The sick bay lights had been turned down, a red beacon flashing in the corridor outside the main ward indicating that the ship was on high alert. Meyanna waited for the centrifuge to spin up to speed and watched as the plasma was separated out. As soon as she was sure that any Infectors were pinned to the side of the dish, she lowered a mechanically powered scoop into the dish and extracted the fluid. Then she shut off the centrifuge and activated a series of magnets to contain anything metallic inside the chamber. She retrieved the fluid, syphoning it into a thick glass tube and sealing the tube shut, suspended from metal callipers inside the chamber.
Meyanna leaned across and pulled a lever, releasing a microscope on a set of rails hastily built into the interior of the chamber. The microscope rolled along the rails and came to a stop pointing right into the glass tube and the fluid contained within.
‘Okay, Councillor,’ she whispered to herself, ‘let’s get you off the list shall we?’
Meyanna leaned in close to the microscope eyepiece and, without looking, tapped a series of keys on a display screen beside her to bring the image of Dhalere’s blood into focus. Through the blurry blackness she saw the plasma leap into view and with it a swarm of motionless metallic devices embedded within the viscous plasma, the magnetic field holding them in place.
Meyanna gasped and stumbled back from the view finder, and then she turned and dashed for the laboratory door.
*
‘Status?!’
Captain Idris Sansin paced up and down the bridge as his staff rushed to and fro around him, tactical officers organising launch sequences for the Raython fighters, engineering officers diverting power to engines, weapons and ray shielding.
‘Ship will be ready for battle in less than two minutes,’ Lael called down from the communications console.
‘Tactical?’
‘Plasma turrets charging, fighters preparing for launch,’ Mikhain called back. ‘Defensive screen will be secure in five minutes. Renegade Squadron are repositioning to counter the Veng’en vessel’s approach.’
‘Engineering?’
‘Power is re–routed, engines are spun up but not engaged. We can accelerate to super–luminal in less than ten minutes or engage the enemy in less than two.’
The captain nodded despite his consternation, quietly impressed at the speed with which his team were preparing the Atlantia to defend itself. Many of his people remained aboard the Sylph and bringing them home, despite the threat from the Veng’en vessel, was simply not an option until they knew who was infected.
‘XO, launch status?’
Mikhain’s gravelly voice rattled out from the CAG console nearby.
‘Reapers are at battle readiness and our two Quick Reaction Alert fighters are on the launch catapult and ready to go. The Renegades are already on station around the Sylph.’
‘Good enough,’ Idris replied. ‘Launch the Alert Two fighters.’
‘Aye sir!’
Idris watched as the main viewing panel showed the Atlantia’s bow. Moments later two fiery streaks of light accelerated away toward the starfields.
‘Scorcher Three and Four launched,’ Mikhain reported.
‘Launch another eight fighters,’ Idris ordered.
‘Eight?’ Mikhain asked. ‘We don’t want to let them know how many we’ve got too early sir, or we’ll have nothing in reserve to…’
‘I don’t want them thinking we’re defenceless either,’ Idris snapped. ‘Let them think we’ve got fighters and weapons galore. It might give them pause.’
‘Aye,’ Mikhain replied, and relayed the order.
‘We’ve got two Raythons aboard the Sylph,’ Idris thought out loud, ‘and a shuttle plus Bra’hiv’s Marines.’
‘Bravo Company are aboard too,’ Lael confirmed, ‘the former convicts.’
‘Good, they’ll fight dirty which is something the Veng’en are familiar with but might not expect from us,’ Idris said. ‘Let’s turn this around before it gets out of hand. The Veng’en will be on the attack because that’s their default stance in all engagements. They won’t ask questions and they won’t give quarter. We have to make sure that they’ll think twice before they press the loud buttons, okay?’
Idris saw the personnel around him all nod as they replied in unison.
‘Aye, sir!’
‘Good. Tactical, all shields on full. I want a full salvo of shots across their bow the moment they arrive, understood?’
‘Yes sir!’
‘XO, all fighters into intercept positions, weapons armed!’
‘Aye sir.’
Idris Sansin watched as more fiery streaks of light raced away from the Atlantia’s bow, the Raython fighters launching off the magnetic catapults at tremendous velocity and roaring out into the blackened void.
‘The best form of defence,’ he murmured to himself, ‘is offence. Range?!’
‘Point oh–two orbital radii,’ Mikhain replied. ‘They’re within signalling range.’
‘Don’t hail them,’ Idris ordered. ‘I don’t want them thinking we’re willing to talk about anything.’
‘They might just open fire and call our bluff,’ Mikhain pointed out.
‘We’re ready,’ Idris replied and then gritted his teeth as he gave one final order. ‘Keep us between the Sylph and the Veng’en vessel,’ he said.
Mikhain looked up at the captain. ‘You want to protect the plague ship? We’d be better off bringing everybody back aboard and risking the infection than defending that wreck.’
‘The Sylph isn’t my concern,’ Idris replied. ‘We need to give Bra’hiv and Evelyn as long as possible to clear everybody and get them off that ship.’
The starfield visible in the main viewing screen began to move slowly as the Atlantia’s thrusters fired and she began to drift toward the Sylph, the helmsman guiding her down to dive beneath the merchant vessel and come up on the other side, pointing toward the oncoming Veng’en vessel.
‘Becalm her with the port hull toward the Veng’en ship,’ Idris commanded as the frigate descended below the Sylph. ‘I want our guns staring at them when they get here.’
As the Atlantia moved beneath the Sylph and began climbing again toward her protective position, Idris heard a voice calling out to him.
He turned as his wife dashed onto the bridge, two Marines escorting her.
‘It’s Dhalere!’ Idris felt a chill in his bones as Meyanna rushed to his side. ‘Evelyn was right all along. Dhalere is infected. I just tested her blood!’
Idris whirled to the communications officer.
‘Lael, hail the Sylph and warn them, right now!’
Lael keyed a microphone but even as she opened her mouth to speak a deafening, high–pitched whine seared the Atlantia’s bridge. Idris threw his hands to his ears as Lael scrambled to shut off the bridge speakers.
The whine was abruptly silenced.
‘We’re being jammed,’ Lael reported as she scrambled to activate her counter–measures. ‘The Veng’en ship has cut off our communications.’
Idris lowered his hands, thinking fast. ‘Send them a light show, right now!’
‘Aye, sir!’
Lael began activating the Atlantia’s running lights, which could be used as a signalling system when the coms channels were shut down or jammed in battle.
‘We don’t know if they’re looking for signals from us,’ Mikhain pointed out. ‘They’ve probably got their hands full over there too.’
‘Damn!’ the captain punched a fist into the arm of his command chair, venting his frustration as he turned to his wife. ‘How long has she been infected?’
‘I don’t know,’ Meyanna admitted. ‘The concentration of the devices in her blood is quite low, but it must have been her who infected Kyarl. It’s possible that she’s been a carrier for some months now, since she was working for Hevel.’
The Atlantia’s former councillor, Hevel, had been a career politician seconded to the prison service and posted to the Atlantia. Dhalere had been his assistant and had been elevated to her new role as councillor shortly after Hevel had died, his body riddled with the Legion.
‘We should have known,’ Idris growled. ‘She worked with Hevel for months.’
‘She passed all the scans,’ Meyanna countered. ‘The Word is getting more adept at hiding. It’s evolving faster than we can keep up with.’
The captain looked at the viewing screen, which showed the Sylph looming above them.
‘And now Dhalere’s across there, and if they’re not monitoring us for signals we can’t warn them.’
***
‘This is it!’
General Bra’hiv marched up and down before the Marines, their faces like stone as they listened to his voice booming across the cold landing bay.
‘This is what you’ve trained for! It is likely that within the next few minutes we will be boarded by the Veng’en, who will attempt to take the ship and kill us. Your job will be to repel those borders, to hold the line here and at other key points around the ship, until we can figure out a way to escape or defeat our enemy.’
Qayin, his bioluminescent tattoos glowing in the emergency lighting, watched as Bra’hiv began ordering the two rifle platoons to their stations. Qayin’s own platoon, Bravo Four, consisted of thirty men of whom he was the leader, with Lieutenant C’rairn in overall command. Bra’hiv reached them, and looked up at Qayin.
‘You’re up,’ the general ordered, ‘bridge deck.’
‘The weak link,’ Qayin replied. ‘The most likely point of access that will take the heaviest fire from their battleship.’
Bra’hiv grinned. ‘Glad to see you’ve been paying attention to my lectures.’
‘I never listened to them,’ Qayin replied, ‘I’m just guessing that you’ll send me to where the fighting is the worst.’
‘My my, Qayin, you’re the sharp tool today.’
‘I ain’t cannon fodder for no man.’
‘Don’t expect you to be,’ Bra’hiv replied. ‘I expect you to fight, which seems to be what you do best. Now get to the bridge or I’ll send you up there on the end of my boot.’
The general turned to Sergeant Djimon. ‘Your men will back up Bravo Company and cover the stairwells to ensure that the Legion doesn’t get the chance to advance on our position.’ Bra’hiv leaned close to the big sergeant. ‘No running away this time, sergeant, understood?’
Djimon turned away, his face glum as he led his men at the double toward the stairwells.
‘What can I do?’
Evelyn stood on her own and glanced at her Raython fighter.
‘You can stay here and wait for orders,’ Bra’hiv said. ‘These two Raythons and the shuttle can remain here as an additional surprise force. If things get dicey, they can be launched as a counter–offensive.’
Evelyn almost laughed. ‘You’ll try to board the Veng’en vessel?’
‘The best form of defence…’ Bra’hiv said.
‘The Veng’en have prisoners,’ Evelyn said. ‘The Veng’en talked.’
‘And?’
‘We can protect ourselves from the Word, stop the Infectors coming too close.’
‘What about the swarms, the Hunters?’
‘There’s no defence against them,’ Evelyn replied. ‘Kordaz is his name. He set up a series of microwave transmitters down in the for’ard hold, kept the Infectors at bay until the ship cooled enough to force them to retreat into the engine bays.’
‘So the freak’s got a brain,’ Bra’hiv uttered as he began walking. ‘He isn’t much use to us now, especially now that his buddies are on their way.’
‘That’s what I was thinking,’ Evelyn said, ‘except that I felt that he may be the key to our survival.’
‘The Veng’en don’t bargain with their own,’ Bra’hiv replied ruefully.
‘But they don’t know what he knows,’ she insisted. ‘Maybe we can make them think that he’s useful, keep him as a bargaining chip.’
Bra’hiv frowned as he reached the stairwells. ‘I doubt it. He’d have to be willing to speak for us and I don’t see him doing that.’
‘We haven’t given him the chance yet,’ Evelyn pressed. ‘Besides, if the Veng’en do insist on attacking while he’s aboard, wouldn’t that be enough to press him into helping us? He’ll know the weak spots on their vessel, or among the command. Maybe he can be turned?’
Bra’hiv smiled and clapped Evelyn on the shoulder.
‘I admire the idea,’ he said, ‘but the Veng’en would sooner slice off their own heads than turn against their kind. They hate us, Evelyn, now more than ever. That Veng’en prisoner is a liability, not a solution. Stay away from him.’
Bra’hiv turned and jogged away up the stairwell toward the bridge.
Evelyn cursed silently and followed Bra’hiv up the stairwell. The general turned toward the bridge, where Djimon was posting sentries outside and Qayin was arranging his fire teams on the bridge. The huge former convict glowered down at Bra’hiv as he approached.
‘Shouldn’t you be hidin’ under your duvet below decks with Djimon?’ he snarled.
Bra’hiv reached over his shoulder and pulled the plasma rifle slung there around until he held it at port arms. Evelyn heard the general activate the pulse chamber, the rifle humming into life.
‘If you’re going to die Qayin, I want to be there to see it.’
The general brushed past Qayin and onto the bridge, the big convict concealing a smile as he glanced at Evelyn.
‘What about you?’ he asked. ‘Fancy joining the fun?’
Evelyn unholstered her pistol. ‘Where are Dhalere and the others?’
‘Hiding out in the for’ard hold,’ Qayin replied, ‘along with the doctors and the civilian staff the councillor brought with her. Best place for them, out of the way.’
Qayin activated his rifle and strode onto the Sylph’s bridge. Evelyn followed him and immediately saw the main viewing screen glowing inside the darkened bridge. A dense starfield was marked by a single tracing line, a display that recorded range, velocity and bearing. She could see that the object, a dull grey in colour, was moving slightly against the background of stars. However, with none of those stars nearby it was merely a shadowy blob that she might not have seen were the display not highlighting it.
‘Here she comes,’ Bra’hiv said. ‘Looks like she’s at attack speed.’
‘Where are the fighters?’ Evelyn asked.
‘Defence screen is already up,’ Qayin replied, ‘but we’re all being jammed.’
Bra’hiv’s voice broke the silence that followed.
‘They either break off or they board us. Like I said, this is it, gentlemen.’
*
‘Razor Four, Atlantia, come in?’