******
So far, the plan worked. The A.I. Moon’s death loop went after the decoys, giving the marine transports enough time to make it to the Sea Wolf. After the nanobot prominence touched the decoys, it looked as if was headed to the real transports, but as they got closer to the Sea Wolf, it retreated back into the moon’s atmosphere.
With marines in the landing bay, it was time to make the stellar jump that would put the ship in low orbit over the moon.
“Gentlemen,” Julius said, “if this doesn’t work, it’s been a fun voyage. Jessen, initiate jump.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Julius heard the gravity generators rev up, and the whine increased to a fever pitch, but nothing happened.
For a moment, he thought the plan failed—then he felt the familiar sensation that accompanied stellar jumps, followed by the scariest sound he had ever heard the Sea Wolf make.
It was as if a giant hand had wrapped around the ship and squeezed it into a ball of scrap metal. Panels and rivets literally flew off the walls. Mini-explosions and the sound of gas leaking from ruptures filled his ears. Despite hovering in his command module, he could actually see the bridge buckle around him.
A bright flash from somewhere on the bridge blinded him. He closed his eyes, and then the chaos stopped.
When he opened them back up, he half-expected to be sitting in a field on the Milky Way Farm. Instead, the bridge was still there—he was still there—and the blue-green cloud cover of the moon filled the main view-screen.
It had worked.
Julius looked around the bridge; no one appeared to be injured. He then looked up at the damage control display. Unfortunately, the display itself was damaged.
“Jessen, ship status?”
Jessen took a moment to respond, apparently a little rattled.
“Sorry, sir,” he said. “Jump was successful, and we are in low orbit around the moon. Damage is extensive: stellar jump system is offline, starboard reactor offline, weapons grid offline, shields offline, significant ruptures in the hull—emergency doors have sealed off compartments to prevent decompression …”
The list went on—the Sea Wolf was effectively sunk.
“Captain,” Murdock’s voice came on. “We’ve got a fuck-in-the-ass problem.”
“Add it to the list. Go ahead.”
“It’s the weapon ammo feed. The containment field in the cyclotron is failing, and the system is locked in an endless loop. I can’t shut it down.”
“What’s that mean to us, Murdock?”
“It means the hull of this ship is going to look like Swiss cheese if we can’t stop it. A shitload of accelerated protons will be firing in all directions—from the inside out.”
“And you can’t stop it?” Julius asked.
Murdock took a moment to answer. “No, Julius. All I can do is delay it a little bit. If the degradation continues at this same rate, we have an hour before we have to abandon ship.”
“That won’t be an option until this moon is dealt with. Our pods will be destroyed by it. You better stretch that hour as much as you can, Murdock.”
“I’ll do what I can, asshole. Murdock out.”
It was time to continue the plan. Julius exited his command module.
“I’m going with the marines now,” he said. “Ramey, you are in command.”
Julius looked around the bridge.
“Gentlemen, I don’t know if I will make it back from this. Your orders are to keep the ship together until the last possible moment, then hit the escape pods.”
Ramey stood up and approached him.
“Ramey,” Julius said, “if you abandon ship, there is a patient in the infirmary that you must get to safety. It’s my brother.”
“Daryl?” Ramey asked. “Of course, sir. I will.”
The officers were all looking at him now. Ramey began a salute, and the others joined him. Julius saluted back—they knew this would be it.
“Godspeed, sir,” Jessen said.
“To you all as well,” Julius said. He then turned to the elevator and exited the bridge—probably for the last time.
He soon arrived at the landing deck. A contingent of marines awaited him, all dressed in full body armor and carrying rifles—twenty-four of them, all Martian Confederacy.
The lead marine—a Lieutenant Frost—saluted him. Frost was a rough-looking character with a completely impassive expression. His name suited him.
Julius saluted back.
“We’re ready,” Frost said.
Julius pointed to the Confederacy insignia on Frost’s uniform.
“I guess it’s just us and the Confederacy? I would have thought at least the Vens would volunteer some forces.”
Frost raised his chin with a very slight grin.
“After what the A.I. did to them on Venus-1, it appears that the Vens yellow uniforms got yellower.”
“What happened on Venus-1…” Julius started to ask.
“Captain,” Haylek interrupted. “I have to go with you.”
Julius turned around, ready to tell him to get off the landing deck, but then he saw something that caught him off guard.
Hanging from the hacker’s neck was a jewel that glowed a kaleidoscope of colors, but what shocked him was the image floating inside it: Chorus’ face, her eyes closed, inside the jewel.
It seemed as if he now knew what was protecting the ship—but if Haylek came with them, the moon would attack the Sea Wolf.
“You have to stay here,” Julius said, pointing at the jewel. “It’s what’s protecting the ship.”
Haylek shook his head. “Chorus told me to go—and that the ship would still be protected by her conduit. She told me the moon’s defenses would not attack any ship with a conduit in it. And I have to go with you.”
“Just give me the jewel,” Julius said. “You can stay here. This mission is dangerous—”
“No!” he said. “I have to go with you. There is something I have to do when I get there… something Chorus told me I have to do.”
“Fine,” Julius said finally.
On the other end of the landing deck, beyond the blue force field, Julius could see the atmosphere of the A.I. Moon waiting for them. It was time.
“Let’s go,” Julius said.