Yorik-Stronha Spy Ship Zhaetor-zhae
Calabrex Orbit, Antei System, Metal Green Sector
Day 320, 30 ABY
The stench that invaded the Nachzerer as its ramp slammed down into the rotting surface of the Vong ship reminded Macron of something that came out a bantha’s rear end. Back on the Final Way, from a distance the alien ship had resembled a normal asteroid, but up close it was now possible to make out the viny, organic surface, made up of individual beds of greens and browns, laced with thick, aubergine-coloured veins that still pulsed, albeit now only faintly.
‘We have to go out in that?’ Conad’s voice erupted in Macron’s ears.
‘Conad!’ Jade yelled, jerking at the sound of her own voice. She paused a moment to collect herself again. ‘The environment suits amplify our voices . . . remember?’
The Journeyman didn’t reply.
‘Okay, we do a quick sweep,’ Macron said. ‘In and out in thirty, all understood?’
A static crackle of affirmations sounded from the members of the Expeditionary Unit.
‘And no funny business,’ he added. ‘I’m not hauling anyone’s ass back in a body bag.’
Without waiting for their responses, in the low gravity Macron hopped down the ramp onto the mushy surface of the dying Vong ship. He could feel the rocky yorik coral beneath the layers of decayed tissue on top, but even the coral felt brittle and broke apart under his boots. It reminded him of what Violator Gas had done to the worldship they’d destroyed two years before . . .
In the distance, something impacted on the surface.
A few seconds later, the shockwave ripped through the ground. It would have thrown him to his feet had his bodysuit’s inbuilt claws not automatically latched onto the ground—the same could not be said for Zaroth and Conad, both of whom had fallen over.
‘Might want to revise that estimate, Mac,’ Zaroth grunted. ‘This hunk doesn’t feel like it’s long for this world.’
‘Copy that,’ Macron agreed. ‘Let’s make it ten.’ He surveyed the wilting plants across the surface—all dead. ‘Doesn’t look like there’s much left anyway.’
He noticed a nearby cavern near where the Nachzerer had set down. A flap of withered skin hung over the cave entrance, still swaying from the earthquake. His memory flashed back again to the Vong worldship and the sphincters they used instead of doors.
‘I think we found ourselves an entrance.’
The team followed Macron. His suit’s lamp came on automatically to illuminate the tunnel. He brushed the skin aside and stepped inside.
It did not look good.
The ship’s interior was in a rapid state of decay. Two prehensile stalks hung from the ceiling immediately inside, swinging to and fro as blood trickled from the eyeballs socketed along their shafts. Brown fluid was also dripping from the roof. The organic lining that had enveloped the coral labyrinth was partially liquefied, the same as the surface outside.
Someone whistled behind him.
‘Looks like your kind of place,’ said Sai.
The alchemist ignored the remark and instead bent down and poked a finger into the slime. His gauntlet’s sensors flared to life and began analysing the molecular composition, then fed the results directly into his helmet’s heads-up-display, and projected a ghostly blue image, magnified ten thousand times, inside of his visor.
The translucent sphere was covered in spike-shaped pili and several flagellum tails.
‘Alpha Red . . .’ he muttered, however his voice was lost to a stomach retching gurgle from inside the dying ship’s bowels—the smell this time resembled a whole herd of bantha’s backsides.
‘The thing you made Violator Gas out of?’ Zaroth asked after the clamour stopped.
For once, Macron did not giggle. ‘Yes . . .’ Violator Gas was the pathogen strain he had engineered from the original Alpha Red virus—though, unlike Alpha Red, Violator Gas had been reconstituted to target everything. But he had given it a very short lifespan. However the original was already unstable enough. Too long an exposure was sure to cause it to mutate.
He glanced around the cavern, at the bleeding, putrefied walls.
For someone to release it on this large a scale . . . ?
He stood up and took few steps deeper inside, each step testing the surface with his foot first. The others followed at a more cautious distance—unlike him, their environment suits wouldn’t prove much protection should the asteroid become unstable—
Before he could finish that thought, another quake shook the cavern. Someone cried out, then something behind slammed into him and he toppled forward into the darkness. He went rocketing downhill like caught on a water slide, the decaying sludge beneath him acting as a natural lubricant. Seconds later, something punched him head on, and he cart wheeled head-over-heels, and finally his head slammed face first into the backside a rotting skull which exploded.
He felt a sharp spike of pain along the back of his neck. His earpiece beeped, indicating his suit had been punctured, but he was still able to breathe.
‘Mac! Mac! Are you okay!’
The voice still sounded right next to him but it was only the audio enhancement.
‘Eugh . . .’ He wiped the grey-green corpse-slime off his face.
He glanced at his health monitors . . . despite the breach, everything checked out fine. There was still a small pang in his neck, but whiplash was to be expected. His HUD’s sensors showed he had plunged at least fifty metres, possibly double that.
‘Which karking laser brain pushed me down the hill!?’
‘Guilty,’ said Sai, his voice crackling from static a little. ‘You able to get back up? That last impact shook something free. There’s a giant piece of rock floating off up here.’
Macron keyed a command into his wrist. Like a krayt dragon’s claws, ten five inch climbing forks shot out his boots. At least his parts were all still working.
Another spike of pain struck him from behind and a puff of smoke blew out where his earpiece was. Spoke to soon . . . kriffing puncture.
He took an experimental step, clutching the brittle yorik coral.
It held. For now.
‘Yeah,’ he called but realised his vocabulator had shorted out. He retracted his visor then yelled, ‘I think so!’
The climb back was easier than he expected. The ship’s core seemed to be in a better state than aboveground. The floor only began to grow brittle again nearer the surface. At the top, Sai and Zaroth hauled him up the last few steps. Losing his footing, he stumbled forward in the low gravity from the added pull—
All of a sudden he went blind from a bright orange blur, and heard Sai swear as the light flashed across his face, slashing perpendicular to his back, as he ducked instinctively. When Macron looked up, Sai’s blood orange lightsaber was back in his hand.
‘What the frack?!’ Macron spun—his own lightsaber snap-hissing to life—and spotted a smouldering corpse of what looked like a long tail attached to a set of eight finger-like legs.
Sai shut off his saber and pulled a long face. ‘Looks like I killed your new pet.’
Macron continued to stare.
The asteroid rumbled again. ‘Time we got out of here,’ he muttered, still confused about what the creature was.
The trio hurried back to the Nachzerer as corvette-sized rocks broke off in the distance and the remains of the former crew drifted off into open vacuum as the asteroid ruptured.
Jade and Conad had already prepped ship for launch.
‘Whenever you’re ready, captain,’ Jade called over the internal comm.
‘Get us out of here.’
The Nachzerer fired its engines right as the surface began to come apart.
Macron looked at the wreckage of asteroid as it was peppered by further impacts from the Shroud’s ordinary debris. Good riddance to bad Vong.
He reached behind his head to key the release latch for his helmet, then flinched as a sharp jolt shot down his neck. It still felt raw where the hand-worm had penetrated his suit. The air from his bodysuit hissed as it depressurised before he took his helmet off. He rubbed his neck again and shrugged. He would be glad when they got to Antei and could lay into the alien freaks. This was a payback long coming.
He headed up into the cockpit to report back to the Overlord on the Final Way.
They were not going to like what he had to tell them.
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