The Black Gate (The Messenger #11) - J.N. Chaney Page 0,98

fastened down into space.

Dash snapped his own tether in place, then took position beside Conover behind a marine heavy auto-railer. Basically an upscaled, automatic version of the standard mag-rifle, the auto-railer could pump out five hypervelocity projectiles a second. In a firepower demo, Dash had watched one of these beasts turn a cargo pod to shredded metal scrap in just a few seconds. If it had to fire in here, the far bulkhead would probably hold against under the deluge of fire but would need some serious repairs afterward.

That, concluded Dash, was a risk he would take.

The Marine company commander, a tall, slender man who obviously hailed from a low-grav world, gave Dash a thumbs up. “We’re ready when you are, sir!”

Dash nodded and looked around. Most of the Inner Circle was present, less Leira, Amy, and Jexin, who hung outside the fabrication bay in their mechs as extra insurance. It also ensured that, should the worst-case scenario play out and something happened to Dash, Leira would be able to immediately take over as his second-in-command. Benzel was absent, too, overseeing the fleet as it repaired and rearmed from the last battle. Lomas, Elois, and Grunne were all here, along with a small group of engineers and military officers from the Rimworld League.

“Okay, Custodian,” Dash said. “Do it.”

A cluster of grapplers, articulated arms ending in various sorts of tools and grippers, descended from overhead. They extracted one missile from the tube, moved it aside, and placed it in a cradle. The warheads had been previously removed, while the missiles were still outside the Forge, but that still left twelve missile hulls to be removed and examined—

One of the missiles still in the launcher suddenly split open, and Deepers came swarming out. The platoons and squads had already been given their orders, and almost immediately opened fire. Within seconds, each of the Deepers had been chopped to gory pieces. In the silence afterward, a mist of caustic Deeper fluids and combat propellant hung like a curse, rendering each breath into a reminder of war.

Dash grunted in approval. “Well, that worked.”

None of the other missiles disgorged Deepers. In minutes, all of them had been extracted, placed into cradles, and were being scoured by Custodian for every possible nuance. The entire process was done with mechanical efficiency, a fact not lost on Dash and his commanders.

“We’re becoming more like them,” Dash said.

“But they’ll never be like us,” Kai said evenly.

“Why just one missile holding Deepers?” Viktor asked. “You’d think it would make more sense to do that with all of them, so they remain a threat whether they blow up or not?”

“Especially if you don’t care about losing your own, ah, combat personnel. Not sure people really fits here,” Harolyn added.

“They do not care about any life, including their own,” Kai replied. “The Enemy is incapable of it. It is their nature. Again, they are not like us, and never can be.”

Dash glanced at Kai. He wasn’t used to seeing the monk in vac-armor. Between the imposing bulk of his suit and his fierce glare, he looked like an avenging holy figure—a paladin on a quest for righteous vengeance.

Not for the first time, it made Dash glad the monk and his just-as-devout brethren were on their side.

“It may be that they simply don’t have enough Deepers to fill all their missiles,” Conover said. “Or maybe the missiles carrying Deepers really are meant for boarding primarily, and it’s the warhead they carry that’s the backup.”

“Or it’s something completely outside our current ability to get who or what they are,” Dash said, shrugged. “We have to accept the possibility that we’ll never know, and not because of anything we’re doing. But because of them being so alien.”

“I can’t even begin to guess at some of their processes,” Conover said. “Our common base is too different. I mean, what if the life of one galaxy is connected by some small thread, but anything from outside that set is just—unknowable?”

In unison, everyone turned to look at him.

“Let’s hope we can know the critical parts. Like how to win,” Dash said, beaming at Conover.

“Preliminary results of the scans are available,” Custodian cut in. A holo-image flashed up in mid-air, depicting a good two dozen different data channels, and four split screens of imagery. The Inner Circle and the Rimworld League contingent gathered around it.

“Okay, most of this is just raw data to me,” Dash finally said. “Custodian, can you explain this in a short version? Gimme the prime