Bloodlines

by Richard Fox

  “The rest we had to get rid of later.”

  “Can’t very well run when your leg is falling off,” Knight said. He nodded to Shannon. “I managed to get word out before I passed out and she found me. Saved my life.”

  “And what?” Hale asked. “You just decided to leave the boys to their fate?”

  “Jesus, Hale, no, I’m not a monster,” Shannon said. “By the time I got Eric situated and stable, the feral Netherguard had wandered into Fite’s Valley and were feeding on the fish and rodents. Trying to get this gimp through that would’ve been suicide. It was shitty, I know. I felt bad about leaving them to themselves, but I couldn’t leave him to die.”

  “Fortunately, they survived without you, barely,” Hale said.

  “Can I see them?”

  “Eventually. Right now they’re still coming to terms with everything.” Hale paused, conflicted between asking his next question and not wanting to know the answer. “What happened to my brother? Why is he working for the Triumvirate?”

  “They took his family. His wife was pregnant. They locked her and their daughter into one of their stasis chambers, using them as leverage against him. He didn’t have much of a choice. I doubt he still does. Jared is their golden ticket. He’s the only thing keeping them in business right now, until they figure out another way to control their armies.”

  “Jared was married…I have a niece.” Hale’s face went stoic. “Either of you know how to work the doughboy tubes? You, Shannon, I know you have experience with procedural technology. You worked with some of my Strike Marines on the Crucible during the war.”

  Shannon shot him a questioning look, “I did?”

  Hale squeezed the bridge of his nose, feeling a migraine coming on. “A Shannon helped my Marines. Ibarra is still causing me headaches.”

  “We know how to work the doughboy producers,” Knight said. “The boss made sure we could handle any delicate task he might need done.”

  “What do you need…boss?” Shannon asked.

  Chapter 3

  Valiant’s plot cast flickering shadows across the bridge as the ship slipped through the debris field. Shattered hunks of hull plating drifted with sections of silvery-colored metal. The field of broken starships had expanded since the battle, forming a loose nebula to mark where so much death and destruction had marred the skies over Negev. Carson thought she saw a humanoid body drift between the blown out wreckage of a small destroyer.

  With the rest of her interior lights off, the hologram lit the pilots’ faces with a soft orange hue. They’d gone to silent running as they’d neared the planet, just in case any active ships remained.

  Carson leaned against Greer’s seat, looking though Valiant’s front viewport, in awe at the destruction around her. A cloud of dead ships hung in the void over the red planet, an alien graveyard. According to Valiant’s sensors, the debris field was some 200 kilometers across, the entire area filled with wrecked ships, jagged hull fragments, and alien corpses.

  “Look at that one,” Greer said, pointing to one of the large ships.

  The computer tagged it as an SI ship, but even without the tags, Carson would’ve been able to tell the difference. The ships belonging to the Sacred Intelligence had a streamlined look, their hulls sleek and arrow-shaped. The Ultari ships were more utilitarian, with clusters of sensors, weapons turrets, and some bulbous outcroppings that Carson couldn't identify.

  The frigate-sized SI ship had a shuttle-size rent in her armor and trailed an ever-expanding cloud of debris as it slowly rotated in the void. Greer slowed the Valiant, turning it so they could get a better look at the destroyed ship.

  “Those torpedoes really pack a punch, don’t they?” Greer said.

  Carson counted twenty small craters where energy beams had cut through the sleek, chrome hull of the ship. “Looks like all their weapons do.”

  “Guess we can count our blessings they decided to beat feet and not continue on to the colony.”

  “Count your blessings all you want,” Carson said. “I have a feeling that we’re not done with either of these groups yet. It doesn’t look like the engineering section was hit badly, mark it for future investigation, we can always come back and check it out. I’m going to get suited up. Let me know if anything crazy pops up.”

  “Define crazy,” Greer said.

  “Dealer’s choice.”

  Greer chuckled. “Well, I am a pilot, so...”

  “Just keep your eyes open.”

  Half an hour later, Carson was in her void suit, helmet cradled under one arm, her other arm propped on the back of Greer’s seat. West stood to her right, behind the co-pilot seat, where Oscar Lincoln was busy marking points of interest on his console for further study. The egg-heads back on Terra Nova would have months’ worth of data to pore through when they got back. Not to mention the technicians and scientists in Valiant’s bay already poring over the information in their makeshift lab.

  Danielle Scartucci stood off to the side, quietly observing. From her expression, Carson gathered being back here, even if it was just in orbit of her former prison, wasn’t sitting too well with the scientist. She wore a naval hazardous duty vac suit, lightly armored to survive a ship to ship fight and work in the void, and looked uncomfortable in it. The engineer had worked extensively on Ultari technology while enslaved on Negev, building the Triumvirate’s ship. She was the closest thing Terra Nova had to an expert on the aliens’ tech.

  They’d cataloged three SI ships and two Ultari that appeared to be relatively whole and another twenty-seven that were nothing more than charred and twisted metal. Deep sensor scans showed that one of the SI ships’ engines was still intact and functioning, emitting faint power levels, however could detect no signs of life.

  “That looks promising,” Lincoln said, nodding to the holo image of an SI ship rotating above the console. “The hull’s damaged in several places but should support a research team or two.”

  “I’ll get my team ready,” Danielle said.

  “Now hold on,” Carson said, holding up a hand. “No one goes anywhere until we’re sure the area’s clear of hostiles. Then the priority is search and rescue of any survivors. Period.”

  The scientist stopped mid-turn. “Chief, everything out here is dead. Days without power. Even our life pods won’t last that long. I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”

  “We shall see, Doctor,” Carson said. “We don’t know anything about either of these two races or the technology and until we’ve completed a full sweep or the area and determined that it’s safe, all civilian personnel will remain onboard the ship.”

  Danielle looked like she was about to argue, then appeared to think better of it. She nodded and returned to her position next to West.

  Silence fell over Valiant’s cockpit as they floated through the debris field. Messages flashed and sensor images continued to flash on screens as Valiant’s computers chewed through the data, tagging and identifying ships.

  A red light flashed on Lincoln’s console and he sat up. “Now that’s interesting.”

  Greer leaned over. “What you got?”

  “Looks like some kind of beacon,” the co-pilot said, fingers tapping. “Repeating sequence, starts over every thirty-five seconds. Computer’s still working on the translation, but I’d put money on an SOS.”

  “Which ship?” Carson asked.

  Lincoln tapped a button, and a sleek, arrow-shaped ship appeared, its hull drawn in orange wireframe. The large SI ship hung in the void at the outer edge of the battlefield, perilously close to Negev and its gravity well. By human standards, the ship could’ve been classified as a cruiser, and Carson wondered exactly how big the alien ships went. It didn’t matter of course; the colony fleet wouldn’t be able to stand up to even the smaller frigate-sized ships if it came to that.

  A holo-image of the cruiser flickered to life about the center console in front of Carson and slowly rotated in place, giving them a better picture of the dea
d ship. Three large craters had torn open the hull on the near side of the ship, exposing the cruiser’s interior to vacuum. At one end of the craters, a cylindrical ship, like a cigar, stuck out of the ship’s hull. Aside from the car-sized holes in the hull, the cruiser looked relatively intact.

  “Boarding craft,” Greer said.

  “Looks like four landed,” Carson said. “Only three left.”

  “Doesn’t make any sense,” Greer said. “All the rest of the Ultari fleet seemed to be hell bent on destroying the SI ships, not boarding them.”

  “Smash and grab?” West asked. “Strike Marines train for that. Get a team aboard a larger vessel and disable a key system, obtain intelligence, then get the hell out of there.”

  Carson nodded. “Their torpedoes were doing a fine enough job of destroying the SI ships. The Ultari sent boarders, so there must have been a damn good reason for it.”

  “It’s the biggest SI vessel we’ve located so far,” West said. “Might be a good place to start for something to salvage.”

  “I’m picking up minimal power signals,” Lincoln said. “The engines are off-line, but some systems seem to still be operational. There doesn’t appear to be any signs of life, but the ol’ girl’s sensors can’t detect everything.” He gave his armrest a pat.

  “At the very least, we might be able to get an idea of what the Ultari were after,” West said.

  Danielle leaned forward, hands on the back of Lincoln’s chair. “If you can get me a tap-connection into the ship’s systems, I might be able to download some of the core data.”

  “Its orbit is decaying,” Lincoln said, tapping on his console. “Estimate… four hours until it hits Negev’s atmosphere.”

  Carson pursed her lips, considering.

  “We won’t get another shot at it,” West said.

  Carson put a hand on Greer’s shoulder. “Stay frosty; we call for an emergency evac that means we needed to be off that wreck five minutes before we even hit the ‘oh crap’ button. Understand?”

  Greer nodded. “Got you, Chief.”

  “Get us as close as you can,” Carson said. “Those breach points should make for a good entry. Should be no problem for our suits’ grapples.”

  Greer looked back over her shoulder. “You sure you don’t want to Superman in again?”

  Carson grinned. “Maybe next time.” Carson turned to Danielle. “You’re coming with us.”

  “Sure.” Danielle frowned. “Soon as you’re sure it’s safe, I’ll bring my—”

  “No time to pussyfoot around.” Carson slapped her on the shoulder. “You’re on the breach team. Don’t worry; you don’t have to be the first one inside.”

  “Thank God for small favors,” Danielle muttered.

  ****

  Five minutes later, Carson stood next to Valiant’s cargo ramp, her team of Pathfinders standing a few feet away, void-suits sealed, and weapons ready. She couldn’t see their faces through the mirrored visors on their helmets, but they’d had their names stenciled to their uniforms, and after enough drills and rehearsals, she could tell her team by size and gait alone.

  An alert chimed in Carson’s helmet and Greer’s voice came through the comm. “Five meters, Chief.”

  “Roger that.” Carson tapped the ramp release. A flashing orange strobe changed to red and an alarm rang out as the ramp unlocked and began to lower. A force field, preventing Valiant’s atmosphere from venting violently into the void, glowed blue around the edges of the hatch.

  Exterior lights mounted on Valiant’s hull illuminated the alien ship. The sleek grey hull floated several meters away from the end of the ramp. A large jagged hole in the otherwise smooth skin appeared as the Valiant slid down the length of the ship. Shadows danced inside the deep crater as light reflected off broken and twisted pieces of metallic alloy.

  “Reminds me of the Midway,” West said over the IR.

  “The Midway?” Nunez asked. “I heard stories about that mission; made my skin crawl. Xaros killed the whole crew, right?”

  “Ship came through the Crucible, looked fine at first, then the hull broke apart into Xaros drones and wrecked the Ceres ship yards,” West said. “We would’ve lost more, but the Dotari had a fighter wing on standby that saved the jump gate and the rest of what we had on Ceres. I was on the S&R team that did the sweep of the Midway after the fight. Ghost ship. We found empty void suits, blood on the bulkheads. Not a single body. Fit with what we knew about how the Xaros fought with their disintegration technology, but knowing that didn’t take the edge off. I saw President Garrett—Admiral Garrett back then—leave the ship with his Ranger bodyguard, clutching Admiral Makarov’s empty vac suit. Never thought I’d see a flag grade officer look so…afraid.”

  “Eighth Fleet was lost with all hands,” Birch said. “Lot of good men and women died to buy Earth enough time to prep for the next invasion wave.”

  “Anyone have a happy story about ghost ships?” Nunez asked. “For Danielle’s sake. She looks terrified.”

  “I’m fine,” the engineer said, her voice cracking.

  “Okay, people,” Carson said. “We’re on the clock for this one. Search for survivors is priority one; gathering intel comes next. We’re going for the source of the energy emissions first. Anything else is a bonus. Keep your heads up and stay sharp. Pathfinders light the darkness!”

  Her team snapped to attention, shouting, “We are the torch!”

  Carson turned and lifted her hand. She fired the grappler, a heavy-duty magnetic piton attached to a gauntlet by a high-strength wire. It struck the alien ship’s hull and held firm, the HUD inside Carson’s helmet advising her she had a good lock.

  She moved down Valiant’s ramp, then pushed off into the void, retracting the grappler’s cable as she floated toward the gaping maw. The grav-linings in her boots adjusted her course slightly, centering her on the hole. At two meters, she fired her second grappler. It shot out from her other gauntlet, through the jagged hole, into the ship’s interior. It locked into place on the bulkhead and pulled Carson the rest of the way in, her first grappler automatically disengaging, retracting its recess.

  Carson touched down on the deck and engaged her boots. The grav-linings simulated a one-gee environment for the boots wearers, keeping her firmly attached to the deck. She unlocked her carbine from its mag-lock on her back and activated her suit’s lights. Two beams of light from emitters mounted on either side of her helmet cut through the ship’s dark corridor.

  “I’m in,” Carson said.

  “I’ve got a good signal on your beacon,” Greer said. “I’m getting some faint power readings from the bow; could be a containment field, might mean there is still atmo.”

  “Roger that,” Carson said, sweeping her light in both directions, fore and aft. Behind her, toward the ship’s aft section, Valiant’s lights illuminated the corridor through the two gaping holes gouged out of the ship’s hull. Shadows danced on the deck and bulkhead, revealing clusters of scorch marks along the ship’s interior.

  Past the jagged opening in the hull, Carson’s light reflected off the chrome surface of the remaining boarding craft, still wedged through the hull. A hatch on the side of the craft hung open, revealing a dark interior.

  Carson moved toward the craft, weapon up and ready. Her team landed one by one on the deck behind her, each acknowledging a safe landing as they touched down. She stopped a few feet away from the open hatch, lifting her weapon slightly, using the barrel light to illuminate the interior.

  A single body slowly rotated just inside the hatch, surrounded by balls of maroon liquid. Blood, Carson realized. A foot connected with one of the floating orbs of blood. It splattered into several smaller orbs, splashing against the bulkhead and spinning through the void.

  “Got a body,” Carson said, advancing.

  The corpse was dressed in all black; what looked like a void-suit was skin-tight and had several spikes sticking out from its forearms and calves and shoulders. Symbols, painted in re
d, covered its armored chest. Streaks, where the paint had run before drying, ran down the length of the torso, stopping where the waist armor folded over the abdominal area.

  Carson aimed her carbine’s light up as the corpse rotated, its head coming into view. The void helmet’s glass front was smashed, revealing the alien’s grey, lifeless face inside. The long, angled jaw and sunken eye sockets reminded Carson of the Netherguard.

  Nunez stepped up beside her and nudged the corpse’s foot with the barrel of his carbine, making it spin slightly faster. “Creepy.”

  “I’d like to take that back with us for autopsy,” Moretti said.

  Carson nodded. “We’ll grab it on the way out. Greer?”

  “Here, Chief.”

  “Keep this connection open. Are you receiving the data from our suits?”

  “Roger. Reading everyone’s signal five by five.”

  “Good. We’re going to head toward that power source, see if who can guide us there.”

  The team set off through the ship, Nunez at the point, West and Danielle bringing up the rear. As they made their way through the twisting corridors, signs of battle became more and more visible. Blast marks from energy weapons scarred the bulkheads, ceiling and deck. One section of bulkhead had been completely destroyed by an explosion, turning half of the corridor into a jumble of twisted metal.

  They came to a sealed hatchway covered in blast marks. The doors had raised symbols running up and down the door seam, though Carson had no idea what they meant. Two alien bodies floated above the deck, one dressed in the same black demon-looking armor as the one in the boarding craft. The other was a distinctly robotic frame; thin metal arms and legs connected to a cylindrical chassis. Its head was little more than a metal sphere with two dark lenses that obviously served as the thing’s eyes.

  “That look like a droid to anyone else?” Carson said.

  “Makes sense,” West said. “They called the other aliens the Sacred Intelligence. Might suggest that it’s a race of robots.”