“Already on it.”
On her overlays, Kira watched as lines flashed between the Wallfish and the incoming blobs: laser blasts, highlighted by the computer to make them visible to human eyes.
She bit her lip. It was horrible not being able to help. If only she had a ship of her own. Better yet if she were close enough to tear apart the approaching enemies with the Soft Blade.
Then the interior lights flickered and Morven said, “Security breach in progress. Firewall compromised. Shutting down nonessential systems. Please turn off all personal electronic devices until notified otherwise.”
“They can hack our systems now?” cried Nielsen.
Jorrus and Veera said, “Give us—”
“—root access, we—”
“—can provide assistance.”
Falconi hesitated, and then nodded. “Password sent to your consoles.” The Entropists hunched over the displays built into their chairs.
Ruddy flashes appeared within the smoke surrounding the Battered Hierophant—missiles being fired.
Alarms blared. Morven said, “Warning, incoming objects. Collision imminent.”
The missiles shot out of the smoke and quickly overtook the approaching blobs, some hurtling toward the Knot of Minds and the rest, all four of them, racing toward the Wallfish.
A fresh charge of foil chaff launched from the rear of the Wallfish. The ship was still decelerating, but the missiles rushing toward them were accelerating even faster and the distance between them dwindled with horrifying quickness.
The Wallfish’s laser stabbed out. A missile exploded (sharp blast, there and gone). Then another, closer this time. Two left.
“Sparrow,” said Falconi from between his teeth.
“I see it.”
One ship of the Knot of Minds shot down the third missile. The fourth one kept coming, though, evading the incoming laser blasts with brutally fast jerks up, down, and sideways.
A sheen of sweat coated Sparrow’s unblinking face as she concentrated fire on the incoming projectile.
Morven: “Caution, brace for impact.”
At the last moment, when the missile was nearly upon them, the Wallfish’s blaster finally connected and the missile exploded only a few hundred meters away from their hull.
Sparrow uttered a triumphant shout.
The ship rattled and shook, and the bulkheads groaned. More alarms shrieked, and smoke poured out of an overhead vent. Half the lights on the control panels went dark. A strange burst of noise sounded from the speakers: not static—transmitted data?
“Damage report,” said Falconi.
In the display, and in Kira’s overlays, a diagram of the Wallfish appeared. A large section of the hab-ring, as well as the cargo holds below, were flashing crimson. Hwa-jung stared like a person possessed while her lips moved with murmured queries to the computer.
She said, “Decks C and D are breached. Cargo hold A. Massive damage to the electrical system. Main laser is offline. Reclamation unit, hydroponics bay … everything’s been affected. Engine working at twenty-eight percent efficiency. Emergency protocols in effect.” The machine boss gestured and brought up the feed from an outside camera: along the curved hull of the Wallfish’s hab-ring, a large hole cratered inward to reveal internal walls and rooms dark but for an occasional flash of electrical discharge.
Falconi made a fist and thumped the arm of his chair. Kira winced. She knew how much the ship meant to him.
“Thule,” said Nielsen.
“Itari?” Falconi barked. An image popped up in the holo showing the Jelly climbing up the center of the ship. The alien appeared unharmed. “What about Morven?” He craned his neck toward the Entropists.
Their eyes were half-closed and glowing with the reflected light of their implants. Veera said, “Firewall restored, but—”
“—some sort of malicious program is still in the—”
“—mainframe. We’ve confined it to the waste management subroutines while we try to purge it.” Veera made a face. “It’s very…”
“Very resistant,” said Jorrus.
“Yes,” said Veera. “It is probably best to avoid using the head for now.”
Again the pseudo-intelligence announced: “Warning, incoming objects. Collision imminent.”
“Fuck!”
This time it was the Jelly boarding vessels. One was headed straight for the Wallfish, the others for the Knot of Minds.
“Can we evade?” Falconi asked.
Hwa-jung shook her head. “No. Not possible with thrusters. Aish.”
“Howitzer?” Falconi asked, turning on Sparrow.
She grimaced. “We can try, but there’s a good chance we’ll lose it to their countermeasures.”
Falconi scowled and swore under his breath. In the holo, Tschetter briefly reappeared and said, “Save the nuke for the Battered Hierophant. We’re going to try to get you past their point defenses.”
“Roger that.… Morven, drop thrust to one g.”
“Affirmative, Captain. Dropping thrust to one g.” The corresponding alert sounded, and Kira breathed a slight sigh of relief as the weight pressing on her returned to normal. Then Falconi slapped the console and stood. “All hands on deck. We’re about to be boarded.”
3.
“Shit,” said Nielsen.
“Looks like they’re heading for the breach in the cargo hold,” said Sparrow.
A knocking sounded on the pressure door to the storm shelter. Vishal opened it, and Itari’s tentacled shape pushed forward, filling the frame. [[Itari here: What is the situation?]]
[[Kira here: Wait. I do not know.]]
“Six minutes to contact,” said Hwa-jung.
Falconi tapped the grip of his blaster. “Pressure doors are sealed around the damaged areas. The Jellies will have to cut their way through. That buys us a little time. Once they’re in the main shaft, we’ll ambush them from above. Kira, you’ll have to take point. If you can kill at least two of them, we can probably handle the rest.”
She nodded. Time to test words with action.
Falconi started for the door. “Out of the way!” he said, waving at Itari. The Jelly understood well enough to move back, clearing the opening.
[[Kira here: We are being boarded by Wranaui from the Battered Hierophant.]]
Nearscent of understanding, colored with some … eagerness. [[Itari here: I understand. I will do my best to protect your co-forms, Idealis.]]
[[Kira here: Thank you.]]
Falconi said, “Let’s go! Let’s go! Kira, Nielsen, Doc, go grab weapons for everyone. Sparrow, you’re with me. Move!”
Along with Vishal, Kira trotted after Nielsen through the darkened corridors to the Wallfish’s small armory. The air in the ship was hot and smelled like burnt plastic.
At the closet-sized room, they scooped up blasters and firearms both. Kira nearly didn’t bother picking one for herself; if she was going to fight, the Soft Blade would be her best weapon. (It seemed more appropriate to think of the xeno as the Soft Blade when heading into battle, although the prospect of again committing violence with the Seed felt profoundly wrong.) Nevertheless, Kira knew it would be overconfident of her not to have another option, so she grabbed a blaster and slung it over her shoulder.
Despite the saw-toothed buzz of fear riding on her nerves, she felt relief. The waiting was over. Now, the only thing she had to focus on was survival—hers and the crew’s. Everything else was irrelevant.
Life became so much simpler when you were faced with a physical threat. The danger was … clarifying.