Bridge, UCSBTS-27413

  Zithe’s eyes couldn’t even follow the movement as transport 501 smashed into the Gorvian Corvette’s beam cannon. No shields could hope to cushion or deflect that hit. Not when thousands of tons of transport crashed into the corvette at point eight light. The explosion that resulted threatened to blind him as he stared out the viewport: instead it left his vision spotty. He blinked hard and turned to the tactical display to witness the carnage.

  Half of the corvette was gone, shattered by the impact and the resulting explosion from their plasma beam cannon. The corvette’s other cannons continued to fire without apparent guidance or direction. Zithe immediately saw why. Fires were erupting across the hull, blowing out the hatches across what was left of the ship. He also saw several of the thirty-metra tall monsters lunging out of the hatches. Zithe resisted the urge to extend his claws. He stabbed at the display as one of the turrets turned towards his ship. “All ships, Monstero Nach Actual. That beast may be down, but it’s not out. Move in for the kill.”

  “Bichard. See if you can raise anyone on the Gudell!”

  “The Black Vises have made contact, but that was before the impact,” Bichard replied.

  Monstero Nach 06, Jump Point Prime

  Gavit still couldn’t believe his eyes: Did that just happen? “Matt can you get a read on 501?”

  “Just debris. No life-signs. But the sensors are filled with noise.”

  Gavit took a deep breath, steadying himself, and angled towards the corvette. Its shields were down giving them the perfect opportunity to attack. He just hoped that Arion hadn’t been plugged into the WSO network or he’d be mad with grief right now. “Give me a good vector Matt. We’ve lost too many friends.”

  “Monstero Nach 06, Nip Tail 03. Gavit. I’ve got eyes on a nice juicy power core. Mind clearing the way for me?”

  “You got it Deniv,” Gavit replied, then thumbed his afterburner. Several turrets turned toward him and Gavit pulled on his throttle just before a hail of plaser fire ripped through space behind him. He fingered his trigger and traced a line of fire across the turret, shredding the already weakened armor. The turret exploded in a brilliant flash. Any other cycle that would have drawn a smile across his face.

  Gavit rolled and angled towards the next turret. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a Dagger racing towards it. The nimble little recon fighter released its full ordnance load at the turret, its engines burning bright behind it. “Rimshoe two, Nach six. Cut your throttle and pull up. You’re too close.”

  It was too late; the fighter’s momentum was too much to overcome. The fighter jumped up to avoid the blast of its attack, skirting the hull of the corvette until it collided with a piece of hull plating. The fighter spun, its wing wrenched free by the impact. It plowed across the hull of the corvette before crashing into the next turret and exploding.

  Gavit grimaced. Cadet Adrick was a good guy. He liked him, had once shared a date with him. But he’d got too caught up in the attack and that mistake had got him killed.

  “Nip Three. Deniv. You’re clear.”

  “Copy that, Nach Six,” Deniv replied, his voice sober.

  “Hold fire Nip Three,” Matt called, Nobgal Eight is in your path.

  “Copy that, we see him. Holy shreg did you see that?”

  Gavit looked down and vectored his craft around. He’d heard the stories from the first Gorvian conflict, but had never believed it. A Gorvian had jumped free of the ship and onto the back of Nobgal Eight. “Frag me! Nobgal Eight!”

  Gavit fired his thrusters and thumbed his afterburners. He could only watch as the massive Gorvian smashed the canopy. Gavit’s hearts thundered in his chest as he lined up the shot. The hominid Gorvian smashed its fist into the cockpit. A shower of deep crimson sprayed out as it withdrew its hand.

  Sweat rolled across Gavit’s head, this is too much. Before he could lock his crosshairs the ejection rockets launched the pod away from the rest of the doomed craft. The back end of the cockpit cleaved a line up the Gorvian’s engorged abdomen before its massive skull impacted the canopy shattering what remained of it.

  Gavit let up on the throttle. The horror of what he just witnessed left him in a cold sweat.

  “Garg,” Matt called from under the shroud. “Garg respond.”

  Gavit didn’t even need to ask. The WSO of Nobgal Eight had joined his pilot Cheroseo in death. Gavit keyed his link. “All fighters. Keep your distance from that ship. The old stories are true. The Gorvians will jump you if they get close enough.”

  “Score one hit power core,” Deniv called over the link.

  “All units, Monstero Nach Actual. That hit just sent that thing’s power core three steps back critical. Clear the blast area.”

  “Matt…”

  An escape vector appeared on Gavit’s HUD before he could even ask and he rocketed along it. He glanced over his shoulder as the power core ruptured, venting fusion plasma into the rest of the corvette. Every window, hatch, turret and fissure in the hull disappeared in a brilliant mosaic of fire as the plasma found escape out of every point of weakness in the ship’s hull. What remained of the ship shattered, the force of the plasma fires driving the scattered pieces towards deep space.

  “No life signs,” Matt reported. “They’re all dead.”

  Bridge, UCSBTS-27413

  Zithe slumped back into his seat and sighed. His hearts refused to slow down, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. The decoy transports reverted out of slipstream around him. They were too late to add anything to the battle. He scanned the tactical display again. The Black Vises closed in on what remained of the Gudell. “Gudell Actual, Monstero Nach Actual. Do you read?”

  A static-filled image of a man in a spacesuit appeared. “Gudell Actual copies Monstero Nach Actual. Good work.”

  “Yes sir. Orders? Should we commence recovery operations?”

  Zithe heard the hatch to the bridge open. He didn’t even have to turn around. He could smell that it was Arion.

  “Copy that Monstero Nach Actual. I will take command from the Black Vises ship once aboard. We’ll send a transport ahead to the academy. Get your buoy boys out deploying that buoy right away.”

  “Yes sir,” Zithe replied and cut the link. He turned to Arion. “You heard the Captain.”

  “Is it true? Was it 501 that crashed into that corvette?”

  Zithe nodded. “We’ll commence search and recovery as soon as we can. Have the fighters scout out the ejection beacons.”

  “What about Alieha and her crew?” Arion cried out, stabbing a finger at the viewport.

  “If they were on the bridge, then their seats have beacons. We’ll find them Arion.”

  Arion snapped to attention. “Request permission to join the search effort.”

  “We all will,” Zithe replied, trying to soothe the big man. “I know what she meant to you Arion but you have to…”

  “I won’t leave her out there!”

  Zithe jumped up to meet Arion’s eyes, making sure to keep his feet in the deck loops. “You have your orders Arion! Get that buoy deployed or none of us will survive!”

  UCSB DATE: 1003.210

  Debris Field, Third Planet’s Orbit, System: T-18-E-37

  Arion almost wished the Gorvian had killed Captain Malridge. Then Blazer and Zithe would have cut him loose sooner to assist in the rescue/recovery effort. The bastard wouldn’t allow it though. He insisted that Arion assist Blazer in getting the temporary jump buoy up and running. Only after it had been finally set up did the first transport even leave the system to relay what happened. Blazer was still back near the jump point per Captain Malridge’s orders.

  It took the better part of two hects to establish the jump buoy in a stable position. Even then Blazer had offered no guarantee as to how long it would last. Meanwhile the others sifted through the wreckage of the battle zone for survivors and the dead. To that point they’d only managed to find the mutilated bodies of the pilots who’d died died. There was no sign at all of transport 501.

  After they’d finished establishing the buoy, Bichard detected the faintest trace of the bridge seat beacons from Transport 501. Three transports raced after the radio signal for several hects, triangulating its location and course towards the system’s third planet. Finding the growing field of debris was only the first problem; now they had to contend with the debris’ speed. The momentum from the impact continued still, driving the field on at over a quarter the speed of light out of the system.

  Arion sat in the back of an open shuttle moving ahead of its transport, his ACHES sealed against the vacuum. He felt a yawn coming on and stifled it. He’d been up over a full cycle, and the stims just weren’t cutting it anymore. As a self-healer, they never lasted as long as advertised. Now it was even worse.

  “You all right Arion?” Temblin asked.

  “I’m Fine.” Arion turned towards the cockpit: the pilots were from the Red Force, not that that matters anymore. “How far out are we?”

  “Give me a pulse,” the pilot replied. “We’re just coming up on the debris field now.”

  Arion looked at the transport behind them and its other three shuttles. They had to be careful at these speeds. One wrong move and a rescue party might have to come after them. The hull rang, echoing through the structure and into Arion’s suit as chunks of debris bounced off the hull.

  “Okay, we’re here. Grab your kit and see what you can find. Hey Scott!”

  Arion looked back at the pilot.

  “Oric was my friend. Please try to find him.”

  Arion didn’t say a word and jetted out into the debris field, Temblin and the three other teams hot on his heels. Once in the debris field they were able to pick up three distinct beacons, one far weaker than the others. The first wasn’t far, and it wasn’t a seat beacon, but a suit beacon. Watching for it, Arion spotted Oric. His bright yellow cadet’s uniform almost shone in the dim light. His arms and legs were splayed out and his head was at an unnatural angle. It was clear that he’d been out of his seat when he was killed.

  Arion and Temblin flitted up to the body as two more members of Oric’s team arrived. “We’ve got him!”

  Arion wanted to move on, but Temblin hung back and unfurled a bright orange body bag, floating it out beside the corpse. Arion couldn’t leave him behind and waited as they began to force Oric’s arms and legs back together so he would fit. Ice shattered on Oric’s shoulders when they forced his arms against his sides. They had shattered more than just some surface ice. When they went to move his legs together, one flopped about with far too much ease, only the fabric of the suit keeping the limb in place. With as much reverence as they could manage, the four of them slid Oric’s body into the bag and sealed it. His two teammates then jetted back to their shuttle as arriving vessels began releasing their teams.

  “Let’s go Temblin. The next beacon’s not far.”

  Temblin nodded and they leapt off the remains of the bridge hatch towards the next beacon. Arion recognized the source as they approached the bottom of the seat, it was the command chair. They flipped it over and revealed Officer Marmeh. His skull had been caved in by a girder, a look of shocked surprise still registering on his face. Arion pulled out his cutting torch for the grim work ahead and began to dismantle the seat.

  Careful not to damage Marmeh’s body, he and Temblin hacked away at the seat. Two other teams soon arrived and began on the other side. It soon became apparent however that there was little more they could do. Officer Marmeh’s body had frozen to the seat and any attempts to remove him would require far too much time.

  Arion turned to the other teams. “Take him back to the transport. We’ll defrost him later.”

  “That was cold Arion,” Temblin commented.

  “We haven’t got time for pleasantries,” Arion replied. “We still have to find Alieha. How’s your air?”

  “I’ve got enough. After you.”

  Like a wolf following a scent Arion vaulted off in pursuit of Alieha’s seat beacon. The beacon kept fading however, reflecting off the trail of debris, leading away from the shattered bridge. Soon however the seat came into view. Alieha’s feet dangled beneath the console, the angle enough to tell him that it had pinned her to the seat, or worse.

  Arion tried to prepare himself before he moved around the console. He would see the woman he loved smashed against her seat and exposed to vacuum, a look of horror on her decompression-ravaged face. As he came around the console that was not what he found. Instead he found nothing but the seat back. The impact had shoved the console back with enough force to cut her in two. He felt bile in the back of this throat and swallowed it. I can’t risk getting sick in my helmet. He looked around, trying to find the rest of her body, but couldn’t see it. Without a beacon, there was little chance he ever would.

  Arion let himself float, unable to act, his resolve gone. How could I have left things with her that way? Why did I say what I did? Why couldn’t I say I loved her one last time before she left?

  “Whoa, is that just her legs?” Temblin asked as he grabbed hold of the seat and console.

  “Yeah,” Arion replied and looked back at the seat. Crystallized blood matted the back of it and small particles floated around.

  Temblin moved in closer and batted at one of the crystals. “Hey Arion. Did Alieha have a prosthetic spine?”

  The question caught Arion sideways and he jetted in closer. Pain and anger were replaced by a sense of curious concern. Nearing the seat, he spotted some segments of artificial spine in Temblin’s hand. “What the Sheol?! She never said anything about that to me.”

  “Yeah well this isn’t blood either, not really. It’s artificial, the kind they put into biodroid limbs. Real blood would have evaporated by now. Thing is, this shit is temporary, it isn’t supposed to last all that long. It mixes with your own blood, altering the biodroid bits so they won’t get rejected, then dissipates.”

  Arion grabbed one of the black crystalline clumps as it floated in front of him. It collapsed under his grip. “Maybe that’s why she went to medical so much. It must act differently with artificial spines.”

  “I suppose. But where’s the rest of her?”

  Arion looked around. Frozen bits of artificial blood glinted in the local starlight making a ragged trail away from the rest of the debris field. He turned towards her dangling legs and caught the light of two more cadets rocketing towards them. He couldn’t bear to think that the rest of her body might be lost and turned to Temblin. “I’m going to scout ahead. You help those two get her free of this.”

  “Are you sure you want to go alone?”

  Arion didn’t answer. Turning, he calculated where the bits of frozen artificial blood were leading and jetted off. The trail led him away from the bulk of the debris. Scattered bits of hull and deck plating appeared at random, hidden in the darkness until his light reflected off shiny patches. Soon however, the trail thinned out and disappeared altogether. Arion continued to drift scanning for any sign or indication. A light caught his eye.

  A jittering orb poked out from behind a blackened bit of hull plate. Could that be Alieha? Did she not pass beyond and remain as an orb? He fired his jets again to close on the plate. As it rotated he caught a glimpse of a hand coming into view. Arion’s hearts leapt, and then sank. There was no way she would be alive. The ungloved hand was just further proof.

  He steeled his nerves and prepared for the worst. As he approached, the orb flitted towards him. It was not Alieha, but the ship’s resident orb. It filled his mind with imagery of the attack, of Alieha piloting the ship onto a collision course with the corvette, but it was all jumbled and confused.

  “Go away,” Arion yelled, batting at the ethereal form and sending himself into a spin. The last thing I need is a damned orb intruding on my heartache. “Go let the others know where we are.”

  The orb twittered at him and sped away, a note of sadness in its response.

  Arion fired his jets to slow his approach and grabbed hold of the metal plate. He closed his eyes for a moment and began to crawl around the buckled sheet. He hoped that she wouldn’t be facing him. Dead bodies didn’t bother him the way they had once done. Special Ops training had hardened him against that. Even seeing his friends dead didn’t stop him. They’d all died so many times in the simulations, that he’d become numb to the sight. But this was Alieha, he’d never seen her dead, or dying, and this was no simulation.

  He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when he caught his first glimpse of her. Her long ebon hair floated before him, unencumbered by gravity. It obscured her face and he was grateful for that. He looked her over, one arm hung limp beside her, reacting to the movements in the plate. He stared at the hand. The skin looked cold, but pliable, not frozen and… Twisting about he spotted her other hand. Her delicate nails were gone, exposing ravaged skin and tissue where her fingers had dug into the metal plate.

  Arion worked to calm his breath and crawled across the plate. Alieha’s spilled entrails were the wrong color. They had that same odd tint that all bio-droid organs had. What had happened to her to require such massive use of artificial body parts?

  His father’s words wriggled into his mind as he reached out to touch her still pliable tanned skin, but he shook them off. It was his father’s religion which denounced such life-saving measures. Arion had long since cast those notions aside.

  Arion crawled up the plate and pushed the hair out of Alieha’s face. If it weren’t for the splashes of artificial blood and the metal plate he would swear that she was sleeping. Holding back tears, he pushed her hair further away and found that the top of her head had been caved in. Clear ceramic skull fragments jutted out from beneath her scalp revealing a mass of synthetic brain neurofibers.

  Arion recoiled at the sight, jerking his hand away. When he turned back to look at Alieha’s face her eye was open. Convulsions rippled through her torso and Arion scrambled back, setting the plate into a spin. He halted just short of the edge and watched as she began to pull free of the plate. Artificial skin tore away from her face, spilling more crystallized blood as she twisted her neck to look at him.