by Rachel Aukes
“Who the hell was it?” Finn asked.
“Just a second.” Sylvian ran through her screens. “The Gamma Ray. It’s crewed by the Headeys.”
“Damn it. Not them,” Finn said.
Throttle grimaced. “The Headeys were good marshals.” The Headeys were a husband-and-wife team who had helped train Throttle and Finn. It hit her hard, knowing it was them who’d made the suicide run. But it also didn’t surprise her. The Headeys had been role models who actually seemed to believe in everything the GP stood for.
“Maybe they ejected in time,” Sylvian offered.
“You can’t eject in jump speed,” Finn said softly.
“Oh, right,” Sylvian said, even softer.
Throttle started to notice the Swarm making another mass movement. Her gaze narrowed as she saw them form up into what looked like squadrons. “Get ready, Finn,” Throttle cautioned. “The Swarm are up to something.”
“Tell the bastards to bring it,” he said.
She frowned. “They’re turning away.” The battle had never been an even match. If Rusty and Eddy hadn’t rammed the acid-filled Gauntlet into Vantage Core, the Swarm would’ve decimated the fleet. Hell, even after the planet was destroyed, the Swarm could’ve destroyed the fleet. That they were retreating spoke of the importance of Vantage Core to them.
As a unit of probes assembled, they flashed away at light speed.
“Sons of bitches are getting away,” Finn said and fired at the departing Swarm.
“They’re running.” Throttle chortled and turned to the other two on the bridge. “They’re really running. Look at the other black holes.”
She motioned to where the Swarm were massing and entering the black holes. Several clusters entered the hole leading to Ross, but the majority left via the other black holes.
Finn leaned back in his seat. “We won.”
Throttle smiled. “Go tell Eddy and Rusty. They’ll be happy to know that they’re the heroes of the day.”
Finn’s expression soured.
Throttle’s features fell. “What?”
Finn swallowed. “Eddy made it back.” He paused. “Only Eddy.”
“Oh. Poor Eddy.” Sylvian’s eyes welled with tears. She unbuckled her belt and ran off the bridge.
Throttle and Finn shared a look before they each turned back to their panels. She’d known that Rusty and Eddy’s mission was incredibly risky, but she’d hoped—that damn hope was starting to mess her up. She gritted her teeth and read the messages coming through, thankful for something to keep her busy for the next while.
“We’re switching gears to search and rescue and then repairs after that,” she said without expression, then turned back to Finn. “Help me find some people we can save.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Vantage Core’s Moon-Two replenishment center directed the retreat, while the disconnection from Vantage Core and its sister moon felt like it’d been suddenly thrust naked and alone into a blizzard. Without the guidance of Vantage Core, the probes floundered, unfamiliar in directing themselves after a lifetime of following Core’s commands. The moon stepped in to assist, but it was a pale replacement. It pulled together pods of probes and instructed them as to which beltway they should take. The moon directed most pods to the system furthest from human activity, to give the probes time to repair themselves. Meanwhile, probes were getting slaughtered while the moon watched.
It couldn’t travel through any of the beltways like the probes could. It was too large, and its propulsion systems provided only the most minimal of movement to stay aligned with Vantage Core. As soon as it finished relaying instructions to every probe in Vantage system, the moon took a brief moment to look over the needless devastation. Vantage Core, Moon-One, and seventy-four probes were dead. Pieces of debris floated around the system as haunting reminders of the day’s massacre.
The human fleet had surprised Vantage. They hadn’t believed humans could harm Vantage Core, but their eyes were now open. Vantage would now pursue the human threat, as they should’ve done centuries earlier. At least the Leviathans would ensure retribution for the lives lost on this day.
The moon did not know how many more human ships carried superacid, so it had to move quickly. The damage to its docking bay prevented probes from reaching it to acquire the knowledge stores, so there was nothing that could be saved. Any technology must be destroyed, whether by the humans or by Vantage, it didn’t matter as long as the humans did not acquire anything of value.
The moon did not want to burn like its comrades. It might be weak, but it preferred to take the easier way out. Within its core, it held copies of all the knowledge Vantage had accumulated through the centuries. While the knowledge existed in other moons in other systems, it still felt like a terrible loss. It initiated the self-destruct sequence with a deep sadness.
Its fate was sealed, but at least it helped some of its brethren survive to fight another day.
Chapter Forty-Five
As soon as the last moving Swarm probe departed the Swarm system, Chief relayed search-and-rescue orders across the fleet, with the exception of three formation groups. At least half of the Strike fleet was down, either damaged or destroyed, and he hoped that many could still be saved. Their victory had come at a devastating cost. They’d stopped the Swarm threat at the source, and they’d hunt down the remaining probes, but the people of Ross system would forever bear the scars of the losses they’d suffered today.
To the three remaining formation groups, he directed them to the remaining Swarm moon. It had no photon cannons, not even projectile weapons, which made it easy prey. They would destroy it, eventually, but first, Chief intended to learn everything he could about the Swarm, and he suspected the computer system behind that size would be a font of information.
Now that the battle was done, he opened a communication channel with the leaders of the three groups. “Good work out there today,” he began. “Now that the Swarm have turned tail and run, I want to gather as much intel as possible on that one remaining moon. Marshal Horn, I want your group to recon the moon and see if you can’t find a computer. Chances are, it’ll look like a metal orb, and all cables will lead to it. Marshal Lindsey and Marshal Brenton, your groups are to provide aerial support. Take out any probes or Stingers that come out. If it looks like the moon has a defense system of its own, get out of there and report back. We’ve lost enough friends for one day.”
“Understood, Chief,” Horn replied, and the other two group leaders then replied with their acknowledgment.
He monitored their approach to the moon from his seat on the Whirlwind. They traveled slowly to avoid debris. Every several seconds, Chief looked at video feeds of the search and rescue mission underway. There was so much wreckage spread across the black battlefield, it was impossible to see if any probes still lurked, waiting to spring a kamikaze attack. He doubted it—he’d seen many times throughout the battle that probes self-destructed when they were damaged. He suspected they had some kind of programming that caused them all to behave the same way. But maybe it was because they were all just computers—or maybe even just drones connected to a single, massive computer. That would explain how they seemed to behave in highly similar fashions.
He’d seen no individuality among the Swarm, which reminded him of how colonies of certain insects behaved more so than any mammalian, reptilian, or avian species. He knew that he couldn’t anthropomorphize the Swarm—if he did and tried to develop strategies using that line of thinking, the Swarm would surely win. Because the Swarm bore no human traits, at least none that Chief had seen so far.
No, that wasn’t true. He’d seen the potential for humanity in the Swarm computer that had been on board the Javelin. Whether that was because it’d been reprogrammed or if the Swarm were adept at mimicry, he’d never know. The computer had sacrificed itself, along with Specialist Edwards, to destroy the planet. It’d died easily, much like the probes that had self-destructed in battle that day to prevent
capture.
They self-destructed…
Chief’s gaze shot back to the screen showing the three formation groups and the ominous moon before them. He grabbed the comm channel. “Break away from the moon. Break away. Do not proceed—”
The moon exploded in a massive fireball. While the fire was instantly smothered, a wall of debris shot out as deadly cannonballs in all directions. Horn’s formation group was swallowed instantly. A second later, the other two groups were overtaken by the wave.
Chief winced, and he fired a warning message to the rest of the fleet: Beware of debris wave from moon. Perform evasive maneuvers as needed.
Hank pulled the Whirlwind away, and Chief clenched his eyes closed. He never should’ve sent those three groups in so soon. His hunger for understanding the Swarm had gotten in the way of better judgment. The Swarm had taken far too many of his people today, and he swore that he’d never give them an easy kill ever again.
Chapter Forty-Six
“I’ve got a pod three hundred meters at our four o’clock high,” Finn said as he flagged the pod on the grid.
“I see it. I’ll maneuver into position once the blast wave is past us,” Throttle said. The wave of debris was easy enough to see. Wreckages warbled and moved as it moved through them. Fortunately for Throttle, the ships and probes before her took the brunt of the shooting debris, but there was so much, she still had to bank and make several tight turns to avoid dangerous sharp chunks of metal moving at high speeds.
Once the space around her calmed, she took a breath to relieve tension. She then tapped the intercom. “Eddy, get ready to launch the bots to bring a pod on board.”
“I’m connecting to them now,” Eddy’s voice came through. “Whoa! They’re crazy again! Help!”
Finn was out of his seat and ran to the cargo hold, where three bots were attacking Eddy. The hardware specialist was already on the ground, bleeding, and curled in a fetal position. Finn pulled out his blaster and shot the bots, sending two flying away from Eddy. The third turned and went after Finn. He shot it, and it was knocked away, but all three bots slowed, found their balance, and launched another attack.
Finn continued to fire at them, knocking them back, until he reached Eddy. “Can you stand?” he asked while he fended off the bots.
Eddy rolled onto his knees and gave a weak nod. Blood flowed from a slice in his thigh and multiple defensive burns on his arms. He tried to stand. Finn caught him as he collapsed.
“I’ve got you,” Finn said. He continued to fire at the bots as he dragged Eddy to the nearest control panel. There, he fired at the bots whenever they came close while he pressed Eddy against the wall. Finn grabbed onto a tie-down bar. He paused shooting long enough to press the emergency venting button. Both airlocks opened, and all atmosphere was sucked from the cargo hold. The bots tumbled out into space. Finn held Eddy tight between him and the wall. Freezing wind sucked at Finn, and his ears felt like they were going to explode. He slammed the butt of his blaster on the button, and the airlocks immediately closed.
The suction was gone, but they had no air to breathe, even as the environmental systems blasted air into the hold. Finn dragged Eddy with him to the door that led to the hallway. He opened the door and they tumbled through. Finn closed the door behind him. Both sucked in fresh gasps of air.
“What’s happening back there?” Sylvian asked over the intercom.
When Finn could see straight again, he grabbed a first aid kit off the wall and opened it as he scanned the limp Eddy for injuries. He grabbed a spray coagulant and tore open Eddy’s pants to reveal a deep gouge, likely accomplished by the bot with a saw. He sprayed the coagulant on the wound. The bleeding slowed, then stopped. Eddy was awake, but so distant that he seemed catatonic.
For the first time since meeting Eddy, Finn worried about the engineer. Eddy was taking Rusty’s death hard, and the bots—the last extension of Rusty—had just tried to kill him. Something like that could sent a mentally fragile person over the ledge. Eddy was mentally fragile on a good day, and today was certainly not a good day.
Finn squeezed Eddy’s shoulder before he pushed to his feet and tapped the intercom. “The bots went crazy again. They hurt Eddy. He’ll be okay, but he lost some blood. Sylvian, look after Eddy, and I’ll spacewalk to the pod.”
He heard running footsteps a second later. He looked to see Sylvian approach. Her eyes were wide with fear. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said. Still, she ran and embraced him. He savored the warmth. Even a few seconds exposed to space was enough to chill someone through the bones.
She looked up into his eyes, and her caring expression had a bigger effect than any physical comfort. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and he still found it hard to believe that she cared for him. He never understood that. He was a soldier who’d been in the field too long. He’d killed too many innocents, even though everything he’d done was to protect the lives of his fellow soldiers. But somewhere along the way he’d developed a knack for killing. He even came to enjoy the pureness of the act: 1. Identify bad guy, and 2. Kill bad guy. And he knew that was something that made him broken. No normal person should enjoy the act of killing.
For reasons Finn couldn’t comprehend, Sylvian didn’t seem to care about the things he’d done before he met her. He remembered asking her why she agreed to go out with him again after she learned of his past. Her response had been simple. “Because you’re redeemable.” He didn’t believe it, still didn’t believe it, but she did, and that was all that mattered. From the moment she voiced those words, he’d promised himself that he would always do the right thing, no matter what, to make her statement a reality. Those words had become his goal. But he found out that was easier said than done, especially with a blaster in his hand.
Throttle’s voice came over the intercom. “We’re coming up on the pod.”
Finn reluctantly pulled away from his wife. “Here, I’ll help you get Eddy to his bunk.”
The pair walked Eddy to his bed and helped him lie down.
Sylvian frowned as she ran her hands over the engineer. “Eddy, are you okay?”
“He will be,” Finn said. “But you’d better run a full scan to be safe.” He turned to go.
“Be careful out there,” she said.
“Always,” he said and jogged to the quarters he shared with Sylvian.
He donned his chime suit as quickly as he could and clipped his blasters onto the suit’s holsters. He headed back to the cargo hold. There, he grabbed the remaining bots, still asleep in their docks. He carried them to the airlock and closed the inner airlock door behind him.
He reported in through his helmet. “I’m leaving the Javelin now.”
“I’ll keep an eye on you,” Throttle said.
When the airlock depressurized, he opened the outer airlock door. He flung the bots out of the airlock, and the lifeless orbs tumbled away from the Javelin. His head panged at seeing the last extensions of Rusty float off into the black. He then reached around the outside of the hull and grabbed two tether lines. He connected both to his suit, and he pushed off from the ship, using his suit’s propulsion to navigate to the pod.
The debris field went on farther than he could see. Ships and probes were scattered everywhere. Tiny bits of metal and plastic floated around him. Most debris wasn’t drifting too quickly, and he hoped that none would hit him hard enough to pierce his suit. He maneuvered toward the pod. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned just in time to avoid colliding with a body. The man wore a marshal’s uniform, though Finn didn’t recognize him. He looked uninjured. He had likely been sucked out into the void through a hull breach. His eyes and mouth were open in a silent scream, and his arms were reaching out for a savior that never came.
“May you find peace,” Finn said quietly, and he pressed on toward the pod.
It was a small pod, holding a capacity of no more than three or four crew members. He could see them t
hrough the clear window that encircled the pod. Five people had managed to squeeze in there, which meant that the air processors wouldn’t generate enough air.
“I’m approaching the pod now,” Finn reported, and he heard a double-click on the intercom, noting Throttle had heard him.
He was within ten meters of the pod when shapes flew past him. He froze. Three Stingers had approached and came to a stop over the escape pod. He’d believed that the Swarm had all retreated after their planet was hit—he was wrong. The people inside began writhing and twisting as though they could save themselves by getting behind one of their friends.
A red light emitted from one of the Stingers as it scanned the pod’s contents. A second later, all three Stingers opened fire.
The people inside didn’t stand a chance. Finn could practically hear their screams in his head. The pod was broken into pieces, and the occupants—what was left of them—floated away.
“Finn, what’s happening out there?” Throttle asked.
“Stingers found the pod,” he said. As soon as he spoke the words, the Stingers turned to him. One zoomed over to him. He froze.
“Finn, are you okay?” Throttle asked.
He didn’t breathe, let alone move.
“Finn, damn it, talk to me.”
When he could hold his breath no longer, he gasped and opened his eyes. He frowned, then looked around him. The Stinger had disappeared, along with its pals. After another sweep to convince himself they were gone, he savored the motion of breathing. The Stingers seemed to detect targets through motion and sound, because if they’d scanned him, they would’ve detected body heat and a heartbeat. He noted that piece of information before he spoke. “I’m fine. The Stingers got the pod. I’m coming back on board.”