said. “Coren, keep countermeasures hot. Alpha, warm what shields we have. Don’t flip them on yet. We don’t want to make it look like we’re prepping for a fight.”

  “Yes, Captain,” Alpha replied.

  Another incoming comm request bleated across Tag’s screen, and again he ignored it.

  “Straight up, Sofia,” Tag said. “We just need enough distance to make the jump. Alpha, you got trajectories ready?”

  “The T-drive is spooled and ready for initiation at your command.”

  “Excellent.” Tag ignored a third comm request. The viewscreen began to darken as they pushed out of the atmosphere and into space. “Almost there!”

  “Incoming fire!” Alpha announced.

  Coren swiveled the PDCs, and the thump of the cannons echoed through the bridge. Ropes of depleted uranium rounds glowed through the sky, connecting with a pair of missiles launched by one of the transports. The missiles exploded in a cloud of black and orange, tongues of fire licking up throughout the atmosphere.

  Another comm request blinked on Tag’s terminal.

  “Looks like they were trying to get our attention,” he said. “But I don’t really feel like talking right now.”

  Behind them, Meck’ara shrank to a blue-and-green marble. Gray chunks of the Dawn, as well as the husks of Mechanic defensive satellites, stations, and fleet craft floated around them. Then the twin glares of bright-blue impellers rocketing towa
rd them caught Tag’s attention.

  “Captain,” Alpha said, “unknown vessels are moving in on an intercept course.”

  “Just the two of them?” he asked.

  More bright-blue glares appeared across the viewscreen. A cloud of dots burst to life on the holomap at the center of bridge.

  “Spoke too soon, Skipper,” Sofia said.

  “Plan doesn’t change,” Tag said. “Sofia, get us out of here.”

  “More than happy to.”

  The Argo began a spiraling, erratic course out of the debris field, winding in and out of clouds of wires and slagged bulkheads, twisted cannons, and impellers attached to semi-functional fusion engines still burning in lazy circles.

  “I never would have thought I’d say this,” Coren said, “but I’m glad the planetary defensive networks are down. If we had to contend with those, I don’t think we would stand a chance of escape.”

  “Happy to have your confidence,” Sofia said as she guided the Argo around a slowly rotating chunk of a battlecruiser.

  Once again, a comm request chimed on Tag’s console. “Alpha, how much longer before we can make a safe jump?”

  “At this rate, ten seconds.”

  “Good.” Tag swiped the request away.

  As soon as he did, a storm of new contacts appeared on the bridge holomap. Warning alarms barked around them, announcing the incoming ordnance as if they hadn’t already seen the gale headed their direction.

  “Countermeasures?” Coren asked.

  “Let’s not waste them,” Tag replied. “Alpha, ready?”

  “Ready in five, four, three”—the torpedoes glared brighter across the viewscreen—“two, one.”

  “Initiate!” Tag said.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The sudden grip of acceleration clutched at Tag’s insides, and his fingers tightened around the armrests of his crash couch. As the inertial dampeners gave his guts a chance to rest, the debris fields around Meck’ara gave way. It was replaced by gentle waves of plasma that lapped over the Argo like a breeze over a field of grass. Occasional crackles of green and purple sprinkled across the viewscreen, and Tag let out a long exhale.

  Safe in hyperspace.

  He tapped a button on his terminal to initiate the ship-wide speakers. “Congratulations. You are all now officially fugitives of the Mechanic Enclave.”

  “Better to be fugitives than prisoners, I always say,” Coren said.

  “You always say that?” Sofia said, undoing the restraints to her crash couch. “You’ve never struck me as much of a lawbreaker.”

  Coren stood and stretched his lanky arms. “I will have you know that I once skipped a day of training back in engineering school.”

  Sofia raised an eyebrow. “A whole day?”

  “Okay, a single class.”

  “A whole class?”

  “I was late.”

  Sofia laughed. “That’s more like the Coren I know.”

  “Breaking the rules is wrong,” Alpha said. “Were there not repercussions?”

  “There was a fair amount of shame when the professor called on me by name and I couldn’t produce an answer to his question because I wasn’t around to hear it.”

  “Shame is an adequate punishment for tardiness?” Alpha asked.

  “Let’s find out,” Tag said. “I want everyone to meet in the mess in one hour. Don’t be late.”

  An hour wasn’t enough time to steal a nap, but it gave him a chance to clean up and grab a coffee from the autoserv bay in the mess. The shower momentarily fooled him into forgetting that he had gone the previous night without sleep. But when the warmth of the water had disappeared and the bleariness in his eyes returned, his exhaustion was not so easily neglected. Now the cup of hot coffee in his hands did barely more than prop up the weight hanging on his eyelids.

  Coren and Alpha sauntered in first with Lucky trailing them. The Rizzar popped into a seat next to Tag, laying her head on his shoulder. He scratched between her ears, and she mewled like a kitten then curled up on the seat. Her eyes closed, and her breath went in and out in the slow rhythm of sleep.

  Sofia was the next to join them, followed by the marines. The squad had a habit of showing up to prearranged meetings just before they started. Tag found it interesting. In the science field, he was used to two types of people: those who were consistently ten minutes early to meetings, and those who were consistently ten minutes late. He had met all manners of scientist, ranging from extroverted geniuses who ran successful companies to introverted number-crunchers with offices filled with dog-eared papers and dusty data cubes. But he’d never met anyone who always made it to a meeting right on time.

  “I admire your punctuality,” Tag said to Bull. “Never too early, never late.”

  “Wasted time can’t be recovered,” Bull said. “Something they drilled into us during training. If you’re early, you could’ve been cleaning your gun or getting another rep in on the weights. If you’re late, well goddamn it, you missed the meeting.”

  “Pragmatic,” Coren said.

  “Meetings are one thing,” Tag said. “I’m just hoping we can make it to the Montenegro in time. Let’s talk big picture first. Everyone is on strict orders to remain absolutely silent about anything and everything about our recent adventures. Don’t tell them what we’ve done, where we’ve been, and what we’ve seen when we reach the strike group. The only person we’ll be speaking to is Admiral Doran. That’s it. I don’t want word to spread about the Collectors, their technology, or their colonization attempts. Nothing.”

  “My lips are sealed,” Sofia said.

  Alpha’s head tilted. “They appear to be fully intact and functional. Why would you say that?”

  “Human expression,” Sofia said, their oft-repeated explanation.

  “What if another officer questions us?” Sumo asked.

  “Tell them you are under strict orders by Admiral Doran and that you must defer all information requests to her,” Tag said. “Understood?”

  He got a chorus of “Yes, Captain,” and head nods from around the table.

  “Good,” Tag said. “I have no idea what the admiral will do with this information or what’s in store for us.” In truth, he was worried his crew might be reassigned or disbanded altogether. He hadn’t realized until that moment how much he would miss them and this ship. “We need to prepare for anything. Alpha’s already got the repair bots working on the external hull damage. We’ve still got quite a bit of work to get the energy shields back online and in working order. Bull, when you’re not training, I want you and the marines to help Alpha with manual internal ship repairs. She’ll show you what needs to be done.”

  “You got it,” Bull said. No one else seemed to mind taking orders from a droid, either. They’d come a long way since first meeting Alpha, and he was pleased to see that the marines had accepted her as a fellow crew member. An equal.

  Then Alpha had to open her synthetic mouth. “I am very much looking forward to working with the marines, but do they have the ability to perform repair work?”

  Lonestar shot her a look fierce as pulsefire. “Back on my grandpop’s ranch, the only repair bots we had were the ranch hands and us kids. Everything from fences to fusion reactors, we had to do it ourselves.”

  “So you believe you are capable?”

  Lonestar rolled her eyes, and Gorenado stifled a laugh.

  Tag decided to stay out of it. Sometimes, parents had to let their children figure out their own way. He figured the same was true of AIs and the scientists who created them.

  “Sofia, I want you and Coren to prepare some data packets with our findings. We need courier drones ready. In the worst-case scenario, if Doran or her crew has already been compromised, we need to get a warning to Earth and any other races out there that might be able to respond. If you can identify anyone—whether it’s a civilization you know from your studies or a Mechanic trading partner—we have to think about blowing the lid on this Collector conspiracy. I
t’s our ace in the hole, but I want to be ready just in case.”

  “If we make everything public like that, we might be inviting the Collectors to attack,” Coren said.

  “Exactly why this is a last resort,” Tag said. “I don’t want to have to do it. If the Collectors find out we’re onto them, they’ll drop the subterfuge and subdue the SRE with force. And we all know where that leads.” Tag shivered as he said the words, reminded of what it was like to have had the nanites crawling through his body, taking control of his every movement. “Whatever it takes, we will not let the Collectors win.”

  “Agreed,” Coren said. “I do not want to see them do to another people what they have done to mine.”

  “Lonestar,” Tag said. “Before, a Mil Intel officer used you to track us down. If the Collector collaborators targeted you to deliver the transponder to this ship, they may have been watching you long before they convinced you to carry out their mission.”

  Lonestar nodded, looking sullen and ashamed of the treachery she had been tricked into carrying out. “I’m just as sorry as I can be about that, Cap,” she said.

  “I know. You don’t need to apologize. If you’d consent to it, I’d ask that you share your last several months of private communications with Alpha, along with access to your wrist terminal. She may be able to find something we missed. If so, we might use that information to track more of them down.”

  “Of course, Captain,” Lonestar said. “Anything I can do to help stop those assholes, I’ll do it sure as a donkey pisses on the grass.”

  Alpha looked at Sofia. “Is that a human expression, too?”

  Sofia laughed. “I’m not sure what that was.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Their time in hyperspace passed by in a frenetic blur of activity and occasional, but much needed, sleep. When they were once again settled in their crash couches awaiting transition to normal space, Tag felt a surge of confidence. Now they held the cards. They could blow the conspiracy open if need be, alerting media outlets throughout the SRE to warn people of the Collector threat. Even if the SRE government was already controlled by the Collectors—which Tag hoped wasn’t yet true—it might be enough to convince people to rise against their oppressors. Fringe colonies had been trying to subvert SRE rule for decades. They just needed an excuse to rebel.