Star Carrier (Lost Colonies Trilogy Book 3) (24 page)

-42-

Lorn quickly lost consciousness, not due to pain, shock or even loss of blood, but rather to lack of oxygen.

The Stroj were infamously hard to kill. We went to work on him, patching his suit and transfusing air, heat and power from ours into his.

“Why do you bother?” Vogel complained. “That monster should be left to die here.”

“You’ve got a point,” I admitted. “But he’s one of the few members of his people with whom we’ve managed to have successful negotiations. If we let him die now, who will speak for us among his kind?”

Vogel shook his head. “Forget diplomacy. Kill them all, I say.”

I looked at him sternly. “They’ve fought us before, but they’re at peace with us for now. I consider your variants to be more dangerous.”

Vogel rolled his eyes and walked carefully past the crumpled form of the Stroj on the deck. He wanted nothing to do with the colonist. “We have to find the nexus that controls this station,” he said. “Have your marines cleared the rest of the module?”

Morris returned at the mention of marines, and he nodded. “I think I found what you’re talking about up ahead. The Stroj made their last stand there.”

Vogel and Morris moved off into the dim-lit passages. K-19 quietly crawled in their wake. After making sure Lorn would survive, I followed them.

When I got to the heart of the control module, I found it to be surprisingly roomy. We were able to all fit, even Lorn, who the marines carried with them.

We cleared the bodies of the fallen Stroj and Vogel began to work with the control panels immediately. K-19 helped with both efforts.

They soon had the power on, and the center began to warm up. We heard hissing air as the chambers were repressurized.

“That’s your plan?” Lorn asked from the floor.

We turned together, startled, to see him sitting up. His legs were both a mess, but he was conscious and seemed unconcerned by the state of his body.

“You’re going to live here?” he asked. “What happened to your ship, Sparhawk?”

“
Defiant
is in prime fighting condition,” I assured him. “We’re not here for safety’s sake. In fact, I can hardly think of a more unsafe spot in the galaxy.”

“Really? How can that be? Your variants have defeated us. They’ve driven us back from this system and killed millions of my people.”

I winced, suspecting his words were all too truthful.

“This unit, K-19, isn’t like the other variants,” Vogel said. “He’s under our control, loyal to Earth. The others are acting on their own recognizance.”

“I don’t believe that. What about it, Sparhawk? Are the variants all rebels? Mutineers?”

My mouth opened to answer, but I couldn’t lie to him. Such an act went too strongly against my convictions. Under the best of circumstances, it was hard enough for me to tell even an enemy a deliberate untruth. But in this case, Lorn was a victim of our variants as much as anyone else out here was. To lie to a prisoner in our power whose civilization had been demolished by creatures we’d built and released for precisely that purpose… it seemed unconscionable.

“They are and they aren’t,” I said. “A faction among Earthlings caused them to go on this rampage. We—my crew and myself—are attempting to fix that error.”

“Really?” Lorn asked. “Now, that is a strange outlook on the universe. People say that the Stroj are mad-things because we covet trophies of flesh from our enemies. But here you are trying to fix a situation that’s obviously to your benefit.”

“Our benefit?” Vogel demanded suddenly. “How so?”

“Is it not self-evident?” Lorn asked. “With my people in retreat, there’s little out here to stop the superior fleets of Earth. From my point of view, you’ve won this battle of survival between our peoples, and yet Sparhawk is squandering your best opportunity to rid yourself of colonists once and for all.”

I turned to him, seeing an earnest expression on his face. He meant what he was saying.

“I understand how you might think of us that way,” I said, “but Star Guard is sworn to defend all humanity—not just those born recently on Earth. As strange as it may seem, Lorn, I’m here to defend your people from the variant fleets.”

“That is a noble goal,” he said snidely, “but one that’s too late in coming. We’ve been defeated. We’ve lost most of our fleet, and we’ve only taken down a few of your battleships. We didn’t fight ruthlessly enough. We tried to defend every world, and by doing so, we lost them all.”

I looked at him, troubled. “Has your home world been destroyed like this one?” I asked him.

“No. Not yet. Transmissions from our star systems indicate it’s just a matter of time, however. Your variant fleet is heading toward our home star, hopping from one system to another, destroying everyone they meet.”

“In that case,” I said, “you should help us. Tell us how to operate this great machine.”

He laughed. It was a strange, unnatural sound. “Why would I do that? So you can open a pathway back to Earth? Your fleet of four ships is pathetic—oh yes, we’ve counted your battle cruisers. We’ve been watching you quietly while you slink around among our dead.”

There was no point in correcting him about our fleet. Three of them belonged to the Betas—and he was right, even working together we represented a pathetically weak force.

“How did you evade the variants when they came here?” I asked.

“We’re partly flesh, not just machines,” Lorn replied. He turned suddenly on Vogel. “That’s how your creations detect their targets. Am I right? With biochemical signatures?”

Vogel had been busy working on the data core, but he was still listening to us. He squirmed uncertainly until K-19 spoke up.

“That’s correct,” the variant said. “We know flesh when we detect it, through spectral-analysis, odor, chemical trails on surfaces—”

Lorn shut up the variant with a wave of his claw-like hand. “Right. We figured that out after you destroy a few of our worlds. When places like this were abandoned, they were always left untouched by the invading ships.”

I frowned. I still wasn’t quite getting what he was saying. “But you were here, and you would have given off signatures. Why didn’t the variants destroy this structure?”

Lorn levered himself around in a circle to face me. He looked proud.

“When we figured out what they were searching for, we disguised ourselves. Look over these suits, monster,” he said, addressing K-19. “If they were unbroken, could you tell there’s a biological being inside?”

K-19 investigated the spacesuits. After a few seconds, he turned back to the group. “Perhaps if I was close enough to perform an optical observation, I would have noticed humanoid shapes in motion. However—”

“The answer is ‘no’, robot,” Lorn interrupted. “We altered these suits to hide our stinks and droppings from you. After you stranded me in space, Sparhawk, I managed to get to this system. I then gathered together a small crew on a cramped ship. We performed gathering missions on local colonies.”

“You mean you played pirate again,” I said, “raiding helpless colonists.”

“Yes, but with a much smaller force,” Lorn went on, seeming to miss my rebuke entirely. “When the variant fleet began invading our star systems and destroying them, I fled at first. We were finally trapped here, unable to withdraw farther.”

“Did you run out of fuel? Credits?” I asked.

He made an airy gesture. “The details are unimportant and humiliating. We realized we would be found in a ship, but we might survive on a harmless looking structure like this—if it appeared lifeless when scanned.”

“But…” Morris said, frowning, “I don’t get it. We came aboard finding evidence of a fight. There are bodies and junk everywhere. If the variants didn’t do that, who did?”

“The original crewmen, of course,” Lorn said.

The others looked baffled, but I laughed grimly. “I get it. You killed your own people.”

Lorn shrugged. “What of it? There was little time. We couldn’t come aboard and build specialized suits for all of them. If we had left them alone, the variants would have detected them and destroyed them anyway. In effect, we saved this structure and ourselves due to our quick thinking and effective action.”

“What went wrong with your plan, then?” I asked. “Why are you still here, rattling around in this corpse of a system?”

“They destroyed every starship circling these stars! They were thorough about that. They left us nothing to escape in. I’m a resourceful man, but I can’t build an entire spaceship out of salvaged parts.”

“What about operating the bridge projector? Why not escape that way?”

“We’ve considered it,” he admitted. “But we lacked the technical know-how. Even experimentation would be dangerous. If the variants left behind some hidden fighters, as we’ve seen them do elsewhere, we calculated they’d see the star hiccup and come to investigate.”

“What was your long-term plan to survive, then?” I asked. “You always have one.”

Lorn smiled grimly. “You, Sparhawk. You’re the plan.”

Alarmed, my people looked around and gripped their weapons.

“Don’t worry. We obviously failed to take you out when you got here. But we sent out an SOS using an FTL signal. Apparently, someone got it because you came.”

I nodded slowly. The situation had become clear at last. Perez had sent us out here, not as part of some kind of grand effort to stop the variants. He’d done it because he’d gotten a call for help at this location.

I found the truth disappointing. We’d come so far, been through so much, for little or no gain.

“Lorn,” I said to the Stroj. “We have two options at this point. We can leave you here to die, or you can help us get this machine working right now.”

“Why those two alone?” he asked. “I can think of a dozen more pleasant possibilities.”

I quickly explained to him that the Beta ships were pursuing us, and they’d be here shortly. We had to either flee, or create a bridge and exit the system.

“And where do you wish to go?” he asked me.

“Home, I think. To Earth. I would pursue the Star Carrier if I knew where she was, but I don’t.”

He made a face of twisted disgust. “Of course you would. You’d sacrifice yourselves in an instant to save colonists like myself.”

I looked at him squarely. “Yes, I would—if I thought it could work.”

He shook his head. “Unbelievable pride and arrogance,” he said. “You blame us for being seekers of glory, of risking everything for a shred of flesh as a trophy. But you’re no less insane in your quests.”

Deciding it wasn’t worth trying to explain it to him, I shrugged.

“Be that as it may, you’re welcome to come with us if you help me reach my goals. You’ll be treated as a prisoner of war, but that’s better than facing three Beta battle cruisers with your legs torn off.”

He considered the offer for several seconds.

“I want one more thing,” he said, pointing a long-nailed finger at Director Vogel, who shrank back in alarm. “I demand a strip of his flesh.”

“No,” I said firmly. “You’ll gain your life, or nothing. It’s up to you—but decide quickly. We have little time to spare.”

Lorn considered my offer until I became irate. Finally, he reluctantly agreed.

We all began to work in earnest helping Vogel at his direction. I couldn’t help but notice that Lorn was distracted. He kept studying Vogel the way a starving man might study a thick steak.

-43-

“The first thing you need to do is get the power-stream flowing,” Lorn told us. “In fact, it may already be too late for that.”

“How do we do it?” I demanded.

Lorn shrugged. “You’ll have to purge the capacitor-capsule assembly and reconnect the couplings for the power to be transferred to this station. That’s assuming, of course, the collectors circling the binary stars haven’t been destroyed.”

Morris and I looked over the rubble. There seemed to be countless color-coded leads that had been ripped loose or partially burnt.

Morris caught my eye. “It’ll take a week, Captain! We’ll have to run.”

“Our deal still stands, Sparhawk!” Lorn barked, having overheard. “I’m helping in good faith, and I demand you get me off this—”

I rushed to him, where he still sat crippled on the floor. I drew my blade in a smooth motion, thumbing on the power.

“Our bargain stated you would help me get this station operating,” I told him. “If you can’t do that, I’m honor-bound
not
to take you with us. In fact, I’d prefer to slay you here than see you suffer at the hands of the Betas. Therefore, as a mercy—”

“There might be an easier way,” Lorn said, interrupting. “I just thought of it.”

His eyes were watching the sizzling tip of my blade, which never strayed from his face.

“Let’s hear it,” I said.

“Outside on the hull—the leads could be shunted there. Bypass this wrecked area and patch it to the console. I’m not sure if you’re equipped for such work in vacuum, but—”

I whirled toward Director Vogel. “Summon K-19,” I said. “Get him on it.”

Vogel nodded and moved away. Lorn looked at him in surprise.

“The creator of all that is evil obeys you? What’s more, he gives you not a single word of complaint about your imperious tone? You’ve trained your villains well, Sparhawk. They’re your creatures to command, clearly.”

Glancing at him darkly, I left him on the floor. Over my shoulder I said, “You’d best hope they can get this station operating, Lorn. You’re continued existence depends on it.”

“Get the power-stream flowing again. I’ll do the rest.”

After Vogel had K-19 crawling toward the damaged region on the exterior of the hull, I sent him to the control panels.

“Figure out how to operate it,” I said. “You’re our only hope in that department.”

“What?” Vogel demanded. “Lorn must teach me how to operate the system.”

“No,” I said, “he’ll trick us somehow. You must gain direct control.”

Vogel shook his head doubtfully. “I’ll try, Captain, but this is essentially alien technology. I know the principles, but to operate it… I’ll do my best.”

He limped down to the panels and began poking at them.

Nervously, I watched K-19 work. The variant was a master of efficient operation. His hands, blades, grippers and welding-claws flashed in continuous motion. A dozen wires were shunted and mended, then a hundred more.

Very slowly, he crawled over the hull, the region under his carapace a continuous blur of activity.

“Captain?” Yamada said, calling via my implant. “We’ve got a target-lock incoming from the Beta ships. They’re inbound. They’re picking up speed.”

“How much time do we have?”

“Thirty-nine minutes before we’re in range of their primary cannons.”

My mind chewed that number over. To get the power-stream to reach the station from the central stars would take at least ten of that. To affect repairs, reboot the system, warm the core and project a bridge—I was only guessing, but it had to be twenty more. We’d be cutting it close to say the very least.

“Thank you,” I told Yamada. “Tell Durris to stand by for an emergency evacuation. Have him position
Defiant
between the enemy and this structure.”

“Just getting the shuttle back to our ship will take you several more minutes, Captain, I—”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Commander,” I said firmly.

I went below again, into the heart of the station. The derelict was still operating only on emergency power, but at least the heat, lights and power were flowing. It wasn’t enough to ignite the projectors, of course, but it was enough to move about the place more naturally.

Returning to Lorn, I found him up on a chair. He was repairing his flesh with stolen bits of his former comrades, those who’d been freshly killed by Morris and his marines.

“I’ll be up and walking in a few minutes,” he told me. “Don’t trouble to help.”

His words were spoken sarcastically as we both knew I had no intention of helping him repair himself. It was all I could do not to curl my lip as I watched him work.

“We might not make it,” I said, “but it’ll be best if you help us lay-in a destination for the new bridge, in case we do.”

He looked at me in surprise.

“What?” he said. “Are you mad? We can’t do anything fancy like that. We’ll have to fire up the projector and hope that it works at all.”

Losing control of myself momentarily, I grabbed up a wad of his tunic.

“You said you could get this station operating,” I said. “I’m going to hold you to your word.”

“I did say that, and so it
will
be done. We’ll have an ER bridge here, a perfect tunnel through hyperspace built to order. But no one said anything about changing our destination.”

Glaring at him, I felt sure I’d been tricked. “Where does it lead to, then?” I demanded. “Where will we go if we enter this breach?”

He looked at me thoughtfully. “I believe it’s set to go to Earth. It will create a very small breach, of course. We used this system to transport pods into your system. Where did you think all those spies have been coming from?”

He laughed, and I blinked thoughtfully.

He was right. It’d been inexplicable to many in Star Guard that the Stroj had, for so long, been able to infiltrate our world.

It also made sense that the Stroj agent who’d played the part of Admiral Perez back on Earth would know of this place, even the exact coordinates, if he’d come from here originally.

Releasing his tunic, I straightened up and took in a deep, relaxing breath.

“That’s excellent news. Earth is exactly where we want to go.”

“You see? You let your mind get all twisted up needlessly. Let Lorn guide you, and help you. No one has lived to regret it.”

I didn’t find the double-meaning of his words encouraging. He went back to tinkering with his damaged legs, and soon had them buzzing and clicking again.

Perhaps I’d made a mistake trusting him, but it was a risk I felt I must take.

While everyone else worked frantically over the next fateful minutes, I dared to hope my plans would come to fruition. The Beta ships—it was all down to them. If they came back to Earth with us, then the sole battleship defending Earth would be forced to come out and do battle with them.

That was when I’d make my move on the Council, ending their illegal reign. They’d be undefended when the last ship circling Earth moved out past the Moon.

Time flew by. Long before the stellar power-stream had filled the bridge-projector, Durris called me in a panic.

“They’re going to be on us at any moment, Captain!” he called.

“Move away,” I said. “Do an orbit of the dead planet at speed, coming back around to our position. We need more time.”

He was quiet for a second. I knew he was working his table, seeking answers. “It’s… it might work. They’ll probably lash our stern with long-range fire.”

“Then you’d best get underway,” I told him.

“But sir, what if they don’t take the bait?” he asked. “They must be watching us. They know we’ve been sitting here at this station, fiddling with it. They could destroy it as an afterthought.”

“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “I’ve got quite a bit of experience with Betas. They aren’t imaginative. They’ll figure they can destroy this station at their leisure after
Defiant
has been defeated.”

“All right,
Defiant
out.”

Time crawled after that. Somehow, knowing death was approaching from out of the blackness made each instant seem like an eternity.

My eyes, like those of every human on the station, kept flashing up to the observation screens. We couldn’t see the Beta ships, they were too far out, but they were coming. When they did arrive, we might only see a blinding flash of energy before they destroyed us all.

“The variant is finished,” Morris told me. “Vogel is struggling with the controls.”

I scrambled up a tube to where I found Vogel, huddled over a panel of baffling instruments. When I arrived, I saw him reach up a thin-boned hand to nudge a setting.

“Halt!” I ordered.

He pulled back his hand as if it had been bitten.

“What, Captain…? You startled me.”

“The coordinates are set for Earth,” I told him. “I’m satisfied with that arrangement.”

He frowned, but he nodded. Then he scratched his head and returned his attention to the controls.

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” he said.

“Simple? How is a bridge projector that creates a hyperspace tube ‘simple’ by any definition?”

“Not the device itself, it’s a wonder of engineering. I’m talking about this control mechanism. It doesn’t seem to provide a destination you can program into it. That involves another component, I believe.”

“It hardly matters now,” I said. “Come, we must get on the shuttle.
Defiant
will be coming around to our position shortly. We must enter the breach with her.”

He looked at me with fresh alarm.

“That’s not possible!” he said. “We’ll be smashed like a bug.
Defiant
is moving at great speed. In the shuttle, due to inertia—”

“I know all about that. Come with me.”

We scrambled out of the chamber, and toward the waiting shuttle. Once aboard, we watched as K-19 loaded himself laboriously. The variant seemed to be blurringly fast except when it came to folding up his spidery legs.

“Come on, come on,” Morris chanted.

At last, we were all loaded. I reached for the controls personally.

Vogel, at my side, cleared his throat.

“What is it?” I demanded.

“Lorn isn’t aboard yet.”

I released a hiss of frustration. Into my local chat channel, I fired a short stream of curses. “Lorn, if this is your idea of a delaying tactic it will be your last. If you’re not aboard this craft in ten seconds—”

A hobbling figure appeared outside my forward viewports. He waved then climbed in, swinging himself into a seat.

The hatch folded shut, and we lifted off. We spiraled away from the structure then spun around toward it. Gaining speed, I gave the tiny ship all the thrust I could.

We shook and our faces rippled as gravity pulled our cheeks from our gums. Pressed back into our seats, we plunged into the funnel of steel struts.

I could see ahead that the small end of the funnel was a glowing nimbus, a ring of ghostly fire. I aimed at that point, having no detection equipment that could guide us better than the human eye.

Vogel was earnestly babbling something, but I couldn’t hear it. With a final burst of speed, we entered the breach, and we vanished.