Space Cruiser Musashi: a space opera novel

by Dean Chalmers

  And sure to be Valorians on the other side…

  “But it’s choke point. I wish we had a choice, sending you into a certain ambush…”

  Reynard shrugged. “Not an ambush if we know they’re waiting for us, Sir.”

  “They think we’re walking into pain and death,” Seutter’s voice said. “They can’t wait, they’re so excited to cleanse the universe of our infidel lives.”

  Brattain and Reynard turned and saw the Psionicist, alongside Doctor Xon. Both now wore combat nanosuits, with utility packs at their waists. Both also had bony, organic Valorian gauntlet-weapons on their right arms—taken from the enemies whom they’d killed on the moon.

  “They believe absolutely that God is on their side,” Seutter continued, a sneering tone in his voice. “They won’t believe that for long—not after they find out they can’t fry our brains anymore. I’ll enjoy destroying their faith, taking that from them.”

  “Those gauntlets…” Reynard said. “You know what you’re doing with those?” He sounded skeptical.

  Xon nodded. “Mister Seutter had some practice back on the moon when we were stranded, and I think that I myself grasp the basic function.”

  Reynard looked to Brattain, as if hoping she would order the two to leave the Valorian weapons behind.

  When she didn’t, he sighed. “All right. Is Ensign Behr here?”

  A young, tall crewman with long blond hair, a slugthrower holstered at his hip, came forward. He carried another one of the guns, bound in a spare holster, in his arms.

  “Ready, Sir. I brought your weapon.”

  Reynard nodded. “Lieutenant Simak will extend the docking tube. Let’s get to the airlock.”

  #

  Reynard saw that he’d been right about the security; the nanokey automatically hacked the Colonial ship’s door within seconds.

  It slid aside—and there was an armored Valorian standing almost in the doorway, his thick gauntlet pointed towards them.

  For a split second, Reynard felt a heated tingling playing over his scalp, trying to burn his mind again.

  But it never got hotter…

  Suppressant working—good.

  He fired his slugthrower.

  The Valorian’s armored chest was perforated by the bullets. Amber fluid spurted from the cracks and holes, and Reynard winced reflexively as a globule of it floated over to splatter on the outside of his nanosuit.

  The momentum from the bullets sent the Valorian drifting backwards, and Reynard surged forward. The small ship’s gravity spike was off, and they were in a zero-g environment, something he was well-trained in.

  He put his back to a bulkhead to brace himself, not wanting the inertia of the slug thrower to propel him randomly.

  Two more Valorians emerged from the shadows.

  No understanding of tactics, he thought. Too used to relying on their psionics.

  The Psionicist, Seutter, floated forward into the chamber. Reynard could hear him chuckling softly through his comm link.

  Not a good idea to bring him, he thought. But Commander insisted.

  Seutter’s own gauntlet glowed and flared.

  Energy projectiles like bolts of lightning spun out to smash one of the Valorians in the faceplate. Fluids bubbled up from where the faceplate had been, and the Valorian spun backwards.

  Doctor Xon was floating in now, his own gauntlet raised.

  No hesitation killing your own kind, Doctor? Reynard thought. I have to watch both of them.

  They could turn on me at any time. I need to be prepared for the contingency.

  The Valorian pushed himself off from the bulkhead with his long armored legs, and shot towards them.

  Seutter got between Reynard and the Valorian, raised his gauntlet again.

  Damn, Reynard thought. You’re in the way.

  “You want to burn?” Seutter said through his comm. He held his own gauntlet out; this time there were no miniature lightning spheres. Instead, he spread his palm, pointed it towards the Valorian.

  “My brother taught me a lot about pain,” Seutter hissed. “There’s a cold of sort of fire that burns your soul. When all your strength is replaced by shame, and everything you have is ripped apart.”

  “Graham!” Doctor Xon exclaimed.

  “Turning their hate against them,” Seutter laughed. “Face the failure. Pathetic in the eyes of God, you know that? You’re nothing. Nothing.”

  The Valorian was thrashing now, as if having a seizure inside of its suit. It kept drifting forward until it became entangled in loops of cabling that hung overhead.

  It was, Reynard had to admit, almost comical, seeing it suspended there thrashing around.

  Now that he had a clear shot, Reynard quickly switched his rifle to single-fire mode, and planted a single bullet in the middle of the faceplate. Globes of amber fluid emerged, and the thing stopped thrashing.

  “I wasn’t done, Godammit,” Seutter cursed.

  “Graham, what are you doing?” Xon asked, coming forward, placing his gauntleted hand on Seutter’s shoulder and turning him around. “You did take the suppressant, didn’t you?”

  “What do you think, Doctor?” he asked. “Me, addicted to the dulling haze of that drug? Why would I not take it, hmm? Oh, you should know, shouldn’t you? You should have been watching, my always observant keeper.”

  Reynard was alarmed by the implications of what he heard.

  He asked Xon: “You think he didn’t use the suppressant? He’s vulnerable to the Valorians telepathy?”

  Xon shook his head inside his helmet. “I don’t know. He’s a Psionicist. He might be able to fend him them off better than–”

  “More than just fend them off,” Seutter chuckled. “I’m going to make these bastards feel real pain.”

  “You should know,” Xon said, “if one of them is aberrant or in too much distress, they’re able to cut off the link so that the collective mind of the Valorians doesn’t suffer.”

  “But there are ways to get to that collective mind, aren’t there?” Seutter said.

  Suddenly, there was movement from the direction of the front of the ship. Another figure strode forward, moving slowly with heavy steps on the deck.

  Reynard raised his slugthrower.

  Got this one, he thought.

  But suddenly, Xon was in his way, trying to push his gun aside.

  “No, no!” the doctor shouted. “He’s human!”

  And then he saw that the newcomer was indeed a human being, wearing a very old style of hard-shelled spacesuit with an oversized helmet. His heavy deliberate steps were due to the magnetized boots he wore, locking to the deck as each foot was planted.

  Behind his clear visor, there was the face of a gaunt man, long brown hair plastered to his head. He had a scraggly beard and was missing many teeth as he mouthed something to them.

  “Scan local comm channels,” Reynard commanded to his suit.

  Within a second, he heard the newcomer’s voice. “…not one of them. You’re human, right? You’re Republic. Damn it, but please don’t shoot me. God help me.”

  Reynard lowered his gun. “You’re Colonial, right? What are you doing here working with the Valorians?”

  “They made me help,” the newcomer gasped. “I’m Joachim. I was engineer, FS Boudica. This ship is Spartacus, they’re trying to repair it. I think the want it used for a decoy or something. Need more bodies—Colonial bodies—men and women. God, the women! They have the women in the station. Hannah’s in there I think, the others… please.”

  The man looked exhausted… But perhaps his aimless stare was a result of Colonial breeding: unfiltered, unprocessed genes stagnating over generations.

  Stupid Colonists stinking in their own filth, Reynard thought. Look at what your values of freedom and self-sufficiency have got you now… Enslaved.

  But Reynard tried to hide his disdain, to remain professional. “All right,” he said. “We’ve been sent to retrieve the women. Stay here and don’t follow u
s.”

  But Xon immediately contradicted his order. “Through that hatch,” he said, “there’s a docking tube to our ship, Musashi. I’ll send a message to them. They’ll get you to sickbay. My staff can help you.”

  There was only a brief flash of skepticism in the Colonist’s eyes before a look of relief—perhaps born of desperation—came over him.

  “Yes,” he said. “Okay, thanks.”

  And he headed towards the hatch.

  Reynard said over his comm: “Behr, single Colonist coming to board Musashi. Let him pass.”

  Ensign Behr, who had been watching the docking tube, finally joined them a moment later. He gave an all clear sign, and then Reynard turned to Xon.

  “Doctor, I’m in charge of this boarding party,” he said. “The Commander may enjoy having her orders interrupted and challenged, but I do not. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant,” Xon said, nodding to him from inside his helmet.

  Reynard pushed off on the bulkhead, floating forward, seeking handholds.

  The three of them had to catch up with Seutter, who was pulling ahead, all too eager to get inside of the Valorian’s station…

  41

  The corridor was long and twisting, the walls organic: pink-grey with pulsing veins. Every hundred meters or so, branching corridors led off; the shadowy bowels gleamed wetly.

  Dim yellowish light-globes—dangling from bundles of what looked like nerve fibers—cast faint illumination. It was enough to see by, and Reynard had ordered them to keep their suit lights off.

  Reynard, Seutter, Xon, and Ensign Behr made their way along the fleshy corridor, using nubs of protruding tissue as handholds to push themselves along. Their suit sensors now detected breathable atmosphere, but Reynard had wisely ordered them to keep their suits sealed for now.

  “You sure they’re close?” Reynard asked. “This station is huge.”

  Seutter chuckled. “Their workers are practically on top of us. I’m surprised our resident ex-Valorian can’t feel them.”

  “I can feel something…” Xon said.

  “Fear?” Seutter asked.

  “Yes,” Xon said. “But that’s all I sense… Vague, considering the suppressant. There are many different kinds of fear… And different reactions to it.”

  “They’re thinking of ‘the children of the Faith glorious.’” Seutter said. “The fruit from the seed that will spread across the universe. That’s why this place is so big… They have big plans. But they need more… material.”

  “Colonists?” Reynard asked.

  “Wombs,” Seutter said. “Didn’t you know? Oh, I can hear the others now… So cold, alone… The violation is… pain and shame and fear… No, damn it!”

  Seutter’s face contracted in pain behind his faceplate.

  “Graham, are you hearing the female Colonists?” Xon asked.

  Seutter only waved his arm ahead.

  It reminds him of Griffin, Xon thought. The things his brother did to innocents, the pain and violation…

  Now that he’s opened up his mind, his telepathy has made him vulnerable to strong emotions from those close by.

  Please stay focused, Graham…

  About fifty meters in front of them, the corridor was blocked by a wall that looked like it was made of knotted red muscle.

  “I think that’s a door,” Xon told Reynard.

  As they approached, the door sphinctered open, revealing a shadowy chamber about as big as one of the Musashi’s docking bays. The walls here were grayish, more like bone or cartilage than skin.

  In the center of the chamber was a formation of devices that reminded Xon more of a clump of grapes that of anything else. Thirty or so round pods, looking like giant, fleshy fruits, made up the “bunch” of grapes… There were several levels of them, about twenty meters high and across. The “stems” joined a thick bundle of fibers which ran to both floor and ceiling.

  There were silhouettes inside of the flesh-pods, visible even in the dim light of the chamber.

  Human silhouettes.

  There was air in here as well, and Xon’s suit sensors picked up and amplified the sounds of pained breathing, moans and sobs…

  “Dear God, no,” Xon whispered.

  I didn’t want to believe it. Such cold cruelty in the name of God.

  Was this how my mother was kept? I never knew her, I always assumed she was one of the Valorians, living in orbit in a zero-g environment suited to her, but…

  Could they have been doing this even then?

  And they sent me to spy for them, help them to plan more horrors…

  But where are they now, the Faithful?

  “Any sign of the enemy?” Reynard asked, sweeping his rifle around.

  “No,” Xon said, “But… It’s possible they've left to protect more vital areas.”

  “Not a chance,” Seutter said bluntly.

  The low moaning of female voices echoed in the chamber...

  “We have to help them,” Xon told Reynard.

  Without hesitation, he pushed off from the wall. Xon moved to the first pod and tried to find a way to open it…

  “Doctor!” Reynard barked. “Get back here!”

  Got to find a seam on this thing, a way to open it… She’s thrashing in there, poor woman… isolated, weak, helpless…

  Got to get her out.

  There was a flash of movement—

  Before Xon could react, something grabbed his arm.

  Lightning-quick, a suitless Valorian had whipped over the pod, grabbing his arm with a prehensile foot—

  Five more naked Valorians scuttled out from all over… They’d been hiding amidst the pods and the “stems” and “branches” which linked them.

  Pink-gray and glistening, moving with preternatural surety in this environment—like spiders in a fleshy web—the naked Valorians emerged, several launching themselves towards Reynard, Behr and Seutter.

  Xon looked up at the bulging, pale eyes in the noseless, lipless face of the one who held him.

  Betrayer!, came the voice in his head. Abandoner!

  A Valorian female’s voice…

  This one is an angry nursemaid.

  Defending her unborn children… Children incubated in stolen bodies.

  Behr fired his slugthrower at the one who leapt at him.

  Its body sailed off, diverted by the kinetic energy of the bullets, blood bubbling from its nose and ears—

  Another Valorian reached down from the ceiling, grabbed Seutter's helmet, and yanked him up—

  Xon struggled with his attacker. Another one landed on his back, long fingers of its skeletal hands clawing at his faceplate.

  No weapons.

  Are we vulnerable? Can’t get into our nanosuits…

  Reynard brought down two naked Valorians with his own gun. Blood bubbled and boiled in the air around them, as their pale, dead bodies spun off together into the shadows.

  Xon heard a scream.

  He looked over just in time to see Behr fall beneath the assault of two spidery Valorians. One held some sort of bony tool, like a gray talon, glowing at the tip…

  And he drove it into the back of the Ensign’s neck, piercing his nanosuit. There was a puff of black smoke, and Behr went limp.

  No! They are not entirely defenseless.

  Seutter grabbed his Valorian's neck and head-butted it!

  Pushing off the wall, he swung with all his might and cracked its skull open on the base of a pod.

  “No more hurt and shame!” Seutter rasped. “Except for you! You want… judgment? Here’s mine!”

  Seutter’s brutality seemed to get their attention; they now all focused on him.

  The others turned… Those on Behr launched with insect speed, flying towards the angry Psionicist.

  Xon shoved one of his own distracted attackers against the pod, trying to get loose.

  Seutter, venomous, raised his gauntlet, screamed in fury—

  And fired.

  A
swarm of ball-lighting projectiles launched towards his attackers, easily finding their marks.

  More of them charged Seutter, and again he fired—

  Again…

  The burnt Valorians drifted, their smoking rag-doll bodies floating away, lifeless.

  Xon's attackers launched away, dodging Seutter's blasts as they soared towards the Psionicist.

  There was a staccato burst of gunfire, and these two spun off in clouds of blood.

  At the entrance to the chamber, Reynard lowered his rifle. “That’s all of them? Is it?”

  Seutter lowered his gauntlet. “Yes. Damn it, yes.”

  “Are you all right, Graham?” Xon asked.

  “Too quick, too easy… for them,” Seutter gasped. “Now, only… Uhh! Cold, alone, fear… They don’t know this is a rescue, they’re terrified.”

  “The women, of course,” Xon said. “Lieutenant, we must get them out. Let me call for my medical staff.”

  “All right,” Reynard said. “But I’m calling for armed guards as well, just in case.” He looked to where the Ensign’s body drifted near the ceiling. “No life signs on Behr. Doctor, your impulsive and dangerous action in here has been noted.”

  One more thing I have to account for…

  One more death.

  Seutter studied a dead Valorian which had drifted close by. His expression was unreadable.

  “Look at it. Are they like humans, Doctor, in the… genital area?”

  “Yes,” Xon said. “Of course.”

  “This one was a female, then. Most of them here were, I think. And what did they do to the Colonial women? So much for universal sisterhood… Thanks to Griffin, I always thought that kind of violation was a male prerogative.”

  Seutter pushed the Valorian corpse aside and drifted to a nearby pod.

  “Careful, Graham,” Xon cautioned. “We don’t know how those things work. Need to be cautious in getting the women out.”

  “But it’s so easy, isn’t it?” Seutter replied. “Just think ‘open’ at it, and—”

  Layers of tissue peeled apart and the pod opened like a sudden-blooming flower.

  A naked, heavily pregnant woman floated inside, umbilicals attached to her belly and neck. She was a large woman in her thirties, her thick brown hair floating wildly around a weathered face that was slack in terror as her wide eyes gazed at Seutter.