Weapons of War (35 page)

The ship had evaded them the first time, sneaking around the fortress to get ahead and begin the chase. He knew Gr'el wouldn't allow that to happen again. The pur'dahm would stand his ground, positioning the fortress so that the human ship would have no choice but to smash right into it.
 

The ship's commander was smart. He had escaped them twice already. He had to be expecting that this was the case.
 

Tea'va stared out at the scene, trying to think like the humans. A starship with no weapons and no ability to slip, being chased by an enemy with superior numbers and firepower. A decision to turn around and head directly into the jaws of the gur'uhm. If he assumed that the commander knew he would not be able to circumvent the fortress again, what could he guess that such a commander would do?

A human starfighter rocketed past his viewport again, trailing three gi'shah. The second starfighter was coming up with another gi'shah behind him. They were so close that Tea'va could see the pilots of the human ships. One was old, the other young. They approached one another, the older one shooting at the younger one. Not at. Below. The gi'shah giving chase was hit. So was the older human, his ship vanishing in a small fireball and spitting debris away. The younger pilot followed up the attack by turning his starfighter in an unbelievable maneuver, spraying each of the gi'shah, destroying one and disabling the others.

That one had to be the Heil'shur.
 

Tea'va ran along the corridor, heading for the nearest transport beam while keeping an eye on the battle. The young human's fighter burst away again, and this time, there were no gi'shah to follow.
 

Why had he come to engage them so close to the fortress, while the others were staying back to protect the larger ship?

He had a feeling he knew. But could the human starship survive the journey?

He made it to the transport beam, taking it down to one of the decks that adjoined the hangar. Immediately, he could hear the sound of gunfire coming from inside. The Heil'shur was in the fortress, using the fighter's cannons on any of the clones that remained in the hangar.

That was where he decided to go. He turned the corner at the same time a squad of clones did. They stood only a meter apart for a moment, both taken by surprise. Tea'va recovered first, his plasma quickly dispatching the unprepared group of clones. He continued down the corridor, over the top of the hangar and to the control pod that hung above the space. He opened the hatch, shooting the drumhr he caught trying to escape and then descending into the pod. He could see the Heil'shur's fighter clearly now, on the ground and facing away from him.
 

He looked out past the hangar and into space. He could see the starship from his position. It was beaten and battered. One of the nacelles had already been destroyed. It was coming this way. He was sure of it. The hangar was large enough to house the human ship but just barely. There would be no way to stop the momentum in time, no way to come to a smooth stop. If the ship did enter, it was going to collide. The shielded lek'shah could survive a blow like that. Unless the human ship had a similar shield to absorb some of the force, there was no way that it could.
 

He glanced down at the Heil'shur's fighter, resting on the floor of the abandoned hangar. He could almost see the top of the pilot's head clearly from his position. He was a human. A regular human. Nothing exceptional. And yet, he was a worthy adversary. A human who had proven he was as skilled as a bek'hai. Most of the pur'dahm believed it impossible; that it wasn't the skill of the Heil'shur, but the failure of those that had faced him. Tea'va had seen him more than any of the others. He knew they were wrong.
 

The fighter's thrusters fired, and it began to slide along the floor on a small set of skids, headed back to space. Tea'va looked down at the controls. An electromagnetic shield kept the atmosphere out, but the hangar also had lek'shah doors that were normally closed for slipspace travel. He could trigger the command to close the doors. He could seal the Heil'shur in and the human starship out. He could effectively end the resistance for good.

He hesitated, finding the human starship once more. He was caught by surprise when the fortress' main plasma cannon fired, bathing the ship in bright light.
 

The plasma paused, a sudden impenetrable darkness spreading from the bow. Tea'va watched in amazement, his mouth dropping open as the plasma poured into the darkness and disappeared. Then the light grew too bright to see beyond, the plasma washing over the human ship. Tea'va couldn't breathe. He couldn't move.
 

The remains of the attack passed over the ship.

It was still coming his way.

It was impossible. Completely impossible. The plasma beam was phase modulated. It would have torn a hole into a fortress if it had struck one. Not only were the humans alive, they weren't even hit.

They hadn't just reverse-engineered the technology. They had improved it.

He put his hand over the terminal, ready to close the hangar doors. It would be so easy to shut them out. To let them slap harmlessly against the outside of the ship. Shields or no shields, they would never get in that way.

Gr'el had turned on him. Zoelle had turned on him. Even the Domo'dahm had turned on him, shunning him for being too human while at the same time asking the bek'hai to accept their evolution and the inclusion of human traits. He owed them nothing. He owed the bek'hai nothing. They had made him into a hybrid freak and then disregarded him for his advancements. They had used him and then cast him aside.

The humans were a different story. If they made it onto the ship, they would need help to control it. They would need help to understand it and to make it function. They would come to depend on him, and that was something that he could use. Not only to get revenge on Gr'el but to strike back at the Domo'dahm and turn the course of his misfortune.
 

He lifted his hand away, watching as the fighter slid out of the hangar, through the shield and into space. The starship was drawing near, coming right at him, ready to force its way into the fortress. He scrambled from the control room, climbing out and running back toward the transport beam. He needed to get down to the base level. He would have one good opportunity to make this work.

He was halfway there when the impact came. He could sense it before he felt it, the lek'shah phasing as it was struck. Then the shockwave came, powerful enough that the entire fortress groaned in pain, substantial enough that it knocked him off his feet. He stayed on his hands and knees for a moment, waiting to see if the blow was enough to destroy them. When there was no sign of critical failure, when the ship maintained both power and life support, he rose once more and continued his run.

The bek'hai had used him. He would use the humans, first for revenge, and then to regain control.
 

Then he would end them all for good.

Theodore looked up. Smoke was filling the bridge, the equipment sparking and shorting, strained beyond its limits at the impact. His chest hurt where the emergency straps had dug into it, reminding him that he had nearly been strained beyond his limit.
 

Nearly, but not quite.
 

The ship still had emergency power. He had no idea how. It was some kind of miracle in itself.

"Maggie, you there?" he said, coughing.
 

"Yes, General," the computer replied, oblivious to their state.

"How's the atmosphere outside?"

"Eighty percent oxygen, fifteen percent nitrogen. Other components include water vapor, argon, helium, and an unidentified gas."

It was breathable, as he suspected. That was good enough. "Patch me in with Colonel Graham."

"Yes, General."

"Colonel," Theodore said. "Status report."

"A little shaken, General," Graham replied. "We're ready to move."

"Do it. Secure the perimeter. We'll meet you outside."

"Maggie, sound the evac." He paused to cough again. "Everybody okay up there?"

A round of affirmatives greeted him.
 

"We need to get off this thing. Follow along behind me, make sure you grab a gun on the way out. If they're gone before you get there, stay with the people who are armed."

"Yes, sir," the crew replied.

Theodore unstrapped himself, and then transferred into his chair. Colonel Choi appeared beside it.

"Can you get the locks for me, Colonel?" he asked.

She bent down to release the chair from the floor. The rest of the bridge crew was assembling in front of them. He counted heads, happy to see they were all up and about.

"Stay alert. We made it this far, but we haven't won a damn thing yet."

He turned the chair, rolling it from the bridge and out into the corridor. This part of the ship was vacant; the personnel already shuffled to prepare for the incursion. They had managed to survive the crash landing on the alien ship; now they needed to find a way to gain control of it. The Dread used clones for everything, so there had to be a means for a human to pilot it.
 

And if a human could pilot it, then he damn well could.

The corridors were hazy, and the smell of burning wires and metal was thick in the air. The emergency lighting cast a shadow of light along the haze, which would have made the Magellan eerie if it weren't so familiar. Theodore cursed as they came across the body of one of the crew, who hadn't managed to buckle up in time.
 

Someone behind him cried out at the sight. Someone else vomited. He couldn't blame them. He tensed his own stomach to keep his emotions in check. This was war. Casualties happened. May God have mercy on their souls.

They kept going, moving at a light run. Theodore had no idea what kind of defenses the Dread were going to have. Unless they had brought the ship full-stop in a hurry, they had a limited amount of time before they could back up into the crease through the dead zone, or move the ship out of it completely. The only shot they had was to hit the enemy while they were still vulnerable.

"General, this is Sergeant Hafizi. Delta Squad is on the ground outside. The area is clear and secure."

His voice was choppy through the damaged comm system.

"This is Graham. Beta squad is out and clear."

"General, this is Alpha Squadron Leader. There's no activity outside the fortress. I don't think they have any other fighters."

Theodore looked over at Choi. "No more pilots, more like," he said. "Something fishy's going on here. I'm not complaining, but I expected this to be a little harder."

"Me, too," Choi replied.

"Maggie, pass a message to Gabriel to bring his squad in. If they had more Bats to send at us, they would have done it already, and we may need the extra hands on the ground."

"Yes, General."

"Send a message to Hafizi, too. Get his team moving into position to cover wherever Beta ain't."

"Yes, General."

They reached the emergency stairwell. Choi, Abdullah, and Locke all helped lift his chair, carrying him down the steps. He hated that they had to do it, but he stayed silent. Now wasn't the time to complain about being independent.

"General, Alpha Squadron is home," Gabriel said through the comm.

"Heh. Home? We'll see about that. Vacation rental, more like."

It took almost five minutes for them to get down the stairwell to the belly of the ship, where the emergency ground access was located. For each second of each minute, Theodore waited to hear from Hafizi that they were taking heavy fire, or from Graham that they were under attack. No such messages came. It was almost as if the Dread were hiding.

Or waiting.
 

Whichever it was, he didn't like it.

Sergeant Diallo was waiting at the exit with Guy, Sarah, and Reza. She was holding their single Dread weapon.
 

"General," she said, saluting as he approached.

"Sergeant. That thing still work?"

"Yes, sir," Reza said.

Theodore spun his chair to face them. "I don't have the words to express my gratitude over what you three have accomplished here. I'm proud as heck of each and every one of you, and grateful to have you on my ship. Let's not get too comfy, though; we're not of the swamp just yet."

"Yes, sir," they replied.

"The others are already on the ground, sir," Diallo said.
 

"No sign of the enemy?"

"Not yet. I think they're afraid of us."

"I think they're working out a nice, proper welcome. And I don't mean good old-fashioned southern hospitality. Maggie, how long until we clear the dead zone?"

"Three minutes, General."

"That's about how long I think we have. Maggie, set yourself to secure standby and power down. Unlock only by command of myself, Colonel Choi, or Major St. Martin."

"Yes, General. It was nice to see you again, General. Farewell."