by G J Ogden
Adra walked over to Lux and followed the line of his gaze, quickly spotting the scorpion-shaped craft as it cruised lethargically towards the dock, the starship equivalent of a dead man walking. Adra’s jaw tightened; she knew the distinctive shape of the Hunter Corvettes as intricately as she knew the curves and lines of her own face.
“They should not be reclaiming the Hunters,” said Lux. His voice was tinged with sadness, but his hands clenched into fists as he said the words. “If more of them had remained operational then we would have discovered this human threat sooner.”
Lux’s statement was bold considering he was making it in the presence of his Provost. Normally, an adjutant would not presume to state an opinion so brazenly, for risk of it conflicting with the views of his or her commander. Adra should have cut him back down to size, but she appreciated that Lux had spoken the words with genuine feeling and outrage; an outrage she shared. As the one who had devised the Hunter Fleet programme, no-one was more angry than Adra to see one of her ships sent to die in a place like this.
“Warfare Command has believed humans to be extinct for decades,” said Adra coolly, though the subject was too raw for her to hide her emotions completely. “The Hunter Fleet once numbered in the thousands. Now it is all but extinct, while the humans live on.”
“Not for long, Provost,” said Lux, making no attempt to restrain the anger that colored his words. “We will find this rogue ship and force them to tell us where the humans are hiding.”
Despite herself, Adra felt a swell of pride for her Adjutant. Few ever gained Adra’s trust or respect, and considering Lux’s shaky beginnings, she had thought it more likely that she would have killed him than considered him an ally. Yet here he stood, filled with the very same sense of purpose that had fueled her every thought and action since discovering the true nature of the anomalous signal inside the CoreNet.
Adra removed a small data pad from the pocket of her long, black coat and requested the registry record of the Corvette from the CoreNet central database. As she waited for the data to process, she watched the Corvette latch on to the airlock of the inner structure; the first stage of its eventual dissection.
The data pad bleeped and Adra read the first line of information. The ship was designated as ‘Hunter Corvette GST8R1’. Adra did not need to delve further into the records to learn more about this ship. It was the same Hunter Corvette that had been docked on Way Station G-7J00; the same Corvette that the Casey Valera simulant had been stolen from. Without a full crew, Warfare Command would have had no reason to keep it in service. A convenient excuse… Adra thought to herself. But, more significantly, Hunter Corvette GST8R1 was also the very last Hunter Corvette commissioned; she knew this because she had personally been the one to launch it. Its arrival at the reclamation facility confirmed that the Hunter Corvette program – a program that she had been instrumental in creating centuries earlier – was no more, at least in the eyes of Warfare Command. But Adra knew better; she knew that there was still one more Hunter Corvette in the galaxy. Except that this one did not see human beings as its prey; it hunted something else. And it had to be stopped.
The console on the desk of Warden Holx chimed an incoming message. Adra placed the data pad back in her coat pocket and marched to the desk to answer it. “Yes, what is it?” she snarled, irritated by the interruption.
“Apologies, Provost,” said the voice of Warden Holx through the communicator. Adra could not see the Warden, but she could hear him nervously rustling the collar of his jacket, as he had done the first time they’d met. “But I wanted to bring something to your attention. There has been an unscheduled launch from the planet’s surface.”
“Not ours?” said Adra.
“No, Provost, but I believe our sensors must be malfunctioning, as the readings make no sense,” Holx went on. Adra realized he was trying to cover his back before he’d even explained what he’d seen, and she was already rapidly losing patience with him.
“Just tell me what the sensor readings show, Warden Holx,” snapped Adra. “I am not interested in excuses.”
“We detect no transceiver identification, but the hull designs and power signatures read as…” he hesitated again before adding, “well, they read as Earth Fleet transports.” His voice cowered as if he expected to be struck across the face for the stupidity of his comment, despite not even being in the same room as Adra. Lux had overheard the conversation and hurried to the desk, stumbling slightly; still weak from the double jump. He looked into Adra’s intense green eyes, watching and waiting for her orders.
“Dispatch any ships you have and intercept them immediately,” ordered Adra, “and transfer docking release control to my frigate, I will launch at once.”
“Yes, Provost, our ships are already en route, but...” Holx hesitated again, and Adra wished she could reach through the communications link and strangle him.
“You are beginning to test my patience, Warden,” said Adra, darkly.
The implied threat was not lost on Holx. “There is another ship approaching,” he added promptly, but there was fear in his voice now. “We did not see it until it was almost upon us. It used the debris field to mask...”
“What ship?!” Adra cried, slamming her fist on the desk with such intensity that it dented the smooth metal surface.
“A Corvette, Provost. A Hunter Corvette,” babbled Holx, “but I read no transceiver signal from it, either. It is like it does not exist.”
Adra peered at Lux for a mere fraction of a second and together they ran, barging through the office door with such force that it almost flew off its hinges, and down the spiral staircase to the web of corridors that spread throughout the facility. Lux struggled to keep pace with Adra as they charged towards the dock where her War Frigate was waiting. But then the lights in the corridor suddenly began to emit a high-pitched whine, which grew in intensity to a level that forced Adra and Lux to stop and press their hands to their ears. Then all of the lights blew out simultaneously, showering them with hot splinters, and for a moment they were weightless as the gravity systems failed. But then low-level emergency lights flickered on, casting the corridor in a soft orange hue, and they felt the pull of artificial gravity dragging them back to the deck.
“Emergency life-support generators,” said Lux, as his feet again touched the deck plating. “It will only be sufficient to power critical systems.”
Adra brushed the still-hot fragments of glass and filaments from her face and neck and then peered out through the windows that ran along both sides of the entire length of the passage. It was not only their corridor that had been affected; every corridor and every section of the reclamation facility had gone dark. She ran further along the passage to a communications console in an attempt to raise Holx for an update, but this too had either been blown out or was receiving no power. She smashed her fist through the screen, crying out with frustration.
“We must get to our ship,” she growled at Lux, “there is no time to lose!”
Lux nodded and chased after her, helping her to force open connecting doors that had sealed shut when the power failed. Soon they had reached the docking area where their colossal War Frigate lay waiting for them. Adra rushed in first, startling the five dock workers inside, who all straightened to attention upon seeing a provost and adjutant of Warfare Command. Adra raced past them to the airlock door, but it was closed and no matter how hard Adra pulled on the handle, it would not open.
“Excuse me, Provost,” said one of the dock workers, tentatively, “but we have lost power and the dock has been locked down automatically. Until power is restored there is no way to access your ship, or release the docking clamps.”
Adra hammered a fist on the airlock door and then advanced on the dock worker, fists still clenched and green eyes burning with rage. The worker cowered from her, raising an arm to shield herself from the blow she expected to land at any moment, but then the entire dock shook. Adra lowered her fist and peered out through t
he transparent ceiling to see a Hunter Corvette flash past, weaving through the web of conduits with a level of piloting precision that Adra had only seen once before.
“It’s the rogue Corvette!” snarled Adra, and then she peered at Lux, who bared his teeth and reached inside his coat for his plasma pistol. “They have come for the simulants on the other Hunter ship!”
“Then we have them, Provost!” Lux responded, arming his pistol, “They will be forced to dock and then we will capture them all!”
Adra also drew her pistol and armed it. “We only need the simulant intact,” said Adra, “I can extract the location of the other bases from its cranial unit. The rest can be eliminated.”
“Then it ends now!” said Lux, holding his pistol ready.
Adra turned to the female dock worker, who was still cowering before her. “You and your crew; arm yourselves with whatever weapons you can find, and follow me, now.”
Adra moved to leave, expecting her command to be obeyed without question, but the dock worker remained and croaked a response, “But, Provost, we are not soldiers, we cannot fight!”
Adra stopped, turned and then shot the dock worker through the heart with a single, precisely aimed shard of plasma. The worker crumpled to the deck, killed instantly by the ferocity and pinpoint accuracy of the blast. Adra lowered her weapon and then addressed the others, who were all staring at the body of their dead co-worker, mouths agape. “I allowed her to die quickly. The next to refuse my command will suffer slowly.”
The other dock workers anxiously looked to one another and then hurried around the dock, picking up the sturdiest tools they could find and grasping them in trembling hands. They then followed behind Provost Adra and Adjutant Lux as the two elite military officers marched towards the decommissioned Hunter Corvette, ready to lay their ambush.
FIFTEEN
Overloading a small scout ship or even a few sections of a Way Station was one thing, but the intensity of the pain that Taylor felt while overloading the breaking yard was on a whole other level. For a time he had suffered the Fabric equivalent of a blackout, losing awareness of everything other than his own thoughts. It was similar to going through a jump, except he was only aware of himself and no-one else. After some time – how long he had no idea – the deep space corridor resolved again, and the throbbing pain in his mind and the representation of his body began to subside. For a moment, he couldn’t see the breaking yard, but then he realized why – it was in total darkness. His ‘party trick’ had taken a toll on him, but it had worked, and all he could do in that moment was laugh and smile.
He hadn’t intended to take down the entire facility, and had focused his mind specifically on the turrets guarding the sensor perimeter. But the act of overloading these enormously energetic weapons had resulted in a cascade of failures that had rippled through every other part of the breaking yard too. As a result the lights all around the facility had fizzled out like candles in a rain storm.
Contingency One... Taylor thought, picturing the scorpion-like ship in his mind and trying to feel for its unique energy. Take me back to the Contingency One... And then he was moving through space and in a near instant he was locked onto the tail of his ship as Casey weaved it towards the structure where its doppelgänger was docked. He ducked instinctively as conduits and corridors flashed past, forgetting that there was no way he could actually collide with them.
“Taylor, you’re in danger!” called out the voice of Satomi Rose.
Taylor spun around, but this time he could not see her, “Satomi? Where are you?”
“Focus on my voice,” said Satomi, “you’re in danger!”
As Taylor listened to her words he began to race through space again, moving so fast that everything became a blur, until he emerged inside a rectangular room with transparent walls and ceiling. Behind him were a series of docking hatches, one of which was occupied, and beyond it Taylor could see the outline of a Corvette-class cruiser.
“She’s here, on this facility,” said Satomi, and Taylor turned again to follow the voice, this time seeing his former technical specialist in the room with him. “Provost Adra and her Adjutant are here; the Hedalt military officers who have been hunting you.”
“What, how could she know we’re...” Taylor began, but Satomi took a step towards him, holding up her hands to stop him mid-sentence.
“She can detect your incursions into the Fabric,” said Satomi. “And she’s found a way to trace you, just as I can,” then she corrected herself, “not exactly like I can; for me it’s… different. I don’t know how she’s doing it, but I do know that every time you enter this place from now on, you risk her discovering your location!”
“If that’s true, I need to be more careful in the future,” said Taylor, then he shuddered at the prospect of what would happen if Adra tracked them back to the main Contingency base. Her frigate alone was powerful enough to decimate the entire base, and everyone on it.
“You need to be more careful right now,” Satomi continued. She still appeared human to Taylor inside the Fabric, and he recognized the fear in her eyes and the way her forehead wrinkled when she was stressed. “The others on your ship are in danger too; Adra will attack as soon as they set foot on this reclamation facility!”
Suddenly the whole docking section shuddered and Taylor watched as the Contingency One raced overhead and then spiraled down in front of one of the empty docking ports in a maneuver that any World War Two fighter ace would have been envious of. That this was accomplished in the vacuum of space using only thrusters and pure, unmitigated guile was all the more remarkable. Moments later Taylor saw the lights around the docking port flash on, and the door lock start to turn.
“They’re shunting power from your ship to the docking port,” said Satomi. “Go, quickly, before it’s too late! Warn them, Taylor!”
Taylor was torn; he wanted more time with Satomi, time to learn more about where she was and how he could find her, but she was also right; he had to go. “I’ll find you again soon,” he said, “I’ll have to be more cautious from now on, but somehow I’ll find you again, and I’ll come for you.”
Satomi rushed to him and tried to push him back towards the ship, but her hands just melted into his body. And though he could not physically feel her touch, he felt a sensation like pins and needles, spreading out from where her hands had vanished. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll find you. Now you must warn them. Go!”
The airlock door swung open and Sonner, James and Casey rushed out. James was holding what looked like a portable power generator, which he immediately began hooking up to the adjacent airlock door, which led inside the second Hunter Corvette. The sensation of pins and needles vanished, and Taylor glanced back, hoping for the chance to say goodbye to Satomi, but he knew she had already gone. And now he had to leave too.
Taylor shut his eyes and focused, and in a near instant he was back inside the deep space corridor, standing in front of the starlight door, which shimmered in the blackness like a lighthouse beacon. He ran through it, cutting off his connection to the Fabric and the CoreNet, and returning his consciousness to his simulant body. He hoped he was not too late to warn the others, but soon enough they would all find out.
SIXTEEN
Taylor opened his eyes. He was back in his quarters, lying on his combined bed and regeneration table, which was humming softly as its power systems wound down. There was always a moment of confusion and disorientation after returning to his simulant form after existing inside the Fabric, but this time the fogginess persisted for longer. Then he remembered Satomi’s warning and the imminent danger they were in, and jolted bolt upright, body stiff as a board. “Adra! She’s here, now!”
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, but as he rose to his feet, his silver eyes darkened and he fell forwards. For a moment, he seemed to lose consciousness and when his eyes focused again his face was pressed to the metal decking. There was no pain, but his head felt light, as if he’d walk
ed into a wall and was still mildly concussed.
He gingerly pushed himself off the deck and into a crouching position, hands planted firmly beside his feet to steady himself. The room was spinning, as if he was drunk, but without the queasiness that usually accompanied such extreme levels of inebriation. Damn, that last jaunt into the Fabric must have really taken it out of me, Taylor thought. This party trick of mine is bad for my health… He tried to shake himself out of his stupor, knowing that time was short. The others were already outside, and if Adra and her Adjutant arrived and took them by surprise, they could all be killed.
Tentatively, he rose to his full height, managing to fight the disorientation well enough to reach the door, which swung open as he approached. Leaning on the door frame for a second to allow the swirling sensation in his mind to subside he then staggered out into the main central corridor of the ship. And then he heard shots being fired; it was the distinctive whine of a plasma weapon.
“No!” he cried out loud, “I’m too late!” He scrambled along the corridor to the rear cargo bay as quickly as he could manage, before realizing his mistake and turning back. The airlock, you fool, they’re at the airlock! He ran back towards the junction to the primary airlock, but as he turned the corner he crashed into the wall and tumbled back to the deck. He yelled with frustration and forced himself upright, using the wall for support. His coordination was still all over the place, but he was beginning to regain his senses and was able to continue within a few seconds. More shots rang out along the corridor, except this time he heard the reassuring sound of an Earth Fleet sidearm firing. Hold on... Taylor urged, Just hold on...
Taylor reached the open airlock hatch and rushed out into the docking section. His fuzzy mind didn’t give a thought to his own safety, and he was confronted by the skirmish in full flow. Casey was crouched behind a stack of cargo containers, with a body slung over her shoulders, but its head was turned away and Taylor could not see who it was. James was closest to the hatch, pressed up behind a row of storage lockers, firing semi-blind towards the group of Hedalt at the other end of the room, while Sonner was also behind cover in the center of the foray, laying down suppressing fire. Taylor raised his gaze in the direction of her aim, and his keen simulant eyes were able to pick out four Hedalt in dark blue overalls, wielding what looked like engineering tools. But further back, taking cover behind a mechanized cargo loader, were two Hedalt officers. And despite his still slightly addled mind, Taylor recognized both without any difficulty; it was Adra, the military Provost, and her Adjutant, the soldier she called, Lux.