Endeavour (Atlantia Series Book 4) Read online

  The darkened interior of the ventilation shaft beckoned, entirely unlit and panelled in smooth metal that reflected the searching flashlight beams.

  ‘How far do we have to go down there?’ Andaim asked.

  ‘About two hundred cubits,’ Emma replied. ‘The shaft forks, we take the right turn and will be over the holds within a few minutes.’

  ‘Have you been down here before?’ Evelyn asked.

  ‘Twice,’ Emma replied. ‘Endeavour had a drill which we were all required to perform twice–monthly that included a means of avoiding a fire in the hold. This was the main route out.’

  Emma released Evelyn’s hand and without hesitation she climbed into the shaft. Lieutenant C’rairn peered into the shaft as he prepared to follow Emma.

  ‘If this doesn’t work, we’re all shafted.’

  Andaim groaned as he shoved the lieutenant forward and then followed him in. Two Marines climbed in after the commander and Evelyn followed as the Special Forces troops guarded the entrance.

  The ventilation shaft had been modified to be able to support the weight of a crew attempting to escape an on–board fire, but the panels were not made of a metal that was strong enough to allow silent movement. The panels rattled and shuddered as they made their way through, the Marines pulling out flash lights from their webbing to illuminate the way. The beams of blue light flashed this way and that, reflecting off the polished metal walls as they crawled through the narrow confines toward the holds. Evelyn could see Emma at the front, no longer hindered by her lack of sight as she felt her way forward. Ahead, Evelyn could also see the right fork in the shaft appear and Emma turned abruptly and vanished into the new passage.

  ‘This really is what I call the blind leading the blind,’ Lieutenant C’rairn said from ahead.

  ‘Will you cut it out?’ General Bra’hiv uttered.

  Evelyn said nothing as she followed them down the new passage and then came up short as Emma abruptly stopped ahead. Emma raised a clenched fist and held it aloft, the Marines behind instinctively freezing. Evelyn peered ahead through the gloom and spotted a grate in the floor of the shaft through which Emma was peering cautiously.

  ‘What can you see?’ Bra’hiv asked.

  Emma remained silent as she peered down into the darkness for several long seconds. When she replied her voice was a whisper.

  ‘It’s too dark, I can’t see anything moving from here.’

  Evelyn pulled her pistol from its holster as around her the Marines reactivated their plasma rifles. She watched as Bra’hiv helped Emma lift the grate from the floor of the shaft and slide it to one side. Emma waited on the far side of the hole that they had created as the general activated his plasma rifle and pulled a flare from a pouch on his webbing. Bra’hiv tore the cap off the flare and dropped it into the darkened holds below. Immediately the general followed the flare and jumped into the darkness.

  The Marines tumbled in pursuit of their general, dropping one by one into the cavity and down into the hold. Evelyn found herself pushed along as others tried to pass and before she knew it she dropped down into the hold and landed heavily in the darkness. Evelyn leapt to one side as quickly as she could to avoid the other Marines following her down and in the flickering light of the flare she looked around, relieved only that hordes of screaming animals had not descended upon them from the darkness.

  To her amazement the hold was not filled with stored goods as she would have expected Endeavour to have carried. Instead, it was filled with cables and conduits that all led to a central black cube atop which was mounted a display panel and keyboard. The power cables were hastily arranged, many of them spliced from existing power cables fixed when the ship was built. The entire hold surfaces glittered with ice crystals, the temperature far lower than the rest of the ship, as though sealed off for countless decades. Evelyn watched as the rest of the Marines and the Special Forces troops descended into the hold, each of them immediately taking up firing positions and aiming out into the darkness that surrounded them.

  The general looked around for a long moment as the flashlights mounted upon their rifles sliced into the darkness, but nothing moved, no sign of the dangerous species trapped in the ships for’ard holds.

  ‘I don’t see an easy way out of here,’ Lieutenant Riaz called as he observed the walls of the hold. ‘One hatch going for’ard to where all those capsules are, nothing heading aft. We must be in the hold compartment furthest aft.’

  Evelyn looked at the lieutenant and then at Emma, who was crouching and looking directly at the control console in the centre of the hold.

  ‘What is this place?’ Meyanna asked.

  Emma’s voice was haunted as she replied. ‘This is where it all began.’

  ‘Where what began?’ Bra’hiv demanded.

  Emma did not reply as she stood up and walked silently towards the console. With a start Evelyn realise that somehow Emma could see where she was going in the absolute darkness and despite her blindness, as if guided by some unseen force. On impulse Evelyn stood up and followed, one hand still gripping her pistol.

  Emma strode up to the console and look down at it as with one hand she caressed the side of the panels one by one, walking around the circumference of the console as if seeing it for the very first time. Evelyn watched in silence and waited to see what would happen next.

  ‘What the hell is she doing?’

  Lieutenant Riaz sounded nervous, his weapon still pulled tightly into his shoulder as he swept and surveyed the hold for any sign of attack.

  Nobody replied, everybody watching in silence as Emma came to stand once again before the console and spoke loudly and clearly enough for everybody to hear.

  ‘We need to switch this on.’

  Evelyn stared at the console. ‘What is it? Why do you want to turn it on?’

  Emma turned to look at Evelyn over her shoulder, as though she could see now for the first time. ‘Because this is the only way out of here.’

  ‘I don’t like this,’ Andaim said. ‘Let’s just get the hell out of here as fast as we can.’

  ‘We cannot go anywhere now without this,’ Emma said. ‘Either we turn this on or we’re trapped here forever.’

  Before Evelyn could react Lieutenant Riaz strode up to Emma’s side as he raised his rifle and pointed the barrel directly at her head.

  ‘You either explain this or we leave you here,’ he snapped. ‘You didn’t say anything about this place.’

  Emma appeared completely unafraid as she turned to look at Riaz, that tiny small curling once more from the corner of her lips.

  ‘This is God,’ Emma said simply, and gestured at the control panel.

  Evelyn felt something uncomfortable shifting inside of her, as though she were witnessing something paranormal or a childhood fear realised. She looked at the console and its simple display, and then at the vast network of power cables and conduits all leading to it. Huge amounts of power had been directed towards the single console without any explanation for why it would be located so deep within the ship. As far as she could recollect, Endeavour was stocked to maximum capacity with supplies designed to last decades in orbit around unknown worlds or crossing the vast empty void of space. There were no supercomputers aboard the bridge, let alone the holds.

  ‘God?’ Meyanna echoed. ‘You think this is your leader?’

  ‘This is everybody’s leader,’ Emma replied as though it were obvious.

  ‘This damned well shouldn’t be here,’ Bra’hiv uttered as he surveyed the holds and sought a way out. ‘We’re not turning that thing on, no matter what.’

  Evelyn was about to reply when the silence was shattered by a massive crash as something slammed into the for’ard hatch. The soldiers scattered to reposition and face the source of the noise, and as she watched she saw dents appearing in the hatch doorways as something hammered at them from the other side.

  Emma’s voice broke above the terrible din. ‘You either turn this on or we’re stuck here
to face whatever is going to come through that hatch!’

  The soldiers looked at General Bra’hiv, their rifles aimed at the damaged hatch as it was pummelled, the blows echoing around the hold. Evelyn waited a moment longer and then despite her fear she leapt up to the console and with a single movement she activated the terminal.

  ‘Evelyn, no!’ Andaim yelled.

  Evelyn stepped back from the console and watched as despite the bitter cold a small red light activated and began flashing as the system started to auto–boot. Although the screen was covered in frost she saw it begin to glow a bright blue, the light illuminating Emma’s face with a ghostly glow. Behind them the sound of rending metal screeched as something battered the hatch doors with inhuman strength, straining the rivets.

  ‘They must’ve heard us come through!’ Andaim yelled.

  ‘Hold your fire,’ the general shouted. ‘Wait until the hatch fails and then give them everything at once!’

  The Marines and Special Forces troops formed a broad semicircle, their rifles all pointing at the hatch as it shuddered and twisted under the blows. Evelyn backed up alongside Emma, who appeared oblivious to the danger so close by, staring instead intently at the glowing screen as though by doing so she could save them all.

  The screen began to flash, flickering as though the power was disrupted, and then it settled down again. Although she had heard nothing, Evelyn was surprised when Emma started speaking to the screen.

  ‘You need to stop them,’ Emma said.

  Evelyn jerked in shock as the hatch suddenly buckled and one of the hinges smashed apart and spun through the air toward them, catching the light as it tumbled end over end. The rest of the hatch swung awkwardly open, hanging from one hinge as it was battered aside and a massive Ogrin blundered into the hold, its huge muscular arms covered in cuts that trickled blood into its immense palms as it struggled against the zero gravity. Over nine feet tall and with pale, mottled skin and dull, murderous eyes, it let out a hellish cry as it rushed toward the soldiers.

  ***

  XXVII

  Arcadia’s bridge was silent as Mikhain walked back onto the command platform. The command crew watched as he took his place in the captain’s chair and surveyed the tactical displays around him.

  ‘Status report?’

  Lieutenant Scott moved to the captain’s side as he relayed the latest data.

  ‘All fighters deployed, shields and all defensive measures at one hundred per cent.’ Scott looked down at Mikhain as he sat in the chair. ‘Are you alright, captain?’

  Mikhain sucked in a deep lung full of air and dragged one hand down his face as he glanced up at Scott.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ he replied without elaboration. ‘Where is the XO?’

  Mikhain had already looked across the entire bridge and could see no sign of the Executive Officer despite having left him in command.

  ‘I believe that he is in his quarters,’ Scott replied, and then added apologetically: ‘He left me in command, captain.’

  Mikhain raised an eyebrow as a new thought crossed his mind. ‘Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea.’

  Scott said nothing, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. Mikhain glanced around at the other offices around him, most of whom were engrossed in their work, their faces hovering close to display screens and taking no notice of the conversation on the command platform.

  ‘I have my doubts about D’jimon’s capacity for command,’ Mikhain said quietly so that only Scott could hear him.

  Lieutenant Scott stood for a long moment as he digested this new information and considered his response.

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that captain,’ he replied. ‘I did not realise that the XO was proving to be a problem.’

  Mikhain inclined his head in acquiescence. ‘Nor did I until it was too late,’ he admitted. ‘My problem is that I’m not sure what to do about it. I do not have a suitable replacement for him.’

  Lieutenant Scott remained the epitome of discretion. ‘I’m sure that you’ll find an officer aboard who is capable of taking on the role, captain.’

  Mikhain allowed his gaze to drift up to the young officer. ‘Please do let me know if you can think of anybody who would like to apply for the role.’

  Scott stared down at the captain and this time the very vaguest hint of excitement flickered across his features.

  ‘I’ll do that captain,’ he replied. ‘In fact I think that I have the perfect person for the job if you’ll allow me to…’

  ‘Contact bearing three–five–one, elevation five–zero!’ Lieutenant Shah yelled loudly enough to make everybody on the bridge jump out of their skin.

  Mikhain leaped out of his chair as he saw the new contact appear on the tactical display before him, and his practised eye told him that the object had emerged from super luminal travel directly into the area.

  ‘Tactical alert!’ he yelled. ‘Helm, defensive manoeuvres, shields to maximum and contact Atlantia!’

  The lights on Arcadia’s bridge dimmed immediately and a distant siren echoed through the ship as the tactical alert was sounded. Arcadia’s command crew rushed to their stations as Mikhain stepped forward and examine the data scrolling down the tactical display before him.

  ‘Hull mass eight hundred thousand tonnes!’ Lieutenant Scott reported. ‘I’m detecting shields and massive plasma armament and she’s manoeuvring into an attack position.’

  ‘Get her on–screen!’ Mikhain ordered.

  The image on the main display screen of Arcadia’s bridge switched from Endeavour to the new arrival, and Mikhain stared in amazement as the huge spacecraft hove into view, its hull illuminated in a dull red glow from the massive hydrogen clouds spread across the star fields behind it.

  ‘Identification friend or foe?’

  The communications officer scanned the screen and called back. ‘None detected, but the type is clear – she’s a Morla’syn destroyer!’

  The vessel was massive, a three–hulled battleship shaped in the form of a Trident, the central spike the main hull with two enormous ion engine strakes completing her form. Her stern was tapered, her bow slender and long like a giant blade, and virtually every spare cubit of her surface bristled with massive cannon emplacements. Mikhain’s mouth felt dry as he looked at her, one of the few times he had ever encountered a Morla’syn vessel.

  ‘Contact her! Send an open signal on all frequencies!’

  Mikhain’s eyes were drawn to the data scrolling down the tactical display. He could see that the destroyer was already moving into an elevated position above Arcadia, Atlantia and Endeavour although she had not yet deployed a fighter screen.

  ‘Hold the Raython’s back,’ Mikhain called to Lieutenant Scott. ‘Let’s not get their backs up before we’ve even spoken to them.’

  ‘Aye, captain.’

  A screen illuminated on the bridge and filled with an image of Idris Sansin’s face as he opened a channel to Arcadia.

  ‘Where the hell did they come from?’

  Mikhain shook his head. ‘I guess it’s not just us who’s been tracking gravitational waves.’

  The massive destroyer slowed as it took position over the three vessels below it, each of its hull strakes alone larger than the two frigates it now loomed over. Mikhain watched in earnest as he waited for any reply to their signal, uncertain of how the species would react to encountering human vessels after the apocalypse.

  The Morla’syn were in Mikhain’s opinion one of the most misunderstood of species in the known galaxy. Humanoid in appearance but far taller than humans, they were native to a world that didn’t even have a name as it was considered unpronounceable in any known dialect. Referred to instead by a number from the National Galactic Catalogue, the world was in orbit around a blue star and of a lesser mass than Ethera. A high oxygen content in the atmosphere combined with the low gravity allowed the evolution of massive species, of which the Morla’syn had emerged as the most intelligent. Thousands
of years more advanced than humanity, they had become a dominant force long before human beings had even forged their first spears over fires in caves.

  ‘Any reply to our signal?’

  ‘Negative captain,’ Shah replied, the communications officer scanning her instruments intently.

  ‘They’re not sure about us,’ Idris said.

  ‘Can’t blame them,’ Mikhain replied. ‘I haven’t laid eyes on one of those ships since before the apocalypse happened. Who knows what they think of us or what they’ll do next?’

  ‘Hold position,’ Idris advised. ‘If we don’t provoke them it might give them a hope that we’re not infected.’

  ‘They’re scanning us,’ Shah said.

  ‘They might decide to blow us to pieces,’ Mikhain pointed out.

  ‘Well we can’t go anywhere until our people are off Endeavour.’

  Mikhain said nothing as he watched and waited for some sign of contact from the Morla’syn. A deep silence enveloped the bridge, every member of the crew fully aware that the destroyer was capable of blowing both frigates to pieces with a single salvo. The species had a reputation for being aloof and their involvement in galactic politics had traditionally been minimal, the Morla’syn preferring to stay away from the core systems.

  ‘They shouldn’t be out here either,’ Idris pointed out. ‘The Icari Line applies as much to them as it does to us.’

  ‘Makes you wonder what the Icari have been up to while all of this is been going on?’ Mikhain said in reply. ‘They always threatened severe consequences for any vessels found crossing the line, but I don’t recall them ever saying what those consequences would be.’

  ‘I don’t want to find out,’ Idris admitted. ‘But they’re not here now and we need to find out what the Morla’syn want from us. I don’t want them blowing us away before we’ve even had a chance to speak.’

  As if on cue, Shah called out: ‘They’re signalling us captain.’

  Mikhain straightened his uniform and positioned himself directly in front of the display screen as he nodded at Shah to continue. The communications officer switched the frequency over and instantly an image of a Morla’syn captain appeared on the screen.