This is a fan translation of Line of Dreams (Линия грёз) by the Russian science fiction and fantasy author Sergei Lukyanenko. The novel can be considered a fan fiction of the original Master of Orion game.
Chapter 3
There was only one target in the room: a human named Kay Altos. T/san was running towards him on his hind legs, like a giant praying mantis, clad in metal and plastic. The eyes, far more complex than those of the humans, were watching Kay's every move.
The human had almost hit him. Tech, the damned tech, that was how the humans had overcome the Meklar. It was far more difficult to enhance the equipment built into their bodies than to improve external weaponry. Humans compensated for their slow reaction time with semi-intelligent weapons, and now they even had tachyon emitters, which violated the principle of causality. The Meklars hadn't considered humans enemies for a long time; that had been decided by the Perfect One, and so it came to pass. But T/san knew an excellent way out – to hate individual humans rather than humanity in general. Ahar had once expressed this thought to him, and the Meklar considered it sensible.
Now he had a worthy object of hatred: a human in an Imperial Forces uniform, holding the butt of his damaged tachyon rifle. He clearly intended to use it as a club, but it was impossible for him to grab the hot remains of the barrel.
T/san leapt, flying over the human, and his readied stunner let loose a full charge.
For the first time in his life, the Meklar had encountered a human whose reaction speed matched his own. Kay had started moving at the moment the alien jumped, moving aside with incredible speed. The stun blast missed him, and the human hit him with his mangled weapon. His strength was worthy of a Bulrathi, and, coupled with the Meklar's own speed, the blow had a tremendous effect. His chest scales crumpled, damaging a number of biological organs and destroying the extended stunner.
Knocked down in mid-leap, the Meklar instantly turned around, watching his opponent. The human clearly had an abnormal reaction speed, the work of the Empire's genetic engineers, whose activities had been so cunningly compromised by Meklar counterintelligence many years ago. There were probably chemical stimulants at work as well, since his body was abnormally warm in the infrared spectrum. The human was burning himself out, becoming a fighting machine, almost as perfect as a cyborg.
The Meklar struck, his forelimbs crossing at Kay's legs, the giant claws intending to cut them.
Unable to avoid them, the human merely stepped forward, towards the alien, so his shins were struck by metallized flesh instead of sharp claws. An ordinary human would have ended up with broken bones, but the Meklar's limbs bounced off Kay's legs, as if they were molded rubber columns. A moment later, Kay dove under the alien, and T/san felt the three hundred kilograms of his weight lifting off the floor. The push wasn't that strong, but it was unexpected. He rolled to the smoky metal pile in the corner of the room and produced a wheezing sound, when the hot metal touched his scales. Then there was pain in his forelimb, sudden and clear. T/san jerked, realizing he had lost the limb. He saw a laser beam coming into the ceiling from the half-destroyed robot he had hit, disappearing into a melted hole.
Kay reached for the pistol on his belt, only to stop upon catching the Meklar's stare.
"I want to kill him," T/san said. Kal, holding Kay at gunpoint, shook her head, "No! His boat won't leave while he's alive."
"I—" the Meklar started again.
Kas/s/is burst out of the inferno of the hallway, nearly indistinguishable from T/san to the human eye. Even his fake ISS badge was gleaming at the same spot.
Instantly losing interest in Kay, T/san rushed at his kinsman. Kay was in the way, but Kas/s/is reached him first and threw him into the hallway with a single swipe of his leg.
Kal managed to fire twice to no effect, before the Meklars were entwined in combat. Both had their plasma gunports open, but neither risked firing, certain of an equally deadly response. She rushed to the reptiles, rolling on the floor, trying to make out which of them still had all six limbs, but a series of shots from the dark hallway forced Kal to retreat to the grim area of the charred bodies.
All she could do was wait for the appearance of Lemak's vaunted marines.
Kay crossed the hallway in a minute and a half. The ventilation was working at full capacity, so the temperature was slightly lower here. He didn't feel pain in his legs from the Meklar's blows, but he knew that, by evening (if he had an evening), his body would swell.
The boat's hatch was open. Kay burst onto the bridge, where Andrey was standing. He had probably strapped the boys into bed.
"Twenty seconds," Kay said quickly, seeing Andrey's hand on the console interface. "Let's give Kas/s/is a chance."
"Should I take off on plasma?" the cyborg asked a quarter of a minute later. Dutch was looking at one of the screens, which was showing the charred opening of the hallway. Kal would probably not have time to leave, and death would delay her for a time.
"On gravity," Kay ordered. "Ship, detach the stealth unit after the launch. Let them have two targets."
"This base will have enough turrets for two dozen targets," Andrey assured him. "I've served on one before."
A laser beam cut a neat opening in the outer hatch, and the boat floated out into space in the whirlwind of freezing air.
"Two targets," the operator stated. "The boat leaving at the seventeenth coordinate is a fake. Its mass is an order of magnitude lower than the standard."
Lemak was watching the screen.
"Shall we fire?" the officer asked impatiently.
"Are you able to slice off their drives without damaging the habitation module?"
"They have good shields, we'll have to use tachyon emitters. They'll be vaporized."
"Destroy the fake."
The operator's eyes held everything but comprehension.
"Follow my order."
Lemak turned to his aide, who was of better schooling; there was not a shadow of a doubt on his face.
"I want the Hound and my destroyer prepared. Start the repairs. Classify what happened here top secret. That is all."
The aide turned around.
"Hold on. How many have been killed permanently?"
"Twenty-seven, Admiral. The rest have aTan."
"Prepare individual condolences to their loved ones, and don't forget to give them to me before sending. I'll sign them myself."
Over his long life, Lemak had plenty of opportunity to learn how much people valued genuine humanity.
