Dryker's Folly: Book 1 in Void Wraith Origins Read online

  “Captain?” Naomi asked. “I think the integration is complete. The system is offering up command-level control of this ship. It seems to have been missing a critical element, something it calls a virtual intelligence. I guess I qualify, enough that it can work with me anyway.”

  “Well, that’s not terrifying or anything. Here’s a free ship, just plug in your own AI…that we’re going to change in subtle ways.” Dryker exhaled slowly. “Why don’t we start with sensors? Can you show me what’s going on outside?”

  “Of course, Captain.”

  A hologram sprang into view over one of the unoccupied stations. It showed a bird’s-eye view of the area outside the ship, and Dryker moved closer to inspect it. His heart sank. “Crap.”

  One of the cats slung an unconscious Sheng over his shoulder. The hologram brought it to life in a way the other footage he’d seen had failed to capture. These things looked just like lions, right down to the mane for the males. That couldn’t be a coincidence, and it raised some troubling questions. Questions he could deal with once he found a way to save Sheng.

  He followed their progress as a small group of alien warriors followed the robed cat back inside their vessel, while the rest of the cats moved back to the sapphire.

  Dryker gave a grim smile. Their single-minded greed might be exactly what he needed to even the odds. “Naomi, can you explain the purpose of the sapphires the cats are so focused on?”

  “They control propulsion for the ship by emitting a stable energy field.”

  “So it is an engine. And what might happen to the unfortunate cat who was foolish enough to stand near one when it fired?” He bent to inspect the holographic representation of the cats gathered around the ship’s engines.

  “While this species appears to be more durable than your own they would not survive even a short blast.”

  “Then we’ve got a plan.” Dryker gave a self-five, what people who hadn’t spent twenty-three months alone in space might have called clapping, but for him was the only way of congratulating himself. “Can you bring the engines online long enough to cook our friends?”

  There was no answer for several moments, then Naomi’s forlorn voice broke over the ship’s speakers, instead of his suit’s. “I am afraid not. This ship appears to have suffered damage to the power distribution system. Power is being generated, but it is not reaching the engines.”

  “Well, shit.” Dryker leaned against the wall and wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist. He’d kill for a beer right about now. “Good thing we didn’t sign up for easy. Lead me to the damaged section of the ship.”

  12

  Rhodium

  Dryker knew when he chose this life that he’d have to be completely self-sufficient, and have to solve seemingly unsolvable problems. The first lesson you learned this close to the black was that if you didn’t have an answer, all it meant was you needed more data.

  “Naomi, can you guide me to the problem area?” Dryker began removing the heavier pieces of his EVA suit. It would only slow him down.

  “Of course, Captain. If you follow the corridor to the right, it will come to a T-intersection.” Lights began illuminating in the corridor she’d indicated. “Turn right at the intersection, and scan the wall on the left-hand side. The problem should be visible.”

  Dryker hurried up the corridor, dropping his gauntlets as he walked. About a dozen feet past the intersection he found the problem. Something had melted through a large section of the wall, which exposed the ship’s inner workings.

  He gave a low whistle. “Looks like someone got into a hell of a fight here. This happened locally, not in a space battle.”

  A trio of azure beams flowed through the wall, the naked energy crackling and pulsing as it let off enough heat to cook unprotected skin. Two beams continued unbroken until they disappeared from view, but the lowest beam was being blocked by a warped piece of the hull. The energy dispersed in a blue-white cloud, which had melted a neighboring panel into shapeless slag.

  “Naomi, what am I looking at?” He circled to the far wall, but didn’t try to get any closer. He liked his pasty-white skin, and wasn’t eager to tan. Not like that anyway.

  “The beams are superheated plasma conduits, which appear to carry power to the engines.” She paused for a moment. “The engine is partially powered, and if we could restore this flow, full power might be available.”

  Dryker took a step closer and immediately regretted it as he entered an overpowering wall of heat. His chest tightened, and he resisted the urge to retreat. “You said you can’t identify the metal, right? What are the odds we can cut through it?” He wasn’t even sure what he would use as a torch.

  “Very low,” she confirmed. “I do not see an obvious solution.”

  “Well, it starts with suiting back up.” Dryker retreated from the damaged wall, and began plucking EVA pieces from the floor as he walked back to the bridge. He took a few moments to suit up, and considered the problem. “How long will my suit survive in close proximity to those plasma conduits?”

  “About twenty seconds, though I would advise you to make it shorter to be on the safe side.”

  His gauntlet caught on a cargo net, and knocked it loose. It clattered to the deck, and he looked down to see the silvery nugget of rhodium at his feet. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. I might actually have to become religious after this.”

  “You have some new data, Captain?” Naomi did a fair imitation of curious. Certainly a better imitation than she’d have managed a few hours ago.

  “Possibly.” He knelt and picked up the hunk of rhodium. “Naomi, can you calculate what angle the plasma flow would need to be redirected in to return power to the engines?”

  “I can, but you would need a reflective surface capable of withstanding intense corrosion.”

  He picked up the shotgun in his free hand. “We’re about to find out if I can make one.” Dryker hurried back to the damaged conduit. He could still feel the heat through his suit, but it was much more tolerable. Speed mattered, so he hurried closer and gritted his teeth against the intense burn. The suit made it tolerable, at least.

  “How hot is that beam?” He tossed the hunk of rhodium onto the bent piece of metal where the plasma had been redirected. He extended the barrel of his shotgun, and tilted the flat side of the ore toward the beam.

  “The beam is approximately fifteen hundred degrees Celsius,” Naomi explained.

  “This just might work.” He grunted as he pushed the rhodium closer. “Rhodium’s got a melting point of something like 2,000 degrees. It might hold up.” The barrel of his rifle began to glow an angry red. “Unfortunately, steel has a much lower melting point. I doubt I’m going to be shooting any cats, even if this works.”

  He quickly maneuvered the rhodium into the path of the beam, and the energy instantly refracted off its shiny surface to another part of the wall. He held his breath, but after three tense seconds there was no sign of corrosion on his makeshift mirror.

  The rifle, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. The last six inches melted to slag, which ran down the wall. The glove holding the rifle began to smolder, and he could feel the heat on his palm. “I need that angle, Naomi. Fast. How far off are we?”

  “If you nudge the fragment to the right by approximately twenty-two degrees, that should cause the flow to resume.”

  Dryker took a slow, steady breath. He ignored the heat pressing him back, and leaned in even further with the rifle. He used the superheated end to nudge the rhodium. Had this been a holovid, the move probably would have failed, and they’d have cut to an ad. Sometimes you just got lucky though.

  The rhodium twisted a few centimeters, and the beam’s angle shifted it into alignment with the other two. A deep hum began from somewhere under his feet.

  “Captain, it appears to have worked. We have limited power, but it should be enough to fire the engines at the very least.”

  “Well, all right then.” He gave a grin as he shuffled back from the exposed plasma. “Let’s see about cooking some cats.” He turned and broke into a trot in an effort to get away from the lingering heat. It faded quickly, and he gave a relieved sigh.

  Dryker didn’t remove the suit until he’d reached the bridge, by which time Naomi had set up a hologram showing the cats clustered around the engine. There were eight of them now, and several held some sort of power tool.

  “Are they making any headway removing the engine?” If he tried to fire it and a part was loose, it could end badly for all of them.

  “Some. Their laser torches appear to affect the ship’s alloy.”

  “Crap.” Dryker hurried over to the hologram. “Well, let’s deal with this before it gets worse. Can you determine a safe amount of power to flood the engine with?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, then fire it at 20% strength.” Dryker realized the order was reckless, but he didn’t have time to conduct a frigging study.

  The engine flared a bright sapphire, and then the entire hologram was drowned in white. When the hologram returned, it showed nothing but a dark stain on the deck near the engine.

  “Wow.” Dryker blinked at the area where his enemies had been. “This ship rocks. Did our jerry-rigged mirror hold up?”

  “I will find out.” Naomi paused. “We saw no degradation in power. I believe we could pilot the vessel away if needed. Shall I lift off?”

  “Not yet.” Dryker touched the hologram, and spun it to face the cats’ ship. “First, we need to go get Sheng. While I’m doing that I want you to figure out a way to keep our new mirror from moving once we start flying.”

  13

  Sharena

  “I cannot believe I’m doing this.” Dryker stepped through the arched doorway, leaving the safety of the alien ship. No cats were waiting, but he was positive he hadn’t gotten them all with the engines.

  The one with the robes hadn’t been there, and odds were good an important figure like that must have guards. He had no idea how many. The enemy ship could be full of them. But he couldn’t leave Sheng behind, not after he’d been the one who’d ferried her here. If not for him, she’d be back on the Johnston waiting for extraction.

  He moved fast and low toward the towering bronze ship. There was no sign of any movement, thankfully. He’d lost the shotgun, and didn’t relish the idea of going hand-to-hand with one of these things. They were taller, stronger, and had wicked-looking claws. No thanks.

  Dryker reached the base of the ship, and stared up at the damaged section. The Johnston had done her work well. The gaping wound from the gauss cannon extended deep into the cats’ ship, across multiple decks. That was probably the easiest way inside, and also the least likely area to be guarded. How did you guard a big hole that covered multiple decks?

  He grabbed the porous metal, and hauled himself up. The metal was coarse enough to provide handholds, and it didn’t take long to reach the damaged part of the hull. He pulled himself inside, then paused to listen.

  The ship was lit by a thin scarlet illumination, shed by running lights near the ceiling. It was much dimmer than a human vessel, which made sense if these aliens resembled their early counterparts. They were predators, meant to hunt in the dark.

  He heard voices in the distance, low unintelligible growls that might be words. Dryker slowed his breathing, and waited until he was calm before dropping into the hole. He landed lightly, and paused for a second or three to see if the voices changed. They continued as before, three distinct cats mewling and growling to each other.

  Dryker hesitated. In the Rangers he’d learned that you could accomplish incredible things simply through the use of overwhelming, unexpected force. Generating that force, though, required weapons he didn’t have access to. The only weapons he had remaining were a pair of grenades and the flare gun that came standard with every EVA suit.

  If he threw a grenade into that room and Sheng was there, then he’d just murdered her. If he rushed them with a flare gun, they’d kill him immediately. So, overwhelming force was out.

  He inched his way up the corridor with his body plastered against the right wall. When he was positive he could see the opening that must lead into the room the cats occupied, he dropped prone and shimmied closer. Dryker had done a full tour with the 75th, and had been well trained in CQB. Surviving close quarters battles required patience more than anything else, and he took a good thirty seconds to cross the last two meters to the door.

  Dryker peered inside, and saw four cats standing in a rough circle. The cat with the robes spoke, and the other three listened. Their bestial faces wore variations of the same deference, confirming the importance of this particular cat.

  A peculiar odor emanated from the bridge, a musk that must be coming from the cats. It was the only scent he’d detected thus far. This whole place was immaculate. Dryker inched forward another hair.

  There.

  On the ground behind the cats lay a prone, very human figure. Sheng was clearly unconscious, as he could see her chest rising and falling. She didn’t appear to have been bound, which either meant she’d been drugged, or the cats simply didn’t consider her a threat.

  He slowly retreated, finally crawling back to his feet when he was far enough away. Dryker moved quickly, but took care not to make any obvious noise as he explored the bowels of the ship. This thing had engines, which meant it must have some sort of engineering area.

  Assuming the cats were on the bridge, it stood to reason that if he did some damage to the engines, it would trigger an alert. An alert might get one or more of the cats to come investigate, which could provide the only chance he’d get to grab Sheng.

  Of course, if even one cat stayed with their captive he was screwed. He slowly drew his flare gun. The orange pistol was hardly menacing, but it was what he had. At the very least, he might be able to blind a target, and then bravely run away.

  Dryker slowed again as he entered a larger room with high ceilings. A large bronze tube dominated the room, with small windows set into each side. An angry orange glow came through each window, and he’d seen enough reactors to guess what he was looking at.

  He moved to the control panel on the far side of the room. The symbols were unfamiliar, but that was okay. Dryker just started pushing buttons. He kept after it for a bit, until the screen began flashing red and emitting a scandalized beeping. There was no siren or anything, but he hoped that whatever he’d done would be noticed on the bridge.

  He sprinted from the room, and moved up to a corridor that paralleled the one he’d taken from the bridge. If he was right, he was close enough to hear the cats if they approached from the bridge. All he had to do was wait for them to pass, and then make his move.

  Dryker settled in to wait, and slowed his breathing. Thinking of these things as Earth’s great cats might be risky, but right now it was the only model he had. It stood to reason they came equipped with similar hearing and an impressive sense of smell. His suit would mask most of his scent, he hoped, but it wasn’t going to muffle sound.

  Three pairs of heavy footsteps bounded down the corridor paralleling this one, the one he’d been in just a few minutes ago. Unlike human crew, the cats didn’t move at a walk, or even double time. They ran full tilt, as if racing each other to be the first down to engineering.

  “If this human is there,” one of the cats roared, its voice muffled through the bulkhead, “then I claim death right.”

  Wait, what? How had he understood them? Just minutes ago he’d seen the cats talk, and not gotten anything but growls and mews. He sincerely doubted they’d suddenly switched to English, so something had changed. But that only mattered if he lived.

  The cats knew he might be about, and he needed to focus on that. He needed to be quick.

  Dryker rose slowly to his feet and crept up the corridor as quickly as he dared. It met up in a T-intersection, spilling him back into the original corridor. He followed it quickly to the bridge, and his grip on the flare gun tightened with every step. Theoretically, the three guards had been stripped away, as he doubted they’d send the robed figure to investigate.

  He paused next to the doorway, and cautiously peered inside the room. The robed cat stood hunched over some sort of console. She tapped an array of keys with buttons similar to those he’d seen down in engineering. Whatever allowed him to speak their language didn’t do squat with the buttons. They were still gibberish.

  The robed cat seemed unaware of him, but he didn’t dare try to dart in and grab Sheng. He couldn’t get away before she pounced. That meant he had to deal with her, and he doubted his flare would do more than singe her fur.

  That left bluffing. He hated bluffing. Would she be able to understand him the way he could her?

  “Turn around slowly,” he ordered in his best officer’s voice. The cat tensed, but didn’t turn. “Step against that wall, or I’ll shoot you in the face. I know you’ve seen our weapons. You know what they can do, especially at close range.”

  The robed cat turned slowly. She—and he was sure now it was a she—sized him up dispassionately. She eyed his flare gun, then turned her attention to him.

  “Yes, I know what your weapons can do.” Her tail swished behind her, broadcasting her annoyance. “I also know that the rest of my claw is very much after your blood. If you finish me, you will not live to claim your mate. You will be caught, dismembered, interrogated, and only then killed. One does not attack a member of our scientist caste without repercussions, as you’ll soon see.”

  “Yeah, well, none of that is going to help you.” He jerked the barrel toward Sheng, then quickly back to the cat. “Pick her up. I’m not going to carry her. You are.”

  “Clever.” The tail-swishing stopped. The cat bent to pick up Sheng, and effortlessly cradled the unconscious woman in her arms. It took no more effort than Dryker would have used to scoop up a toddler. “And now what do you plan, furless?”