Atlantia Series 3: Aggressor (36 page)

The Marine’s jaw split in a wide grin. ‘You know, for a Veng’en you’re quite sharp. How about you join me and we get the hell out of this mess together?’

Kordaz flicked the plasma rifle’s safety-catch off and the weapon hummed into life.

‘How about you get on your knees?’

Qayin’s smile faded as he slowly got down onto his knees on the ground, then raised his hands behind his head and into his thick gold and blue locks.

‘We can work this out, Kordaz,’ he said quickly. ‘Ain’t no reason to put a round in my head.’

‘Who says I’m going to kill you?’ Kordaz asked as he approached Qayin’s kneeling form. ‘Maybe I’ll just slice you up a little, then take you back to Atlantia and learn why you sold me out to Salim Phaeon?’

Qayin’s eyes narrowed. ‘You got sold out?’

Kordaz kept the rifle pointed at Qayin. ‘Barely got out with my life.’

‘Nobody knew you were here,’ Qayin replied. ‘First we knew the captain had an ace up his sleeve was when the generators blew.’

‘You’re dealing, Qayin,’ Kordaz said. ‘I saw you in the sanctuary. I was right above you when you threatened the civilian and you never knew a thing about it.’

Qayin’s shoulders sagged as he realised that he was cornered.

‘You seriously give enough of a damn?’

Kordaz leaned closer to Qayin. ‘They gave me a home and you’re trying to destroy it. What do you think?’

Qayin’s arm flashed around and in his bunched fist was a slim, sharp blade that must have been tucked into his locks. Qayin bashed the rifle aside as he shot to his feet and slammed the blade into Kordaz’s chest.

The Veng’en shrieked in pain as he leaped backward, the rifle swinging back toward Qayin. Qayin dove forward and grabbed the handle of the blade as Kordaz plunged onto his back and slammed down onto the ground. Qayin landed on top of him and twisted the blade from side to side as he searched for an artery or one of Kordaz’s hearts to puncture.

Kordaz’s massive arms grabbed Qayin and heaved him aside, the Marine tumbling away and yanking the knife from the Veng’en’s chest as he went. Kordaz scrambled to his feet, pain wracking his chest and one hand grasping the wound as Qayin came up onto his feet with the blade held close to his thigh. His tattoos glowed malevolently as he stalked toward Kordaz.

‘You should have joined the Mark of Qayin,’ the Marine growled. ‘Better chance of survival.’

‘You’d cut out your own mother’s heart if the price was right,’ Kordaz hissed back at him. ‘I’d rather die.’

‘So be it.’

Qayin lunged forward and the blade flashed toward Kordaz’s throat. The Veng’en leaped up and to one side, the blade narrowly missing him as he landed with a deep thud. Off balance, Kordaz staggered as he coughed a globule of blood onto the waving grasses beneath them.

Qayin grinned, his head low and his eyes cruel as he stepped in.

Kordaz staggered backward out of range, giving ground to the Marine as his lungs began to pulse painfully with every single breath.

*

Teera ran up the hill through the swathes of smoke as Arcadia’s massive engines made the ground tremble beneath her feet. Her chest heaved and her lungs ached as she ran. The Atlantia’s level decks were not conducive to exercise of any real merit, and running up the rugged hillside in a gale was virtually impossible.

Teera staggered to the crest of the hillside and rested her hands on her knees as she bowed over at the waist, struggling to fill her lungs with enough air to continue. Behind her, the Marines she had passed with the blue barrels were hosing Hunters down in their millions with flamethrowers, scorching the ground in great swathes of apocalyptic flame and smoke. The whine of the engines and the crackle of gunfire urged her to push on, and through blurry eyes as she looked up she saw a pair of Raythons parked nearby amid spacecraft of various types.

Teera stumbled toward the nearest Raython, her legs numb with fatigue and her throat tight, the wind across the hillside blowing with enough force to almost knock her off her feet. She was almost at the Raython when she heard a shriek that rang on the cold air, and she looked to her left to see a Marine locked in mortal combat with a Veng’en.

*

Qayin stalked closer to Kordaz, the knife light in his grasp, the blade wicked and glinting in the sunlight that flickered between the low-scudding clouds. Kordaz backed away, his chest heaving and blood spilling in copious amounts from the wound. His yellow eyes were pinched with pain, the irises tiny points of black focused entirely on Qayin.

Kordaz backed into the landing strut of the big X-shaped cruiser behind him and Qayin lunged forward and jabbed the blade directly toward Kordaz’s throat. The Veng’en’s right arm swept across and smashed Qayin’s blade aside as Kordaz jerked sideways, grabbed Qayin’s collar and smashed him into the landing strut. The Veng’en’s immense strength pinned Qayin’s chest to the strut, preventing him from bringing the blade to bear as Kordaz leaned in close, all pretence of pain and fear vanished.

‘You’re the kind of scum that my kind and I used to enjoy slicing to pieces in front of their friends, Qayin.’

Qayin glanced at the Veng’en’s chest wound and saw the the blood was already congealing in thick clumps around it, the flesh able to regenerate far faster than that of humans. He looked up at Kordaz in time to see the Veng’en force onto his stoic features something approaching a grin, his fangs bared.

‘I should have killed you long ago,’ he growled. ‘I won’t delay any longer, and it will be me leaving aboard this ship.’

Kordaz’s fearsome teeth lunged toward Qayin’s face and then a terrible heat seared Qayin’s neck as a plasma blast smashed into Kordaz. The Veng’en howled in agony as he was hurled aside and the smell of burning flesh scorched Qayin’s nose. Qayin whirled to see a Colonial pilot with pale blue skin standing nearby, a plasma pistol held double-handed in her grip and smouldering from the blast.

Qayin looked down and saw Kordaz sprawled upon the damp earth, the flesh of his chest crackling as it burned.

‘You okay?’ the pilot asked.

Qayin nodded, his heart thumping inside his chest as he turned to the pilot. ‘I owe you one,’ he said as he pushed away from the landing strut.

‘The Veng’en are infected,’ the pilot reported. ‘The Legion found a way to get to them.’

Qayin nodded and glanced down at Kordaz’s body. ‘Damn near got me.’

‘I’ve got to go,’ the pilot said, and before Qayin could respond she whirled and sprinted away toward two Raythons parked nearby.

Qayin turned as he heard the deafening roar of the Arcadia’s engines reach a new height and the huge frigate began to lift off. From his vantage point he could see the massive hull cradles detaching and falling over with deafening crashes as they were impacted by the frigate’s thrusters.

Qayin looked down at Kordaz’s smouldering body, and then he smiled and threw the doomed Veng’en a mock salute. Qayin whirled and dashed up the cruiser’s ramp. As he reached for the switch to close the ramp, he glimpsed the sight of his Marines valiantly fighting off the hordes of Hunters with an apocalyptic blaze of flame and smoke.

Qayin watched them only for a moment longer before he closed the ramp.

***

‘Do as I say!’ Andaim shouted. ‘Maintain orbit!’

Andaim’s Raython raced away from the Veng’en cruiser, pursued by a volley of plasma fire that rocketed past his fighter as he weaved left and right to confuse the enemy’s aim.

‘Negative!’
came Mikhain’s reply.
‘Atlantia cannot withstand much more!’

‘The Veng’en ship is infected!’ Andaim yelled. ‘Taron was right! The Legion is affected by the star’s cosmic rays. It’s why they haven’t attempted to infect this system before, and how Salim Phaeon’s pirates took Arcadia! Some of her crew must have become infected and the rest abandoned her! There was no battle!’

Andaim rolled his Raython over and pulled in toward Atlantia, two squadrons of Raythons following him and forming a protective patrol around the frigate. A cloud of Scythe fighters rocketed in pursuit, plasma shots glowing red as they sought to hit the fleeing Raythons.

‘Then how come the Veng’en ship’s Legion isn’t being fried by the cosmic rays?!’
Mikhain asked.

‘They’re staying inside Chiron IV’s magnetic field,’ Andaim replied. ‘It’s allowing them to remain here longer.’

‘And what if Arcadia is under Salim’s control?!’
Mikhain demanded.
‘Even if we can escape the Veng’en, if the jamming is broken Salim will be in a position to hack and attack us!’

‘Deal with one damned problem at a time!’ Andaim insisted. ‘Maintain orbit and protect those on the surface from a Veng’en bombardment!’

‘Or we can flee, escape the cruiser and save Atlantia!’
Mikhain countered.
‘If what you say is true, they can’t follow us!’

‘They’ll catch up with you eventually once their damage is repaired!’ Andaim snapped back. ‘We must finish this, now! If we don’t give the captain more time and win this battle, the war is over! Atlantia is too far gone to repair her damage, Mikhain!’

Andaim watched as Atlantia was pounded by another broadside from the Veng’en cruiser, and he heard the transmission break up as the immense energy interference threatened to short out Atlantia’s entire electrical system. The XO’s voice broke through, distorted against crackling static.

‘… direct hit … port nacelle… overloa… weapons down…’

Andaim looked back and forth from the Veng’en cruiser and the stricken Atlantia, fires glowing through her hull like city lights viewed from a distance at night, and he knew that there was no longer any time to defend against the Veng’en cruiser.

Atlantia was already down and out.

‘Reaper Flight!’ he called. ‘Cover me!’

A flurry of affirmatives crossed the communications channel as Andaim rolled his Raython and pulled into a turn that placed the Veng’en cruiser right on his nose. He scanned his instruments and saw that her shields were still at thirty per cent, weak against a frigate like Atlantia, but still far too strong for his own plasma cannons to pierce.

A shower of bright red plasma shots raced up toward him and he banked left and right, rolling hard to confuse the enemy’s aim.

‘Their shields are too strong boss!’
one of the other pilots called.
‘Your weapons won’t break through!’

‘I know,’ Andaim replied. ‘I’m not going to use them. Just keep those Scythes off my back!’

Andaim watched as the huge cruiser grew rapidly in size before him, the plasma shots rocketing past his Raython as he weaved and aimed at a ridge of sensors high on the cruiser’s hull. He noted huge gashes where the Atlantia’s guns had penetrated the hull, fires and clouds of floating debris spilling from within. Amid the ragged wounds, machines moved, attempting to repair the damage. Countless machines.

‘Reaper One, pull up!’

Andaim did not reply, instead focusing his every sense on the surface of the Veng’en cruiser. He flew his Raython close to the cruiser’s bow and then turned and flew low over her hull, heading toward her stern at maximum velocity. Suddenly the massive ship seemed to leap in size before him, filling his vision as his Raython rocketed toward the sensor array. For a brief instant Andaim saw every tiny detail of the array before him. Hundreds of tiny blisters, each skinned with metal far thinner than the rest of the ship’s hull to allow signals both in and out. They ran in a line away from him down the hull, like a runway that no craft could use. His instruments blinked out at the last moment, their circuitry blown by the tremendous electro-magentic radiation blazing from the sensor array, and his communication link switched off.

Andaim let go of his controls and gripped hold of his seat as though doing so might save him from the impact.

*

‘Sheilds at eight per cent! We can’t hold position any longer!’

Mikhain heard Lael’s cry and saw the tactical display showing Atlantia’s systems at critical overload and the hull breached on four levels.

‘If we move, the captain dies and so do the rest of the people down there!’ he yelled.

‘Arcadia’s lifting off!’ Ensign Scott shouted above the din of alarms echoing around the ship.

‘Maintain a sensor watch on her!’ Mikhain ordered. ‘Prepare main guns!’

‘We can’t assault the surface ourselves!’ the tactical officer cried. ‘We don’t have enough power to defend against the Veng’en attack!’

Mikhain’s mind screamed for release from the pain of the impossible choice facing him. The chaos, the conflict and the noise swelled in his mind until suddenly everything fell quiet. It was as though he could not hear a thing but for the immense silence humming through his overloaded brain.

In his mind’s eye, three simple facts stared at him, beckoned him to make his choice.

We can afford to lose Arcadia.

We can afford to lose the captain, the crew members and the slaves on the surface.

But we cannot afford to lose Atlantia.

We cannot afford to lose Atlantia. He was now her captain, and if they broke orbit the Veng’en cruiser would not be able to give chase. Risk everything in the remote hope that Captain Sansin would succeed in gaining control of Arcadia, or guarantee Atlantia’s escape and live to fight another day? The captain had said it himself,
do not risk losing Atlantia
.

Mikhain closed his eyes and thought only for a moment longer. The hell with Commander Ry’ere.

‘Helm!’ Mikhain yelled. ‘Break left, disengage immediately!’

‘Aye, cap’n!’

Mikhain whirled to the Ensign Scott. ‘Aim all weapons at Arcadia and blow her from the skies if she comes within range!’

Ensign Scott stared blankly at Mikhain, his reply monotone as though spoken by rote.

‘Aye, captain.’

Mikhain saw the tactical display switch to focus on the shape of Arcadia as she lifted off from the compound dock far below them on the surface, the pixelated image clear enough to deduce that she was already clear of the ground and moving. Around her, pinned down, were hundreds of human beings.