“Last one,” said the Daklan, dragging the corpse away.
Baring his teeth at nobody, Recker turned to his console. He remembered the Ixidar’s statement that its batteries were at ten percent of maximum and until now, he’d hardly questioned how that could have happened, what with the Meklon being extinct. Besides, the Ixidar wasn’t one of the three Laws of Ancidium assigned to the Meklon spheres, so how its batteries went from zero to ten percent was a mystery Recker decided to investigate.
It didn’t take long.
“I’ve accessed the time stamps for the Extractor batteries,” said Recker. “They were at zero percent a week ago and in the last few hours they’ve been climbing in steps.”
“The Ixidar must have visited another planet before it arrived at Tokladan,” said Eastwood. “Maybe the Lavorix discovered another Meklon world and they extracted it before coming here.”
“That’s not what the time stamps say, Lieutenant.” Recker added up the numbers in his head. “The first injection into the batteries ties in with the Ixidar’s reported arrival at Tokladan.”
“The Daklan were losing people every time the planet was hit by the Extractor, sir. That could have topped up the batteries.”
“If a few thousand deaths were enough to fill ten percent of the Ixidar’s batteries, the hundreds of billions in the Meklon empire would have sustained the Lavorix’s war effort indefinitely, Lieutenant,” said Recker. “This is something else.”
“Damn,” said Eastwood when he came to the logical conclusion.
“What?” asked Montero.
“The Lavorix have partly filled their batteries without killing the Daklan,” said Recker. “They’ve figured out a way to extract life energy without the target dying.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Montero asked. “I mean, being extracted is bad, but it’s better than dying, right?”
Recker shook his head. “Not really, Corporal. If the Lavorix have worked out how to do a part-extraction of life energy, they’re going to sit on top of our worlds like parasites and drain us bit-by-bit. Maybe we’ll supply them with enough juice to fight back against the Kilvar. If they don’t need to kill us, they’ll never need to leave and we’ll be stuck in a repeated cycle of extractions, living in agony and not knowing if it’ll ever end.”
“Well that would suck,” Montero admitted. “So how come the Lavorix didn’t do this to the Meklon?”
“I don’t know,” said Recker. “I remember being told that in the first years of the Lavorix-Meklon wars, the extractions were limited and then it changed. Why that happened, I can only imagine it was because the Lavorix required progressively more life energy for the Ancidium. If a partial extraction works against the Daklan – maybe humans too – we may just be more resilient than the Meklon.” He swore as anger took hold of him. “Lucky us – we can give up more of our life energy before we fall down dead.”
“And after a few weeks of feeling like crap, we’d be all replenished and ready to be extracted again,” said Eastwood. “We’d be like self-recharging power supplies.”
“Screw that!” said Montero. “I’m nobody’s golden goose.”
“We either defeat these alien scumbags or you’d better start laying eggs, Corporal,” said Eastwood.
Montero burst out laughing and the sound of it made Recker’s anger dissipate. He exited the sub-menu where he’d located the battery data and decided to look again at the failure codes.
Lieutenant Eastwood saved him the effort. “I’ve isolated that control entity, sir, so we shouldn’t have anything to worry about when the critical systems start coming back online.”
“You’ll definitely be able to get those systems online?” asked Recker in relief.
Eastwood exhaled loudly, which normally indicated the beginning of a comprehensive explanation. “I’ve analysed some of the failure codes and I reckon the Gorgadar’s second particle beam destroyed the main control hardware unit. Now, there are secondary and tertiary units which should have kicked in automatically, but our first particle beam destroyed the central diagnostic hardware, which would normally identify onboard faults and re-route. I guess you could call it a design flaw, except the Lavorix likely never anticipated encountering a weapon that could slice all the way through something as big as the Ixidar. Either way, it was shit luck for those six-armed murdering alien bastards.”
It took Recker a few seconds to consider Eastwood’s summation. “On an HPA warship, you’d be able to type in a few commands and the secondary control hardware would take over.”
“That’s right, sir.” Eastwood smiled broadly. “And that’s exactly what I’m able to do here.”
It was great news, though Recker didn’t want to get too excited just yet. “Will we be in command of a fully-functioning warship at the end of it?”
“Not exactly, sir – the Ixidar already told you it’s lost most of its data arrays. It’s possible but unlikely that something critical and unforeseen was held on them. What’s more likely is that some other important hardware modules controlling various onboard systems were destroyed or damaged, but I can’t tell you which ones on account of the diagnostic hardware being out of action.”
“In other words, we have to plug in the Christmas tree to see which lights have gone out?”
“That’s one way of putting it. Do you want me to switch to the secondary controller?”
Recker was taken by a sudden reluctance. Having felt the weight of passing time for the entire journey here, now he was fearful of making an error because he gave the order too soon.
I’ve never backed down and I’m not about to start now.
“Corporal Montero, when the switchover is done, you’ll be in charge of sensors and comms on a warship capable of destroying entire fleets. Are you ready?”
The earlier humour was gone and all Recker saw in Montero’s face was the steel and determination of the soldier she was.
“I’m ready, sir.”
“Lieutenant Eastwood, bring us back online.”
“Switching over…done.”
Immediately, the rows of warning lights on Recker’s top panel and on his status screen changed to purple. Deep within the Ixidar, the immense ternium kickstarter modules thudded like dead giants striking the insides of their coffin lids. The propulsion started up with a shuddering cough that sent a vibration through every surface. Recker placed his hands on the controls.
“Corporal Montero?”
“Sensors coming online, sir.”
Recker watched the blank screens along the forward bulkhead and wondered why he still felt so unsettled.
Chapter Ten
The Ixidar was fitted with dozens of main arrays and they came online all at once, too many individual feeds for Recker to make sense of. Most showed only darkness.
“I’ve located the Gorgadar,” said Montero. “It’s still following and at the same distance as before.”
She focused one of the arrays on the other warship. The Gorgadar looked both technologically advanced and mean as hell at the same time, like a ruthless killer in a tailored suit.
“Request a channel,” said Recker. “And link us into the internal comms whenever you’re ready.”
“Lieutenant Burner has accepted the request.”
“Put him on the open channel.”
“I’ll have that for you in just a moment, sir.”
A few seconds later, Burner’s voice emerged from the bridge speakers.
“You’re on the Ixidar’s bridge, sir?”
“We are,” Recker confirmed. “Lieutenant Eastwood discovered the main cause of hardware failure and he’s switched us onto a secondary controller.”
“Is the Ixidar fully operational?”
“Lieutenant Eastwood is monitoring our status. I wanted to check the comms.”
“I’ll remain in the channel, sir.”
“Thank you.” Recker half-turned. “Lieutenant Eastwood, what progress?”
“Our propulsion is onl
ine, but it’s only offering a fraction of its maximum output. Something’s tapping into the modules.”
“The energy shield?” asked Recker. “The reserve gauge is at ten percent and climbing.”
“That might be it, sir. You should check the weapons systems from your console.”
Recker did so. “The housings for the energy cannons are loading up as well. It seems they dumped their charge when everything shut down.”
“We might have to wait for everything to run its course, sir.”
“Any idea how long it’ll take?”
“No, sir. Given the damage, I’m not surprised at what’s happening.”
Recker’s impatience got the better of him and he placed his hands on the controls while he inspected the instrumentation readouts. A couple of the purple status lights had turned blue, which he guessed indicated progress, though how much progress, he had no idea.
A push of the control bars produced an angry, irregular grumble from the propulsion and the Ixidar accelerated reluctantly to seven hundred kilometres per second, leaving the Gorgadar behind.
“Going somewhere, sir?” asked Burner on the open channel.
“Just testing, Lieutenant,” said Recker, dropping to four hundred kilometres per second. On the sensors, the Gorgadar came back into focus and Aston matched velocity again.
Another purple light turned blue and Recker dared ask himself what the HPA-Daklan alliance might do with two Laws of Ancidium under their control. Perhaps they would be enough to drive away the Ancidium. Perhaps.
“Oh crap,” said Burner.
“Don’t give me oh crap, Lieutenant,” said Recker. “What’s wrong?”
“The Gorgadar’s sensors have detected an inbound particle wave, midway between here and Tokladan, sir. You are not going to believe the magnitude of it.”
Recker’s body gave him another shot of adrenaline and his heart thudded painfully in his chest. He suddenly knew the cause of the trepidation he’d felt on the shuttle and ever since. “The Ancidium.”
“It must be, sir,” said Burner. “I don’t know how to interpret these readings, but it’s going to like nothing we’ve encountered before.”
The timing couldn’t have been worse and Recker wondered if this was down to bad luck, or if the Ixidar had managed to get out an FTL distress comm before its hardware failed.
“Tell Commander Aston I want her to take the Gorgadar away from here, Lieutenant,” said Recker.
Aston entered the channel. “Negative, sir. We can’t leave you behind.”
“It’s too late for that, Commander. The Ixidar isn’t ready to fight and neither is the Gorgadar. Not against what’s coming.”
“What about you, sir?”
“The Ixidar is lost anyway. We can’t lose the Gorgadar as well. Go! I’m giving you a direct order, Commander.”
“Damnit, sir!”
“The Ancidium is here!” yelled Burner. “Holy crap – there’s no way we can beat it!”
“Commander Aston!” shouted Recker. “Now!”
The Gorgadar vanished from the sensors as if it had never existed and Recker hoped it had escaped the Ancidium’s notice.
“Lieutenant Eastwood, how long?” he asked.
“Same answer as last time, sir,” said Eastwood.
Recker reached for the controls, knowing already it would be too little to get away from what was coming. “Obtain a sensor lock, Corporal Montero,” he said, his voice calm.
“I’m trying, sir.” Montero swore a few times. “Got it!”
On the feed, Recker saw a tiny dot, a long way from the Ixidar. “Zoom and enhance,” he ordered.
Montero didn’t get the chance. The grey speck disappeared and Recker knew exactly where it was heading.
“Find it,” he said.
The Ancidium didn’t need finding. It appeared five thousand metres off the Ixidar’s portside flank, like a sheer cliff of the darkest alloy, which stretched on and on in every direction like it would never end. There was something about it – a distortion that Recker couldn’t quite pin down. It seemed to him the material of the Lavorix spaceship vibrated ever so slightly, making it appear as if it were charged with an unleashed energy of such potency that it could destroy stars and planets alike.
Montero worked to adjust the feeds, but the Ancidium was so close that the Ixidar’s sensors didn’t have the angle to view the enemy craft in its entirety. The best Recker could guess was that it was slightly tapered at the nose and the facing flank curved as it rose, blocking his view of the upper sections.
Now that the Ancidium was here as a tangible thing crawled out of the shadows, Recker’s fear – the fear he’d tried to deny, yet had clung to him always – fell away like a rot-scented burial shroud. In the moment of it happening, Recker was confronted by the knowledge of how deeply the claws of that fear had buried themselves within him, sliding into his unconscious mind with such perfect sharpness that he hadn’t realised until this very moment how much it had changed him.
With his opponent revealed, he felt the terror no longer and the relief was such that he felt a rush of elation at his freedom.
“The sensors estimate the Ancidium is twelve hundred kilometres in length, and five hundred in height.” said Montero. “It has matched our velocity exactly.”
“That’s why the Kilvar have never located the Lavorix’s home world,” said Recker. “Because they don’t have one. They’re all onboard one massive spaceship, free to go wherever they want at a moment’s notice.”
“Sir, what are your orders?” asked Montero, her steeliness from earlier cracking beneath the strain.
“Hold steady, Corporal.” Recker knew what the Ancidium was here for. “The Lavorix have come for their warship.”
“What will they do?”
“Check your console.”
“There’s a channel request from the Ancidium.” Montero’s eyes were wide. “Should I accept?”
“Hell no, Corporal. The less the enemy know, the better it’ll be for us.”
“What will they do if we don’t respond?”
Recker had a couple of ideas, one of which he was certain would become reality. “They’ll either Gateway us to a deep space construction and repair yard somewhere, or…” he smiled, “…they’ll bring us inside.”
“Scanning for hull doors,” said Montero at once. “It’s like the sensors don’t want to focus properly.”
“What readings are they giving you?” asked Recker.
“I’m sorry, sir, I can’t answer that.”
“That’s fine, Corporal. I’m not disappointed if there’s something you don’t know.”
“There’s plenty of that, sir.” Montero straightened. “Bay doors,” she said. “They’re opening.”
A thirty-thousand-metre square slab of metal directly opposite the Ixidar sank deep into the Ancidium’s hull and then dropped out of sight into a recess between the layers of armour plating. Forty kilometres inside, Recker saw another door like the first.
“What happens next?” asked Montero.
“They’ll take over our controls,” said Recker.
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a short line of text appeared on one of the command console displays.
Ancidium> Control assumed.
“We didn’t even get a say in that,” said Eastwood.
Recker nodded. “Find out how it happened, Lieutenant. Most importantly, find out if you can revoke the Ancidium’s control and prevent it taking over again. Look but don’t touch.”
“I’d like to think we can get out of this, sir, but…”
“Don’t give up, Lieutenant. We’re deeper in the crap than we’ve been before, but that doesn’t mean there’s no chance of escape.”
“We just need a planet-sized shovel to dig our way out of it, sir. I know that.”
Holding velocity, the Ancidium guided the Ixidar towards the bay entrance. In seconds, the much smaller warship was completely within the tunnel. The Ancidiu
m’s controller rotated the Ixidar so that one of its faces was parallel to the inner door and brought it so close that Recker wondered if the protruding disintegration cannon would impact. It did not. The outer door rose and its motors drove it into position, sealing the Ixidar inside.
Operating with computer efficiency, the inner doors dropped into their own recess and the Ixidar entered another tunnel with another door.
“It’s like the Ixidar’s docking procedure, scaled up a few thousand percent,” said Eastwood. “They must be taking us to the repair yard. It won’t take them long to realise we’re onboard.”
“No it won’t,” Recker agreed. “Lieutenant Montero, shut down the internal comms and security monitoring.”
“That’ll take me a minute to figure out, sir. I could stick some chewing gum over the bridge lens if you prefer?”
“Nice idea, but the life sign readings will be harder to cover up.”
“Damn,” said Montero, staring at the comms console.
“As quickly as you can,” said Recker calmly. “Our lives depend on it.”
The second door closed and the third one opened. As soon as there was enough clearance, the Ixidar started moving once more and this time it entered a space unlike anything Recker had ever seen before. He stared at the feed, wondering at the scale of the challenge facing not just the occupants of the Ixidar, but the HPA and the Daklan as well.
Chapter Eleven
“This is a holding bay not a construction yard,” said Recker.
“A holding bay full of Lavorix warships,” added Eastwood. “A crapload of Lavorix warships.”
“How are you getting on with those internal monitors, Corporal?”
“I’ve located the off switch, sir. Won’t this make the enemy suspicious?”
“Maybe, but it’ll be much better than them knowing for definite we’re here.”
“The internal comms and security are disabled, sir.”
“Keep watching and make sure the Ancidium doesn’t switch them back on.”
“It can do that?” asked Montero.
“Not anymore,” said Eastwood with satisfaction. “I’ve routed the internal comms back into the failed primary controller. We had to come onboard to re-route, so there should be no way for the Ancidium to change it remotely.”
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