Berserker (Messenger Book 2) Read online

  Wyburn seethed. Betrayed by his own security chief! And neither he nor any of his loyal subordinates had seen it coming. Kuo had done a masterful job of organizing a mutiny on such a large scale without any leaks. In a twisted sense, Wyburn had to admire the man's skill at duplicity.

  Kuo continued, “In clear violation of our fleet's directive, the admiral has unilaterally and unlawfully committed this expedition to an alliance with the same terrorists who first repelled our forces from Chalice and enacted a crippling embargo upon our home world. The executive officer supports us in our actions, and has agreed to assume command of this vessel in light of the admiral's unfitness.”

  “Not Belloc,” Wyburn hissed. His mind reeled. Would his straight arrow of an X.O. really be complicit in such an underhanded takeover?

  “I call upon all loyal citizens of Thera to join me in opposing the traitor admiral,” Kuo went on. “Together, we can restore this expedition to its rightful purpose, abandon this insane alliance with terrorists, and devote all efforts to relieving our home world's resource shortage immediately. Given the dire stakes, those who oppose us will be met with lethal force. That is all.”

  The intercom went silent. Wyburn slammed his fist on the bulkhead, propelling himself backward. Several marines appeared around the corner, armed with rifles. Wyburn looked at them in alarm.

  “Don't listen to those lies,” he exclaimed. “Kuo's actions will doom both Chalice and Thera to oblivion. Cooperating with SLIC is the only way to save both the Union and her colonies.”

  “We know, Admiral,” the sergeant in command of the marine team replied. “We're here to protect you, sir. Just give us your orders.”

  “I'll remember your loyalty, marines,” Wyburn said with relief. “What's your name, Sergeant?”

  “Sturm, sir.”

  “All right, Sturm. Give me a situation report.”

  “The traitors in the security detail are swarming all over engineering in an attempt to kill you, sir,” Sturm said. “We're engaged in a firefight to put them down.”

  “What about the rest of the ship?” Wyburn demanded.

  “The mutineers have control of the bridge. The rest of the ship is status unknown. They struck like lightning. We were caught with our pants down,” Sturm said with chagrin.

  “Do you know how many in the security detail have gone over to Kuo's side?”

  “Wish I could tell you, sir. It's total chaos everywhere. Seems like about fifty-fifty to me, but I could be way off.”

  Wyburn could see that it would take bold action to avert catastrophe. Without further hesitation, be began to take the initiative.

  “First thing we need to do is secure engineering,” he said. “Then we'll round up as many loyalists as we can find and hit the nearest armory for more weapons. Once we're ready, we'll storm the bridge and retake control of the ship.”

  “Music to my ears, sir,” Sturm replied. “But keep your head down, Admiral. Those traitors are looking to put some holes in it.”

  Wyburn got out his pocket computer and opened a wireless connection to the maintenance drone control system, using his authority to grant himself maximum access. As he followed the marine team toward an engineering compartment with a firefight in progress, he took control of a drone equipped with a high power plasma torch. He held out his pocket computer so the sergeant could see the video feed.

  “Which team is on our side?”

  “Menendez's squad.” Sturm pointed. “That side.”

  “Got it.”

  Sparks flashed and blood globules floated past the video feed as Wyburn guided the repair bot around the edge of the compartment, behind the team of mutineers. He directed the drone to burst out of hiding and cut the nearest mutineer in half with its plasma torch just as Sturm's team flew around the corner with their guns blazing. The staccato of rifle fire thundering in the cramped chamber was deafening. With the sneak attack by the drone combined with the sudden appearance of reinforcements, the mutinous squad was quickly cut down.

  “That's one compartment,” Wyburn exclaimed over the ringing in his ears. “Let's keep it up, marines.”

  “Yes sir, Admiral!” came the ardent reply.

  The loyalist security personnel continued clearing out engineering compartment by compartment. Their organization improved as they gathered around Wyburn, and he continued aiding them by taking control of maintenance bots and using them as weapons. Soon, they had the engineering section back under control, at the cost of floating corpses choking the passageways and damage to countless minor subsystems.

  “Onward, marines,” Wyburn shouted. “We'll make for the nearest armory and pick up any allies we find along the way.”

  With security in tatters and the functionality of various systems in doubt, they ignored the elevators and instead made for the emergency ladders. They climbed halfway down the rotating habitation ring, where there was light gravity, and headed for the armory. The two marines in the lead found a pair of small security drones in their way and fell to the drones' lasers. A volley of grenades sailed over their falling bodies and dropped on the compromised drones, disabling them. An alarm blared and the fire extinguishing system activated, drenching the passageway in fire retardant chemicals.

  Inside the armory, the marines found combat vests for those not already wearing them, more guns, grenades, and copious amounts of ammunition. Wyburn also used his authorization to open a locker in the corner of the armory that contained rare and expensive armaments reserved exclusively for Spacy's senior officers: a resonance sword and a personal deflector shield. He took off his zero g maneuver pack, equipped his new weapons, and felt a thrill of excitement as they came alive with hums of energy. It had been a long time since he had wielded these weapons, but he had once been an expert in their use. He hoped that he hadn't lost his edge.

  “Good work, men,” he said. “To the bridge.”

  The marines returned to the emergency elevator and climbed down to the outer deck of the habitation ring, where the gravity was one g. Another pair of hijacked security drones intercepted them en route to the bridge. As before, the narrow confines of the passageway led to the loss of several marines to the drones' lasers; but by the same token, the drones could do nothing to evade the return volley of grenades. Once the extinguishing system put out the ensuing fire, the marines pressed on, blasted their way through another team of mutineers, and arrived at the hatch that provided access to the bridge.

  Several marines gathered around the hatch to storm the bridge. Sergeant Sturm tried the hatch and found it locked. Wyburn pulled out his pocket computer and tried to get a video feed from the bridge's security cameras. It tried to lock him out, but he was able to input an emergency override using his flag officer's privileges. The bridge flickered into view, showing a dozen mutineers holding the bridge crew hostage. Major Kuo and Commander Belloc stood in the center of the bridge. Belloc was the only member of the bridge crew who didn't have a gun trained on her.

  “We'll have to take them out,” Wyburn said. “While keeping the hostages alive, if at all possible.”

  Aided by full knowledge of the enemy's positions, the marines quickly planned their assault. Once they were all in position, the demolitionist planted an explosive charge on the hatch. He got the nod from Wyburn and detonated it.

  The marines rushed through the destroyed hatch and poured onto the bridge, weapons blazing. Wyburn ran in just behind the first team with his left arm, on which he had equipped his personal deflector shield, raised in front of him.

  It was ten seconds of pandemonium—ten seconds that felt like a lifetime. Bullets whistled everywhere; sparks flew from the bulkheads and instrument panels; people went down with splatters of blood; the roar of gunfire and screams of agony threatened to deafen everyone on the bridge. Bullets whistled all around Wyburn as his deflector shield sent them veering off course, and he struck out with his shimmering resonance blade, cutting down one of the mutineers who was foolish enough to rush at him. />
  When it was all over, the deck was littered with bodies. Miraculously, none of the hostages had been killed, although a couple of them had been injured by stray fire. Belloc was unscathed, having hit the deck as soon as the shooting had started. A single mutineer remained standing at the front of the bridge, hiding behind Ensign Ferrari and holding a gun to her head. The ensign's knees were shaking and her hazel green eyes were wide with terror.

  “No one move, or she's dead,” the mutineer stammered in a trembling voice. “Get me an escape pod, and I'll release her.”

  “You scum,” Sturm snarled. “And you call yourself a marine?” He took a step forward.

  “Stay back,” the mutineer shrieked. “I'll really shoot her, so help me Thera I will.”

  “P—please,” Ferrari begged. “Please don't kill me.”

  “I'll only say this once.” Wyburn's voice dripped with uncharacteristic venom. “Let my subordinate go.”

  “Don't pretend like you care about your crew, you miserable traitor!”

  The mutineer took his gun off Ferrari's temple and started to point it at Wyburn. Wyburn pressed the switch to extend the blade of his resonance sword and lashed out with extreme precision. The rippling column of air skimmed the mutineer's head, opening his skull in a fountain of blood. His gun went off, the bullet whistled by Wyburn's ear and ricocheted off the bulkhead behind him, and the mutineer's corpse collapsed to the deck. Ferrari staggered and dropped to her knees, sobbing.

  While the marines' attention was focused on the front of the bridge, one of the mutineers stirred. Major Kuo, who had only been playing dead, rose slowly to his feet and aimed his pistol at the back of Wyburn's head.

  Ferrari looked up and screamed. The marines followed her gaze and started swinging their weapons toward Kuo. Wyburn turned to look behind him. Kuo's finger tightened on the trigger.

  One last gunshot rang out.

  Kuo's body dropped, a bullet hole in the back of his head. His falling body revealed the stocky form of Commander Belloc, a puff of smoke dissipating from the muzzle of her sidearm.

  Ferrari flung herself at Wyburn and buried her face in his chest, her body racked with sobs. Wyburn looked down at her in bewilderment, then met Belloc's stolid gaze.

  “I pretended to go along with Major Kuo so that I would be in a position to do something like that.” Belloc spun her pistol so that she was holding the handle forward and presented it to Wyburn. “I'm sorry. I'll understand if you choose to have me court-martialed, Admiral.”

  Wyburn favored her with a smile. “Keep your weapon, Commander. You did just fine. In fact,” he swept his gaze around the bridge and met the eyes of all his crew and marines, “you have all proven yourselves to be officers and men of the finest caliber. Your loyalty was put to the ultimate test, and it was not found wanting. I'll see that you all get medals for this.” He paused and asked, “Who is the highest ranking of the remaining marines?”

  A lieutenant came forward. “That would be me, sir.”

  “You're my new chief of security,” Wyburn said. “Congratulations on your double promotion, Major.”

  The new major snapped to attention and saluted. “Thank you, Admiral.”

  Wyburn then turned to the ensign sobbing into his chest. While he was not such a straight arrow that he was entirely opposed to having a cute young ensign in his arms, this was not the time for illicit fraternization. He gave Ferrari a gentle push and held her at arm's length.

  “It's over. You're safe now,” he said. “Pull yourself together, Ensign.”

  Ferrari sniffed, “Y—yes, sir.”

  Wyburn turned to his new chief of security. “Major, take your men and secure the rest of the ship. There could still be more mutineers lurking about. I want a clean sweep of this ship, top to bottom. Don't let so much as a cockroach escape your notice. And take these injured officers with you. See that they receive immediate medical attention.”

  “Yes sir,” the major barked. He gestured to the marines. “Let's go, men.”

  As the marines filed off the bridge, taking the injured crewmen with them, Wyburn turned his attention back to the matter at hand.

  “We won't be getting anything done here now,” he said, looking at the walls of wrecked instruments and panels filled with bullet holes. “Let's move to the auxiliary bridge.”

  *

  The bridge crew transferred to the auxiliary bridge and took their stations. The lights came on and the bridge hummed to life. Wyburn took his seat in the captain's chair, and Belloc took her place standing at his side.

  “Helm,” he called, “did you manage to correct our course to get us over the target zone before Kuo's mutiny attempt?”

  “Sorry, skipper,” the helmsman replied. “We turned too wide, and we just missed the target zone about ten minutes ago. It's still 80 minutes until we can make another pass.”

  “We'll just have to turn around, then,” Wyburn replied.

  The helmsman frowned in puzzlement. “But the vector rockets still aren't responding. We can't make a tight enough turn with just the verniers.”

  “We're not going to use the vector rockets,” Wyburn said. “Or the verniers.”

  The bridge crew stared blankly at him.

  “Launch the Metal Head,” Wyburn ordered.

  While the operators carried out his command, Belloc asked, “Sir? What do you have in mind?”

  “The thrusters on the heads still work,” Wyburn said. “We're going to use them to steer.”

  “Use them to...” Belloc's eyes widened in disbelief. “You're going to ram the Hydra with the Metal Head?” she exclaimed.

  “Brilliant plan, isn't it?” Wyburn said. “Sometimes I amaze even myself.”

  “That's going to be touchy,” Belloc said. “If we get it wrong, we could destroy the ship.”

  “I have faith in my crew,” Wyburn replied.

  Wyburn gave his orders. He could see the trepidation in the eyes of his crew, but they carried out his commands. After detaching the Metal Head, they issued it remote directives that brought it on a collision course with the Hydra, trying to match the relative velocities so that the two craft would not sustain major damage when they came into contact. Wyburn watched the Metal Head's signal drawing closer to the Hydra... closer... closer...

  The ship rumbled and he lurched in his seat as the Metal Head collided with the Hydra's bow.

  “Now,” he shouted. “Have the Metal Head turn hard to port!”

  A hideous metallic shriek rang through the Hydra as the Metal Head turned. Wyburn ignored the blaring collision alerts and watched the Hydra's course performing a tight u turn on his holographic display.

  “Have the Metal Head break off,” he commanded.

  “Aye aye, skipper.”

  The Metal Head parted ways from its mothership. Wyburn heard Belloc exhale a long breath.

  “That was a little hair raising,” she said.

  “We're still slightly off course,” Ferrari reported.

  “But we're close enough to correct it with the verniers now,” the helmsman said.

  “The target zone will be visible shortly,” Ferrari announced.

  A few minutes later, a visual feed of the target zone appeared in the main viewscreen. A vast swath of savanna was awash in fire and smoke. Wreckage of countless battle drones and other war vehicles littered the landscape. SLIC and Spacy aircraft were performing bombing and strafing runs on wave after wave of enemies. Even as they watched, the Skyfish, positioned just off the eastern coast, fired a volley of rockets.

  “The coalition force is completely surrounded,” Ferrari reported. “Judging from the size of their force, they appear to have suffered heavy casualties. It's hard to see through all the smoke, but using multi-spectrum image correction, I've located four signal flares spread throughout the enemy forces.” She tapped at her instrument panel, and several markers appeared over the image, highlighting the locations of the signal flares.

  “I think it's a damn good t
hing you turned us around, Admiral,” Belloc remarked.

  “Looks like our allies on the ground need our help,” Wyburn said. “Arm the main batteries with thermobaric warheads and get me a firing solution.”

  “Working on it,” fire control answered. A pause, and then, “Firing solution acquired.”

  Wyburn glanced at Belloc. “With your permission, X.O.?”

  Belloc sighed. “You know what happened last time. But it's not like I can stop you, sir.”

  “No one can, Commander.” Wyburn shot out of his chair, swept his arm out, and bellowed, “Fire!”

  Thirtieth Escalation

  Without a word it turns

  Cena fell back to join up with the rest of the Viper exosuit squadron at the last line of defense. As she raked her rifle through the lines of oncoming enemies swarming through the tall grass, the trigger clicked and froze. Out of ammo. She dropped her rifle and readied her Rusalka's heavy whips.

  “Well guys, looks like this is where we check out,” she transmitted. “You were a good C.O., Tinubu. I'm sorry it had to end this way.”

  “Why?” Tinubu cried. “Why would Spacy betray us? This gains them nothing!”

  “That's what we get for teaming up with those snakes,” Cena said. “Serves us right for being so dumb, I guess.”

  Something flashed near the top of Cena's viewscreen. An instant later, several columns of light flared in the distance, followed immediately by a series of enormous explosions that engulfed the Xenolist lines, spewing smoke, earth, and fire hundreds of meters into the air. A second later, a deafening peal thundered across the savanna, and Cena's exosuit nearly toppled over from the shock wave. She could barely see anything through all the smoke, but her suit's image compensation revealed several enormous craters where the enemy forces used to be.