Star Carrier (Lost Colonies Trilogy Book 3) by B. V. Larson Page A

orders one way or the other.”
    The connection closed with disconcerting suddenness. My world went black for a moment until my real surroundings took precedence and settled in around me.
    He’d given me much to think about, but I didn’t have time to ponder it all. I had my own pressing problems.
    I almost made a mistake then. I almost contacted Marine Commander Morris via my implant. It was a reflex that was hard to avoid.
    Instead, I stepped out into the passages of the ship and marched off in search of him. With any luck, I’d find him in the vicinity of the engineering section on the lower decks. The troop module and the primary armory were located down there.
    The main cargo hold and our odd new friends known as variants were also on that same deck. That should make this entire affair come to a conclusion soon after it began if events went according to my plans.

-13-
     
    Morris and his troops met me outside the cargo hold.
    “It’s them, isn’t it?” he asked. “Those freaks inside? I knew they’d be trouble the second they came aboard.”
    Nodding, I didn’t try to deny it. I hadn’t been specific about the nature of the threat previously because I didn’t want him to spread the word about the details. It seemed likely these creatures would find out if we did.
    He tested the swivel-cannon on his body-shell and seemed satisfied.
    “We’re good to go, Captain,” he said.
    I stepped to the hold and reached out a hand to open the hatch. This made Morris flinch as he’d never liked to see me put myself into danger.
    “My plan isn’t to go in guns blazing,” I told the marines who leaned closer around me. “Everyone, back up. Stay here until I give you a signal. I want to see if they’re in a talking mood first.”
    “They don’t talk ,” Morris said. “At least… that’s what I heard.”
    “We’ll soon learn the truth.”
    I touched the hatch, releasing the lock. It opened and squealed, grinding metal against metal. The hatch was powered and swung open fully. Inside, it was brightly lit and full of equipment.
    There was no immediate sign of the variants, but I could hear them. They were generating a sound that reminded me of beating wings heard in close proximity.
    Frowning, I stepped cautiously into the hold and looked this way and that. After another ten steps in, Morris hissed behind me.
    “Captain?”
    I glanced back toward the open hatch. Morris and his men were nothing if not disciplined. They were clustered at the hatchway where they’d been ordered to remain.
    Signaling them to enter, I stepped farther into the hold. The peculiar fluttering sounds were irregular now, and they grew louder.
    It turned out these odd noises were coming from the embodiment of inhuman efficiency. I came around a six meter tall rack and found them there, all three of the monstrosities, working at a frenetic pace.
    It’s hard to describe what variants are like close-up to anyone who hasn’t met them personally. They move with amazing precision and speed. Their arms—each had at least six of them—were almost like the blades of a helicopter. They flashed and thrummed in the air, taking items from one another and the shelves around them with blurring speed.
    Their whipping arms were long, too. They could grab things from the top shelf or the bottom one without stretching. In contrast to the speed of their upper bodies, the group glided much more slowly on their feet. Overall, they gave me an alien feeling while I watched them.
    Their lower bodies were like those of an insect’s thorax. They had six legs each, and they moved every leg as slowly as their arms were moving quickly. The difference between the two was unnatural and disturbing as everything else about them.
    They didn’t bump along when they walked the way that humans do. They seemed to glide—like a trio of spiders doing a slow, methodical crawl as a group. It was only their whipping arms that moved with startling rapidity.
    Their heads