Wrath of the Hegemons Read online

  “Hegemons,” Lucius said.

  “Looks like,” Rex replied.

  He frowned at the thought. Even though his mission was to gather information on these bastards, he wasn’t entirely thrilled about coming face-to-face with one. The Perfected Hegemony, as they called themselves, hadn’t gained a reputation for being hospitable. Until recently they had barely left their space at all, and had destroyed anybody who ventured into their territory. They had been so good at it that most people hadn’t even been sure a nation had existed beyond the far edge of the Chaos Quarter, they’d just known something brutal was out there. It was Rex’s first mission, two years earlier, that had conclusively revealed their existence to the universe.

  It hadn’t been a pleasant secret to reveal. Whispers of unknown superpowers and rumors of genetic engineering had been proven true, more so than anybody could have imagined. The Hegemony had ships comparable to those of the Commonwealth and its bitter rival, the Europan empire. They had legions of genetically engineered beasts, some to fight, others to serve, others to live in or fly through the stars with. And atop all of that sat a cast of ‘Masters,’ as they so modestly called themselves. These weren’t so much people as brains that could be moved from body to body on a whim. Hegemon Masters changed bodies the way most people changed clothes. Making things worse, they were genetic supremacists. They fetishized the organic, despised the mechanical, and believed every other human being in the universe was a backwards ‘primitive’ they could do with as they pleased. Such views hadn’t won them many friends in the universe, but they didn’t really care. They weren’t interested in friendship.

  He glanced over at Second, worried. She said nothing. She just sat at the scan station, monitoring the radar and communications. If the fact that they were closing in on her tormentors bothered her, she wasn’t showing it.

  “Maximum magnification,” Rex ordered, the computer responding instantly. His hands swiped through the air, shifting the scopes to the Hegemons’ vessel. He’d never seen one like this before. But then again, he’d only ever seen one Hegemon warship, the infamous whale-crab abomination that had chased him all the way back to the Commonwealth during his first mission. This one was smaller, maybe two-thirds the size of that earlier vessel. That made it still much bigger than his ship, the Longshot. It was more than large enough to be a threat.

  But he didn’t flee. Big as it was, the squid-looking vessel looked damaged. Or wounded? He wasn’t sure what was the best term, given it was a mostly biological spaceship grown by the Hegemons for war. But he was sure of the gaping holes he saw in its sides, as large as the ones on the metal ship. Small bits of atmosphere vented into space, loose flames escaping the bioship’s mechanical engines. Shards of frozen, orange ice floated around it.

  “They’ve crippled each other,” he said.

  “It would appear so,” said Lucius.

  “And those tentacles,” Rex said, thinking. “Wrapped around their enemy like that, almost as if the ship were designed for boarding.”

  “Designed for boarding?” Lucius said. “I’ve never seen a ship of that sort before.”

  “Neither have I,” Rex replied. “It’s like something out of Old Earth’s pirate days. People don’t board ships.”

  “Hegemons are not people.” Second’s anger was clear, her tone almost a growl.

  Rex glanced back at her. Her face was in a scowl, her eyes staring death at the viewscreen.

  “Granted,” Rex said, “it’s unusual.”

  “So, what would you have me do? Do remember, our mission is only to observe and gather information,” Lucius said.

  “Duly noted,” Rex said. “We’re gonna kill the Hegemons, of course.”

  “As you wish,” Lucius said. “But if we are too aggressive, we may end up destroying both.”

  “That’s why you’re gonna put one Rake missile in the back-end of that bioship. Take out its engines and stern,” Rex said.

  Lucius just smiled. He pulled a small visor over his eyes, where all his weapons read-outs were bright and clear, and not as translucent as ship holograms.

  “Standing by,” he said.

  “Range, Second?” Rex asked.

  “Fifteen thousand miles until effective combat distance,” she said, robotically. Ever since their blow-up two months back, she had never refused to reply to an order or request. But her words were colder than they used to be, and she said little other than what was required to obey orders. At least she spoke.

  “Turrets on auto-fire,” Rex ordered, the ship responding. “Lu, once you fire that missile, switch to the forward guns, and rip up everything you see.”

  Lucius nodded, his hands ready on the triggers of his yokes. Rex pushed the ship on, watching the miles tick away. The two interlocked ships loomed larger, both dwarfing the three-hundred-thirty-foot hull of Longshot. But right now, the size was deceiving. Both of them were damaged, and fighting for their lives. He was intact, fully armed, and had six Rake light anti-ship missiles at his command.

  Flashes of light rippled across the bioship. Its defensive rail guns fired, flinging slugs at Longshot. Rex slowed, dropping to combat speeds. Then he lurched the ship laterally through space. Shots raced past, off into the void. He pressed the acceleration pedal, leaping forward quickly, above combat speeds, to wrench Longshot around the rear of the big ship. He slowed again, the bow angling in on the Hegemon warship’s engines.

  Lucius squeezed the trigger without being asked, sending two missiles straight for the enemy. Rex didn’t chide him for firing two—he was being smart. A spattering of counterfire rose from the ship, racing for the missiles. Several small, defensive tentacles lashed out from the surface of the bioship as well. The missiles began jinking as they went, trying to avoid incoming fire. Fire flared on the screen, one of the missiles erupting as metal slugs pounded into it.

  The other streaked past the tentacles as they traced small sweeps just above the carapace of the vessel. It slammed into the bioship, just above the engines. Fire billowed, but most of the blast was directed into the ship by the missile’s shaped charge. Then bigger explosions erupted out the back of the vessel.

  The Rake was a light anti-ship missile, designed to be carried by fighters. Normally, it would take a half dozen of them to cripple a destroyer-sized ship. But the weakened carapace of the bioship buckled under the assault, the explosion ripping into the mechanical engines. The resulting blasts left the rear of the bioship a mangled mess, with jagged, twisting chunks of metalized skin reaching out into space. The fire cleared quickly in the vacuum, then stopped altogether. The rear of the Hegemon warship was destroyed, the vessel now dead in space.

  Rex fired the ventral thrusters, angling the nose down. Lucius clamped down on the yokes, letting loose with the main guns. Longshot had eight forward guns, two fighter-sized pulse cannons, and six thirty-millimeter rail guns. Against a ship of this size, these weapons were usually of limited effectiveness, but Lucius was clever. He picked his spots, firing when they approached damaged portions of the bioship. The rain of ferric-uranium slugs and charged particles gouged out new holes, widening the wounds. Fire flared into space and died, more and more oxygen venting out of the holes with each barrage.

  “I cannot understand—please hold. Computer, translate for me,” Second said behind Rex. He only half heard it. Shots from the bioship’s defensive guns plinked off his bow, chewing up the armor. He slammed on the reversing thrusters, driving the ship backwards. The bow still pointed at the ship, but they now moved away. Lucius kept up the attack, raining shots down on the bow of the vessel, just behind where its tentacles remained wrapped around the metal warship.

  “Please repeat—you need what? They’re on board your ship?” Second said, speaking with somebody on the normal ship.

  “Pulling around the rear again, let’s hit their belly this time,” Rex said.

  He pushed Longshot back, toward the damaged engines. He kept a decent distance away, far enough that the enemy cou
nterfire missed, striking harmlessly into space. Hitting the pedal again, he brought the ship under the Hegemon vessel, angling up the nose again. Lucius cut loose. As he did, a hail of counterfire hit him. This side of the bioship was less damaged, and a dozen small slugs slammed into Longshot in as many seconds.

  “Dammit,” he seethed, hitting the reversing engines again. Lucius kept firing, chewing up the armor skin of the vessel, but unable to get rounds inside.

  “Back to the top, then,” Rex began.

  “You’re Achaean? What is ‘Achaean?’” Second said.

  The word caught his attention. Achaean? As in ancient Greece?

  “How many are on your vessel?” Second asked now. “I require information on your situation!”

  Rex shook his head, but said nothing. He turned to Lucius.

  “Ready another missile. One only,” Rex said. “Wait for my word.”

  Lucius nodded, and swiped through his weapons read-outs to engage another Rake missile. Rex brought Longshot wide of the Hegemon vessel, to avoid its defensive turrets. He scribed a semicircle in space, bringing them above the bioship again, to face its damaged dorsal hull. He lined up on the center of the vessel, then slammed on the accelerator.

  Only two streams of counterfire rose to greet him, far less than the underside of the vessel. He bore down on a gaping hole just behind center, the bioship racing closer quickly.

  “Now!”

  Lucius squeezed the trigger, and the missile shot off. Rex jerked the ship sideways in space again, bringing them clear of the hull. Their forward momentum carried them on, past the bioship and into the space beneath it. He accelerated to get clear, more point-defense rail guns opening on him. Dull thuds ran through the ship as the rounds, each as big as his main guns, hit home.

  Then, suddenly, they stopped. He brought up one of his dorsal cameras, the bioship floating above his station. Explosions billowed out of the middle of it. All its guns fell silent, no more trails of light streaking for him.

  “Don’t think they’ll be bothering us again,” Lucius said.

  Rex nodded, then turned to Second. He had only heard bits and pieces of her conversation with the ‘Achaeans’ while focused on the height of the battle. Now he could hear it all.

  “We have disabled their vessel. I do not know what more we can do. We have only four people aboard. We cannot fight a battle—”

  “Yes, we can,” Rex said.

  Second paused, staring at him, confused.

  “Tell them to send us coordinates to an airlock, away from those tentacles they’re wrapped up in. Jake and I will go aboard,” Rex said.

  Second said nothing. She didn’t even nod her understanding. She just started relaying his words.

  “Ship is mine?” Lucius said.

  “Ship is yours,” Rex confirmed. “Just don’t leave without us.”

  “Understood, Captain. I’ll let Jake know to meet you in the armory.”

  ***

  “So we don’t know these people. They call themselves ‘Achaeans,’ and we’re going into battle with the Perfected Hegemony to protect them?” asked Jake.

  “Yep,” said Rex.

  “Usually we hem and haw for a while before you decide to go all heroic,” Jake said. “I suppose this is much more efficient.”

  “Sure is,” Rex said, stepping into his SI-5 powered armor suit. The front of the suit swung around automatically, latching closed. He stood inside in only his boxers, the suit’s systems needing contact with skin to monitor his vitals. He stomped forward, moving to the largest rack in the armory. It held the guns specifically designed for the suit, and several similar-sized weapons customized for Jake. He had installed mounting rails on his arms, so he could slot the big guns in, then plug them into his own internal computers.

  Rex selected a fifty-caliber machine gun, slotting one onto his right arm. He slid a forty-millimeter grenade launcher onto the other. Jake fitted his ammo pouch onto his back, then fed the ammo belts into the weapons. Rex repeated the motion with Jake, who armed himself with a similar loadout. It was the standard weaponry for powered armor, or, in Jake’s case, seven-foot-tall cyborgs who were walking powered armor suits every minute of the day.

  “Right, let’s get on it,” Rex said. They clomped out of the armory, up the tight inner stairs, to the observation blister. It doubled as an airlock, a flexible docking tube recessing into the hull around it.

  “Retracting blister, preparing docking tube,” the computer announced.

  “Pulling her into proximity now, Captain,” said Lucius over the intercoms.

  A low beep sounded, indicating the docking was complete. Above, the door to the observation blister opened, a ladder sliding down. Rex clambered up, the small metal ladder groaning under his weight, but holding. Soon he was up, on the ship’s outer hull, surrounded by the tan, synthetic fabric of the docking tube. The gravity was weak, the ship’s gravatic generators not projecting much beyond the hull. With a slight leap, Rex broke free of it, floating straight for the round hatch of the Achaean airlock. He spread his hands, gently coming into contact with the airlock, slowing to a stop. He worked a plain, lever latch on the outside. It wrenched around slowly, a full half circle. A puff of air escaped into the docking tube, revealing the airlock chamber inside.

  Rex pulled himself in.

  “Clear,” he said.

  “Coming in,” Jake said, propelling himself through the docking tube. Soon he was at the door, pulling himself through. Between Jake’s size, and the slightly greater size of Rex’s battle suit, the airlock chamber was a tight squeeze. Jake managed to shut the outer door. Rex inched toward the inner hatch, getting around Jake’s bulk. He rapped on the door, hard enough to be heard inside.

  Long seconds passed, then the latch on the inner door turned. In opened onto a hallway, bathed in blue light. A tan-skinned man, young and bloody, greeted them. He had a rifle in hand, and was dressed in military fatigues and standard body armor. His eyes went wide at the sight of the two of them. Rex quickly opened up his visor, revealing his face to the man.

  “Hello,” he said. “You guys needed some help?”

  “You…you have much armor,” said the man in English. His accent sounded vaguely Greek.

  “We do. I know what you’re fighting,” Rex said.

  The man nodded, and waved them in. They squeezed out into a normal-sized hallway. The man, rifle in hand, stepped back and nodded his head.

  “My name is Stolos. I am a soldier,” he said, sounding more confident.

  “Rex,” he replied, then pointed at Jake. “Jake.”

  The man nodded again, and pointed down a hallway. They moved down it at a jog.

  “You hurt their ship?” Stolos managed.

  “We did. They’re dead in space,” Rex said.

  “Good. But we are hurt too,” Stolos added.

  “Maybe we can help, once we’re done here,” Rex said.

  Stolos nodded, but said nothing. The sounds of fighting grew louder, gunshots intermingled with a bass, animal roar. The roar came again and again, accompanied by the slam of heavy feet on metal.

  Stolos paused near a turn in the corridor. He motioned them around. Rex didn’t blame him for holding back. He’d seen Hegemon Warriors once, if only for a brief moment. What he remembered were massive, eight-foot-tall, Sasquatch-like creatures. They’d been hugely muscled, like some steroid-fueled bodybuilder. And they’d had bony plates of armor just under their skin, like what you’d see on armored dinosaurs, Ankylosaurs and the like. Yet still, the muscles had been so large they were visible despite the bony armor-plating above them, or the thick, gray, matted hair above that. He’d never faced one in battle before, but he was pretty sure they were tough bastards to kill.

  But that’s what they were here for, so he turned the corner into the adjoining corridors. A knot of Hegemon Warriors stood in front of him, slamming huge fists into a metal door. The metal was already visibly warped inwards, the hinges half broken. The lead beast re
ared back and slammed a two-handed blow into the hatch. It crumpled inwards, falling to the ground.

  A roar of gunfire erupted from within. The lead Warrior lurched back, roaring painfully. But it did not fall. Amazingly, it held its ground. The others behind pushed forward, using their wounded leader as a shield.

  “Side by side!” Rex cried, stepping to his left. Jake moved in on his right, their armored bulks taking up the whole of the corridor. They advanced. Rex fired three grenades into the mass, fire and smoke filling his vision as they exploded. Anguished roars went up from the beasts.

  The smoke cleared, and the monsters remained. In fact, they were still standing. They bled, each from two dozen different cuts. Their gray hair had been singed and burned. Two had gaping wounds the size of a fist, but they stood.

  Two roared, and charged. There was no hesitation, no stopping to size up their new enemy. They just pounded toward them, clawed fingers outstretched. Saber teeth extended out from their mouths as they went, surrounded by shark-like smaller ones.

  Rex opened up with his fifty-cal, Jake doing the same. The big bullets hit home, the creatures lurching backwards under the impact. Rex kept the fire continuous, advancing slowly. Twenty rounds ripped into his target before it finally pitched backwards, its chest a gory mess.

  “Aim for the head!” Rex shouted over his radio. Jake’s gun pitched up, putting a dozen rounds into the remaining beast’s skull. The first half dozen hit home, and the beast kept coming. It had lost an eye and a huge chunk of its jaw, but it trudged on, ten feet from Jake. The next six rounds hit hard, shredding whatever it had for brains. The Warrior collapsed, its head half blasted from its thick, bull neck.

  Rex and Jake charged on, stomping the Warriors underfoot to make sure they were dead. Gunfire and screams echoed from the room the Warriors had broken into. Rex dashed in, finding himself in some sort of mess hall.

  A dozen men were scattered through the room, hiding behind the tables, and the distant service counter. The two Warriors were still alive and on their feet. One had a man in its jaws. Its saber teeth extended from inside its skull, and it chomped down. A spray of red-pink gore went up. The beast ripped free, taking the top two-thirds of the dead man’s skull with it. It hurled the body aside, and looked for another victim. A wave of rifle fire hit home, jolting the beast in place.