“Vultures, I’m coming up on the central hub. I’ll get their attention; you save my ass.”

  “Copy that, Sarge,” Sho said.

  “Pratt, you copy on that?” Caleb asked.

  “Affirmative,” Pratt replied.

  “Here we go. Don’t let me die.”

  Caleb drew in a deep breath as he turned the corner and burst into the central hub. There were multiple corridors all leading into the hub and a bank of four lifts in the center. The trife were gathered around them, hissing and clawing at one of the doors.

  “Hey, uglies!” Caleb shouted as loud as he could, brandishing his knife. “Come get some.”

  The trife hissed and turned, surprised by the sudden attack from the crazy human. One of them charged right away, and Caleb barely got the knife up in time to stop a large claw from slashing his neck.

  Sho, Hafizi, and Washington charged out of two of the corridors behind the creatures, knives slashing and cutting into the demons’ backs. At the same time, the door to the lift slid open, and Pratt and his men started shooting.

  Caleb dropped to his stomach to avoid being hit, the bullets and blades slamming the trife and quickly tearing them apart.

  It was over in seconds. Caleb looked up when the shooting stopped, finding Sergeant Pratt standing above him, holding out his hand. Caleb took it and let the other man pull him to his feet.

  “Thanks for the help, Cal,” Pratt said.

  “Thank me later. We still need to get to the bridge. Do any of the lifts work?”

  “Probably the one I didn’t try to use,” Pratt said. “Damn it. I lost half my squad trying to cut through the bastards instead of going around like Jackson suggested. It’s a good thing you came along.”

  “Sarge, I’m carrying,” Sho said, coming up beside him holding a rifle. She must have taken it off one of Pratt’s dead Marines.

  Washington and Hafizi joined him. Washington had picked up a rifle too.

  Pratt grabbed the pistol from his hip and held it out to Caleb. “A deals a deal.”

  Caleb took it and smiled. “You have seniority. This is your lead, Sean.”

  “Screw that, Cal,” Pratt replied. “You have more combat experience in your pinkie than I have in my whole body.”

  Caleb nodded, and he quickly pulled Pratt and the two members of his squad – Gurshaw, and Ning – into his direct subnet.

  “The lift goes up to the central hub on Deck Six. It’s one hundred meters from there to the bridge. We don’t have time to mess around. Washington, you have point. Sean, cover our six.”

  “Will do,” Pratt said.

  Caleb went into the lift next to the broken one and tapped the controls. The panel didn’t show any damage. He waved the others in and then directed the cab to deck six.

  They started to rise.

  “Lieutenant,” Caleb said, trying the comm link to the bridge. “What’s your status?”

  There was no response.

  “Lieutenant, are you there, sir?” he repeated.

  Nothing.

  “Shit. We may be too late. All out sprint; don’t slow for anything.”

  “We’re good to go, Sarge,” Sho said. Washington flashed him a thumbs-up.

  The lift reached Deck Six. Caleb was out the door before it finished opening. He nearly ran headlong into the back of a trife.

  He stuck Pratt’s pistol against the back of its head and pulled the trigger, blowing its brains out without hesitation and without slowing down. Another trife ahead spun to confront him, and he put a bullet in that one too. His ATCS started filling in the data from his camera and sensors, passing it to the Marines behind him as he ran point, a faster runner than Washington could ever be.

  He entered the corridor leading to the bridge. There were trife here too, but he didn’t slow as he charged past them, blowing by before they could react. He heard the gunfire and saw the red marks vanish from tactical, his Vultures so close on his heals he could almost feel Washington’s hot breath on his neck.

  He kept running, following a slightly curved passageway toward the bridge. It took him twenty seconds to reach the door to the bridge, finding it already open. The lights inside were flickering, and he could see the shapes of trife directly ahead of him.

  He started shooting, cutting the first two down. The demons hissed and whirled around, recognizing the new threat. Caleb came to a sudden stop. There were so damn many of them. Thirty at least. His eyes tracked to Major Jackson, bloody on the floor in front of the holotable. Then they shifted to Major Ng, also dead.

  Was anyone still alive in there?

  The trife rushed him, too many for him to kill at once. Fortunately, he wasn’t alone. Washington and Sho were still close enough to assist, and they opened fire on the demons as they started pouring from the bridge, cutting the creatures down one after another. Caleb jumped back, firing his sidearm into the ones who got too close.

  Pratt, Gurshaw, Ning, and Hafizi followed after, joining the assault. What had been a massacre a moment before became a sudden rout, the demons dying in a hurry.

  “Lieutenant Jones!” Caleb shouted. “Lieutenant!”

  He entered the bridge. A trife jumped at him from the shadows, and a gunshot rang out, catching it in the temple and knocking it down.

  Caleb traced the muzzle flash to a dark hand, and from the hand to the bloody face of Lieutenant Jones.

  “Sir!” he said. The others trailed into the room, sweeping the area.

  “It’s done, Lieutenant,” a woman said from the other side of the station where Lieutenant Jones was standing. “We’re on autopilot.”

  The lieutenant smiled. “Hell, Sergeant. You couldn’t have cut that any closer. Have your Marines secure the bridge. We have another complication.”

  Chapter 25

  Washington guarded the closed hatch to the bridge, keeping his rifle trained on it in case it slid open again. Sho took the vent on the port side, Hafizi the starboard vent. Caleb, Lieutenant Jones, and Captain Rogers gathered around the holotable. Pratt and his two squad mates were guarding the bridge from outside.

  The room was a mess. There were dead trife everywhere Caleb looked – slumped over the consoles, curled up on the floor. There was even one hanging from a coolant pipe on the ceiling. Everyone who wasn’t standing at the table or guarding the room was dead, including General Watkins. Lieutenant Jones told Caleb that he and Rogers would have joined them as corpses if the Vultures hadn’t shown when they did, distracting the trife and saving their lives long enough for the captain to activate the autopilot.

  The ship’s computer would manage the rest of the journey from their current position just outside of Earth’s orbit all the way to their destination, leaving the surviving humans free to figure out how to salvage the disaster.

  “What’s the complication, sir?” Caleb asked, as soon as they were all settled.

  “Let’s start with the basics,” Lieutenant Jones said. “General Watkins is dead.” He motioned to the corner where Caleb assumed the general had fallen, though he couldn’t see the body in the dimness of the failing lights. “Major Jackson, Major Ng, both dead.”

  “Doctor Valentine, sir?” Sho asked, smirking.

  “I don’t know. She was on the bridge right before the attack. There’s a research module installed closer to Metro, here.” Lieutenant Jones brought up the partial map of the Deliverance on the holotable and pointed to an area between Metro and the hangar. “I’m not that familiar with the ship’s systems, but since we don’t have a dark spot there like we do here,” he pointed to the empty holes in the projection, “I’m guessing they still have full power and were able to seal themselves off.”

  “Wishful thinking,” Sho said.

  “The modules all have their own control systems,” Captain Rogers said. “Subnet worked into the main ship’s computer. They have limited access to the main systems, but you wouldn’t be able to fly the Deliverance from down there. Anyway, now that we’re in space it doesn’t matter. The computer can handle the job from here to Proxima.”

  “Proxima, ma’am?” Caleb said. “Is that what they’re calling Earth-6 now?”

  “No,” Jones replied. “That’s why Valentine was on the bridge. Command decided to redirect us to the Proxima system, four light years away.”

  “Four light years? That’s twenty years travel time, right sir?”

  “Approximately.”

  Caleb smiled. “So we’re good. I mean, we don’t have to go to sleep, sir.”

  “We’ll get to that,” Captain Rogers said, glancing at Lieutenant Jones.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Back to the basics,” Lieutenant Jones said. “Major Lyle is the highest ranking officer on the ship.” The lieutenant tapped on the control surface of the holotable, activating the comm. “Major, are you still with us?”

  “I am, Adam.”

  “Ultimately, the fate of the Deliverance is yours, sir,” Jones said.

  “Not completely mine,” Lyle replied. “Military chain-of-command is well and good, but the situation we’re in now, we need to break down some of the protocols and focus on survival. If you have ideas, Lieutenant, I want to hear them.”

  “Captain Rogers is second,” Lieutenant Jones continued. “And then me.”

  “But, sir?” Caleb said, recognizing the tone of the man’s voice.

  “I’m getting to it, Sergeant. Looking at the sensor grid, we’ve still got a minimum of four hundred trife loose in the ship, not counting what’s hidden in the dark spots. The largest group looks like it’s headed aft, which makes sense since there’s a ton of energy flowing through the reactors to the main thrusters. They’ll be looking to feed and recover.”

  “And start a new colony,” Doctor Valentine said over the comm, interrupting them.

  “Doctor Valentine?” Major Lyle said.

  “Did you patch her in?” Captain Rogers whispered to Lieutenant Jones. He shook his head.

  “I’ve been watching events unfolding,” Valentine said. “I had Harry hack into the bridge comm system controls from Research because I wanted to help. I wasn’t expecting you Space Force Marines to be moving ahead without us.”

  “Why wouldn’t we?” Captain Rogers said. “You’re a civilian, and this is a military ship.”

  “No, Samantha, this isn’t a military ship. Check the protocols. The moment the Deliverance left Earth’s orbit, it was to be converted to a peacetime vessel. A civilian vessel. The military was to be disbanded save for the Guardians, who were to fall under a special status as law enforcement agents.”

  “Doctor, I don’t think the protocols apply in this situation,” Major Lyle said.

  “Of course you don’t. You’re a Marine. Marines never want to give up their control.”

  “With all due respect, Doctor. I think you can agree that there is still a sound reason to maintain what’s left of the military presence on the Deliverance? We have at least two hundred trife loose on the ship.”

  “I understand that, Major. But wouldn’t you then assume it would be wise to include the science team that has spent the last two years trying to understand the xenotrife and formulate a means to combat them effectively in the damned conversation?”

  Caleb winced at the harshness of Doctor Valentine’s tone. So did the others. She did have a point, though.

  “Haven’t you caused enough trouble already?” Sho said. “Your delay is the whole reason we’re in this – ”

  “Private, be quiet,” Major Lyle said.

  Sho’s mouth snapped shut.

  “Okay, Doctor. You’re in anyway. Let’s forget the past and focus on what we need to do now. We’ve got trife spreading across the Deliverance.”

  “As I was saying, they’re going to try to start a nest. Maybe multiple nests.”

  “Don’t they need a Queen for that?” Lieutenant Jones asked.

  “Interesting thing about the trife, Lieutenant. When they don’t have a Queen but want to make a nest, they’ll elect one, and the community, no matter how small, will both generate and transmit the genetic material to make that happen.”

  “You’re saying they can turn one of themselves into a Queen?” Major Lyle said.

  “Exactly.”

  “Shit.”

  “Exactly.”

  “We need to get after these bastards as soon as possible,” Lyle said. “Lieutenant Jones, take Sergeant Card and – ”

  “Hold on, Major,” Lieutenant Jones said. “You’re forgetting the complication.” He tapped his finger on the second largest group of trife. “These uglies look like they’re headed for Metro. What do you think, Doctor?”

  “Agreed, Lieutenant,” Valentine said. “They can sense the people inside. They’ll want to get at them.”

  “Isn’t Metro sealed, sir?” Caleb asked.

  “Mostly,” Lieutenant Jones replied. “They won’t be able to get through unless someone tries to go in or out.”

  “I’m already inside,” Major Lyle said. “Who else is out there that has access?”

  “Me, sir,” Jones said. “I think that’s it. But that isn’t my point.”

  “What is your point, Lieutenant?” Valentine asked.

  “Back to basics,” Jones said. “We have a number of trife loose on the ship. We have a total of twenty Marines if we all pull together. I recommend trying to regroup in the Marine module as soon as we’re done here.”

  “I’ll send the orders out to the remaining units now,” Major Lyle said.

  Caleb heard the Major’s message in his helmet comm a moment later, calling the Marines back to the module. So few were left to respond. How the hell were they going to do this?

  “I hope we can get the trife off the Deliverance,” Jones continued. “But we have to have a contingency in case we can’t.”

  “A contingency, sir?” Caleb said.

  “I think I know where you’re going with this, Lieutenant,” Captain Rogers said. “I’m not sure I’m on board with that idea.”

  “We can’t wait until we fail. It might be too late by then.”

  “Too late for what, sir?” Sho asked.

  “He wants to close off Metro,” Caleb said, his heart beginning to sink. “Permanently.”

  “What?”

  “That’s part of it, Sergeant,” Jones confirmed. “But only one small part. Doctor, how long can the trife survive in an environment like this?”

  “With access to an energy source?” Valentine replied. “It’s hard to say. We only have a two-year history with the creatures. We know they can reproduce quite quickly. We haven’t determined a potential lifespan of a single trife, let alone a nest.”

  “Based on what you know about them, what would be your educated guess?”

  Valentine was silent for a long moment. Caleb wondered if it was the longest time she had spent in silence in her life. “A little over a hundred years. But that’s still a guess.”

  “Lieutenant,” Major Lyle said. “I don’t know if this is the right move.”

  “Sir, like I said earlier, it’s your call, but you wanted to hear my thoughts.”

  “I do.”

  “It isn’t his call,” Valentine said. “Not in isolation. Not now. The Deliverance is a civilian vessel. That’s spelled out quite clearly in the protocols. Having trife on board doesn’t change that.”

  “What are you suggesting then, Doctor?” Lyle snapped.

  “A vote.”

  “We don’t have time to have everyone on this ship vote every decision.”

  “Not everyone on this ship. Everyone on the comm channel. Including my team.”

  Caleb looked over at Lieutenant Jones. The lieutenant’s jaw was tight, his anger evident.

  “Can we focus on killing the damn trife, instead of nitpicking protocol?” he said.

  “I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” Valentine said. “But the actions we take now will shape the actions we take in the future. I’m not willing to give up my seat at the table because of the trife, and neither is my team.”

  “Could somebody tell me what it is we’re planning to do?” Sho asked. “I seem to be the only one who hasn’t already worked it out.”

  “Step one; we reprogram the ship’s computer such that it will remain at a fixed distance from Proxima as long as there are trife detected on board. We don’t want the computer landing us and letting the creatures run rampant on our new homeworld. Step two, we lock down Metro. I mean sealed. No one goes in or out once we’re set. Only one identification chip should have access. Step three, we take volunteers from the remaining Marines. I only want volunteers. Our new Guardians. They’ll try to cleanse the trife from the ship. If they succeed, they follow the protocols as originally designed, at reduced strength. If they fail, when we reach Proxima we contact the ships that arrived ahead of us and make them aware of our situation. There’s a chance we’ll be able to work out a plan to either get the trife off the Deliverance or at the very least get the people of Metro out.”

  “If we can rely on the rest of the fleet to help us with the trife, why not have everyone enter Metro?” Captain Rogers asked.

  “There are two to three hundred of them right now,” Jones replied. “In twenty years, there could be three thousand. Or thirty-thousand.”

  “Enough of them to make hitting the Deliverance with a few nukes a more viable option,” Caleb said. “Let’s see the bastards survive space.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I don’t like it,” Major Lyle said. “We’re going to lock ourselves in the city, surrounded by the enemy? We have forty-thousand souls inside Metro. Why not arm them and have them help kill the trife?”

  “That’s a terrible idea,” Valentine said.

  “Why?”

  “Sir, with all due respect,” Caleb said. “I’ve been in the field almost since the beginning. I think you’d agree me and my team have a lot of experience against the xenotrife. If you give civilians guns and put them face-to-face with a trife, ninety percent of them will freeze in fear.”