Relentless (Fleet Ops Book 3), page 22
Jake froze. “Where are you?”
“Look for the flashing lights.”
Sure enough, he spotted her—manually switching the emergency lights of her ejected cockpit on and off.
“How did you eject like that?”
“I didn’t,” she croaked. “I think the ship’s own systems ejected me.” She paused. “Honestly, I thought I was going to die killing him, and I was at peace with that.”
“Did you kill him?”
“You tell me.”
Jake looked back down into the smoking hole in the side of the ship. He watched, practically on replay in his mind, as Woe was torn apart in front of him by the explosion. How he’d tried and failed to dance out of the way.
He’d been completely shredded by the explosion. Jake was sure of it. “Yeah, you killed him. You killed him into lots of tiny little pieces.”
“Well, let’s hope those little pieces don’t manage to turn back into another Woe.”
“Even the Brood has its limits.” Like when a creature had been blown back to its atomic elements.
“Can you fly?” Fesky asked.
Jake almost laughed. “I have a single working thruster at about thirty percent.” He paused. “But amazingly enough, I’ve managed to fly with less.”
“Good. Get me back to the Providence. I need to get another fighter.”
Jake stared at the cockpit. “You want me to…what?”
“Take this ejection pod back to the Providence. As quickly as you can. I need another Python.”
Jake glanced upward out of the hole in the hull. He could see stars and firefights above. He’d been hearing reports from the Providence. They weren’t good. “I’m not sure the Providence is going to last much longer,” he said. “Honestly, I’m shocked she’s not gone yet.”
“Do it anyway. If she’s still there, I want to go to her.”
Jake located the ship on his HUD, which also showed the countless enemies abusing her. And they’d be flying right into the middle of them.
But flying into fights was just what they did, Jake and Fesky.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
Jake managed to get his mech turned around. He hooked his half-working arm around a handle projecting from the cockpit’s exterior and engaged his lone thruster.
It moaned and complained, and his HUD reminded him once again that he really should be dead, and probably would be soon. He ignored it and headed toward the Providence.
Chapter 55
Combat Information Center
UHC Relentless
There were fewer and fewer green dots shown on the main viewscreen. The air wings were decimated. They’d just lost two more frigates, and almost all the support ships were either out of communication or dead in space.
The battle group was all but destroyed. Now it was a just a loose collection of ships, scattered in the wake of the enormous Yin battle cruiser, which still pressed forward.
“The eggheads say you have a shot,” Iver said. His voice was low, almost a murmur. He sounded like a man resigned to his fate.
“That’s the first good news we’ve heard in half an hour,” Husher said, and he meant it.
For every Stomach they destroyed, three more took its place. The Brood had a staggeringly huge presence here. Not a surprise, exactly. All of it was expected from the simulations Calder had shown them. But the actual reality of it was still hard to process.
“Well then, enjoy that good news,” Iver said. “Because that’s the last of it you’ll be getting from me. The simulations might say you’ve got a chance if we continue in-system toward that moon, but there’s no way we get out of this system alive. That’s true for both of us.”
Husher glanced at the tactical display. They were still a few minutes away from being within range of the moon.
Long spoke up from the Coms station. “Sir, the Providence is…she’s calling abandon ship.”
Husher’s head whipped around. He was talking to Iver right now, and he’d not told him this? He must have had Daniels managing the evacuation.
“Admiral, are you—”
“Listen to me, Vin,” Iver said. “Whatever happens to us, you have to push on. This AI will doubtless make its way back to humanity.”
“We’re not leaving you behind.”
“You damn well are,” Iver snarled, his sharpness surprising Husher. “You’re the one that made me understand this, and you aren’t talking yourself out of it. These things will make it back to humanity one way or the other. Everything we’ve done since we got here was to ensure they didn’t get back to our world. We aren’t about to risk that now.”
“Five minutes,” Shota broke in. “Give or take.”
“You’re right,” Husher said, talking to Iver. He sensed the admiral had needed him to say that. Even though it was Iver trying to convince Husher to continue, he could tell Iver needed him to confirm that he was doing the right thing. The only thing they could do, even if the loss for the battle group would be extraordinary. Even if the loss would be total.
Husher suddenly remembered his dream. The vivid one, of his father. He’d wondered at the time if the alien confines weren’t affecting him, or if the dream hadn’t been a lingering effect from his time in the Skisel undervoid. Maybe that was it…even so, his father had said exactly what he’d needed to hear.
You better be ready to sacrifice everything.
He was ready.
“God speed,” Iver said, and then cut the connection.
Chapter 56
Primary Hangar Bay
UHC Providence
“Decker!” screamed Fesky as she leaped clear of the cockpit. The mechanisms were ruined, and it had taken a couple of tries to shove them.
The main lights were off. There were bright emergency lights showing the calm on deck. It looked as though it was nearly abandoned, and there were just a few people still around.
Paul Decker turned, and the big human with tattoos up his neck smiled broadly. “Fesky, what the hell are you—”
He stopped.
She was climbing out the ejected cockpit of a mangled Python fighter, after all, and hanging from the side of a MIMAS mech that was limping on one leg, with both arms damaged and half leaking fluid from half a dozen places.
“Chief,” she said, “I need a new ride.”
Decker hesitated. “You need a new mech, too?”
Fesky was out and marching across the quiet deck now. “What? No. Well, yes. Do you have any?”
Decker shook his head. “No, we don’t keep any spares here. It’s all Pythons on the flight deck.”
“Never mind, then. Just get me a Python.”
She motioned for Jake. She knew he’d heard that part of the exchange.
“I need to get back to the Relentless.” With that, Jake spun his damaged mech around and launched himself back out of the Providence’s bay. “But you need to get the hell out of here, fast, Fesky.” It was the last thing he said before distance made the local com channel they’d set up go dead.
Fesky gave a wave that he couldn’t see, as his mech was already back in space. She worried whether he had enough life support to make the trip, but he wasn’t suicidal. He must think his mech could make it.
Then again, maybe he was suicidal. After all, she’d proven she was, hadn’t she? She’d meant to kill herself to kill Woe. Even if her ship’s systems had saved her, that hadn’t been the plan.
If revenge and hatred could be called a plan.
Yet here she was, alive and well. Okay, not so well. But alive, at least.
And now she had more to do. If this pocket universe was going to spare her, she’d be damned if she was going to turn down the chance to do more damage to these awful things. “Paul, I don’t have time to wait around. I need a Python. I need one now.”
Decker nodded. “Follow me,” he said.
He didn’t wink at her, or crack a joke. She noticed he was holding a welder. She wondered if he’d just been on his way to close and block the blast doors. It would make sense. At this point, there didn’t need to be a bay here, and certainly not an opening for the Wayfarers to get in. In fact, there didn’t seem like there needed to be anyone here at all.
“Where is everyone?” she asked.
“They abandoned ship,” Decker said without looking around.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You aren’t abandoning ship?”
“I still have fighters to take care of. And apparently, I still have pilots showing up for them.”
This time he did smirk back at her, and he gave her a little wink. In some strange way, she was thankful for it.
“This is what we got,” he said after a minute. He’d stopped in front of one of three Pythons that were lined up and looked primed to go. He slapped the middle one’s hull. “This one’s the best of the lot.”
An impact rocked the ship. Fesky stumbled as sparks flew from the overhead, far above. The ship seemed to lurch again, harder this time, and they both fell across one of the launch tubes. As they helped each other up, Fesky said, “That was bad.”
Decker chuckled. “Yeah, it’s bad.”
The ship lurched again. This was more like a rolling wave under their feet. The impacts were shockingly strong. This was a supercarrier, she had to remind herself. One of the largest ships in human space, and it was getting knocked around like a toy. What kind of impacts could cause that?
Or were they internal explosions? She shuddered at the thought.
It was probably a little of both. She realized the ship had to be completely overrun with Brood. That was why they’d abandoned ship. The vessel was already lost. It was just a matter of time, now.
Suddenly a thought occurred to her. “Come with me.”
Decker turned away, swinging the big welder in his hand. “We don’t have any two-seaters.”
“We can make it work,” she said. “Decker, don’t be stupid. We can find a way for you to get out of here.”
At that moment, another impact hit the launch bay. This time, the vibrations didn’t come from the deck under their feet. It came from the far bulkhead.
She turned to see Wayfarers pouring through a gaping hole—from deeper inside the ship. All teeth and claws and no more thoughts in their minds than to destroy what they could find.
“Go!” screamed Decker. “Go, I’ll clear the tubes.”
Fesky had no idea what that meant, but there was no time to argue. She dove into the Python and brought it around.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw the Wayfarers had covered half the distance in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t possible that anything could move that fast, she thought. They were staggeringly fast.
She spun around and, ignoring all the protocols she’d been trained in her whole life, did absolutely no preflight check list. She just fired up the thrusters and slid the Python into the tubes.
Then she saw what Decker was talking about. The tubes were shut. Of course; they were abandoning ship. They were shutting down the bay.
But as she watched, the tubes opened up, and she could see stars.
She glanced around and saw Paul standing alone at the launch platform on the far side of the bay, not that far from where she’d first run into him.
He turned and saluted her. A crisp, perfect salute.
Then Fesky fired her thrusters, and the Python rocked out of the tubes, even as the Wayfarers smashed into them.
Sparks flew, and the Providence shuddered again, this time another of the big impacts wracking the ship. For a second, she thought she saw the launch tube shift and block her exit. Then the great ship seemed to flex again, and she was surrounded by space and stars.
She fired her thrusters and roared into open space. She glanced back, but there was nothing to see. The bay was already receding, and her last thought was of Paul turning to salute her even as the Wayfarers were bearing down on him.
The ship shuddered again, practically vibrating in space from tip to stern. It didn’t break apart, but it might as well have.
The Providence, Fesky knew, was doomed.
Chapter 57
Combat Information Center
UHC Relentless
“She’s breaking up, sir,” Winterton said solemnly.
Husher watched, helpless, as the Providence came apart at the seams. The image was getting smaller and smaller as the supercarrier fell behind. What was left of the battle group was similarly in tatters and trailing behind.
In the meantime, the Yin battleship was closing in on the moon.
For what felt like the millionth time, Husher wondered if the Yin research was right. Could it be that they were wrong, and that this moon wasn’t the home of the hive mind?
But he put those worries aside. Just as when he’d attacked the first hive mind they’d ever encountered, in the asteroid belt around Scion space, they’d known that they were headed in the right direction when the Brood had begun to throw everything they had at them to stop them.
And the same thing, on a much larger scale, was happening here.
No, there was no game afoot here. This was no wrong lead. This was the final AI, and it was throwing everything it had at them to stop them.
Which meant they had to succeed.
“Sir, reading energy fluctuations from the Providence.”
Husher nodded. He could see that as well.
“The core,” Shota said from Tactical. “It’s going nova.”
Sure enough, a moment later, a spectacular blast of light and energy played across the screen.
Then, just as quickly as the flash appeared, it was gone again. And in its place, the screen showed only debris accelerating away from what had once been the Providence.
Husher slumped back in his chair. He was sure that had anyone been looking at him, they would have seen their captain with his jaw hanging open.
Iver was gone. The Providence was gone. The enormity of it hit him squarely in the chest.
In some perverse way that probably wouldn’t make sense to anyone but him, he felt proud of Iver’s sacrifice.
And the ultimate sacrifice it must have been, for he’d not been on an escape pod. He’d been in the CIC when the reactor had exploded.
He’d gone down with the ship. So had his officers, and much of the crew. Even those who’d left in escape pods faced an uncertain future.
There was a long line of material strewn in the wake of the crumbling battle group, a string of escape pods and dead spacecraft—people desperately clinging to life.
The Brood took no prisoners. There would be no picking up those that abandoned ship.
It wasn’t just pride Husher felt for Iver. It was admiration, too. In the end, despite his views of the admiral, the man had done what had to be done.
And now it was up to the Relentless to finish the job.
“Sir,” Shota said, and the sadness in his voice told Husher that he, too, was feeling the loss of the supercarrier, in spite of his fraught relationship with the admiral. Or perhaps he just respected Husher and his relationship with the old man.
“Yes, XO?”
“I’m holding off firing for the moment. But we’re fully cycled and charged.”
Husher understood instantly what he was saying. They were within a single recharging cycle of their destination. No reason to keep firing at the Stomachs ahead of them now. No reason to chance taking another shot and wasting another power cycle.
They were charged and ready. This shot, the one they had left, had a single target. The only target.
Husher glanced up at the damage assessment board. Unlike on human ships, it gave him precious little information. Calder couldn’t work miracles. There was just no way to know the exact condition of the alien ship. For all he knew, the reactor could be breached at any moment. The ship could buckle at any moment. The weapon could lose the power it needed at any moment.
He sent up a silent prayer. They just had to hold on a few more minutes.
That wasn’t asking too much.
Was it?
Chapter 58
Oneiri Team
UHC Relentless
“I’m sending you our coordinates now,” Jake heard over the com link. It was Steam, and her voice was low. Reserved. He didn’t need to be told why. There were four members of Oneiri Team left now. Zeph, Moonboy, Steam, and Jake. Jake barely counted himself, though he had no idea of the condition of the rest of the mechs. For all he knew, they were in as bad a shape as he was. He’d seen Moonboy floating away from the ship with extensive damage to his mech’s arms and legs.
Jake landed his own battered mech on the surface of the Relentless. He hesitated to even call it a hull, now. What was left of it was in tatters, and there were huge sections missing where it looked like it had simply collapsed inward. In other places, the alien acid had eaten through to the interior. Several of the pulse cannons now stuck up at odd angles, with parts hanging off.
He eased himself through one of the many hull breaches and into the Relentless herself. He worked his mech around the many metal rods and jagged pieces obstructing his path. His speed picked up as he progressed farther in, and soon he was running—fast enough that he nearly crashed through a squad of marines.
“Holy shit,” he yelled, ducking sideways and just managing to evade them. The marines hadn’t even seen him. They weren’t looking at him, and he realized now what had their attention.
Crawling out of a huge breach farther down the passage were a dozen Wayfarers. The marines were trying to keep them pinned, but it was a futile effort with those numbers.
A trio of rockets flew over Jake’s mech and hit the Wayfarers, sending several of them flying. He turned to find Steam jogging up behind him, with her shoulder-mounted rocket cradle smoking.
“That was the last of mine,” she said.
Jake had spent the last of his rockets an hour ago, and he marveled at Ash’s ability to ration them. Standing beside her, Zeph was empty, too. She was also missing an arm. That was better than Moonboy, who had no arms and was left to limp along on one working leg.
