"I was just starting to scan when you woke up, but I didn't find any. We don't have a portable shelter anymore, either. I tried to grab one of our backpacks, but they weren't having that."
"They just rushed in and took the ship? No chance at diplomacy?" Gavin asked.
"I told them to stop, but they were rushing, so I shot the one in the lead twice. He was wearing some kind of thick plating on his chest, I should have aimed for his head."
"Then they might have killed you instead of tossing us both over the side. You did the right thing, we're alive, and we still have some supplies in our pockets."
"Enough food for three days," Skylar nodded. "There are probably tubers and berries we can eat too. The ripe ones I've seen those birds fight over are everywhere."
A stirring in the brush along the shoreline alerted them to a tall, long armed trio of robots that were crawling through, crushing brambles and long, switch like branches to the ground as they pushed through the thicket running along the shore. Two humans rode the nearest bots, astride their long bodies like children on their parent's backs, controlling the bots with improvised rods welded to their shoulders. The human riders wore thick isolation suits, their helmets hanging off their saddles, which were small seats from hover cars. The third rider's helmet was sealed, the face plate tinted darkly so Gavin could only see the suggestion of two yellow eyes that were many times too large to be human. "Don't eat those without cooking them first, or you'll get real drunk, real fast and regret it in the morning. Then again, that's fine if it's the kind of party you're after." The human who spoke did so with a broad smile, and his eyes assessed him and Skylar thoroughly. "I'm Gusson, we're Riggers."
"What's a Rigger?" Gavin asked, looking more closely at the machines and they rode and the controls used to manipulate them. The source of their name was immediately obvious to him as he saw that the rods they used as handles had small buttons and thumb sized controller sticks installed in them.
"The United Core Authority blasted this world with their pulses, burned out a lot of robo-brains. We get 'em together and make them work for us, just dumb machines now, but good enough. What are you called? Who are your people? Where you from?"
Those were all good questions. They were soldiers in His Majesty, Prince Connor Lux's army, but that didn't matter. The Prince may as well have been dead to them, and while that realization made Gavin's heart ache, he knew a long explanation about where they came from wouldn't serve.
"We're lost," Skylar said. "Some Earth outfit called Citadel took us captive when our ship was destroyed in the Geist system." Gavin thought her explanation was genius. Just enough of the truth for them to think they've gotten a straight answer but avoiding their attachment to the Lux Royal family. Low born swamp dwellers probably didn't care much for anyone with an attachment to the royals. Relating to these people might require some low thinking. "We escaped from the Citadel ship when it arrived in orbit and started fighting with the locals, but another gang took our lifepod when we landed."
"Did they say 'hey' a lot and smell like dirt?" asked the other human, a woman who had a long slash scar up her jaw.
"They said 'hey' a lot," Skylar agreed.
"Buckside Raiders," she cursed. "Was it a nice ship? Did it have guns?"
"No, it was a lifepod, a large one with supplies, but unarmed, like a civilian shuttle," Skylar said.
"If it was like a shuttle, then it's been sold for scriff, they might be getting high already," Gusson said. "You two know how to work with bots? Maybe a little chemistry?" The second question made the Issyrian's head jerk towards Gusson. "Think you could tell us about tech from Geist?"
"We didn't get to keep our scan data of Geist, but we both have training in repair, programming," Gavin said.
"I'm sure we could be useful until we figure out what our next move is," Skylar said, her eyes looking up through the branches overhead after a trio of ships passing overhead at speed.
"Then we'll feed you, get to talking about some new tech," Gusson said. "We always like hearing about new tech, but you've got to hurry. Iron Port is coming." He pointed over their heads.
Skylar and Gavin looked behind them in time to see a massive, roughly oval shape up in the sky, an imposing silhouette against the yellow-red setting sun. "What is that?" he pointed his scanner at it and saw the profile of a three-kilometre-long colony ship with one third of its top missing entirely, as though it was blasted open by large weapons.
"It's Iron Mind's city, Iron Port. Never touches the ground, doesn't talk to us unless it's trade day. It won't pass over tonight, but its patrols will buzz around plenty. Come," Gusson said insistently.
The scanner couldn't make out as much detail as Gavin liked, but he could see that the converted ship was using antigravity generators to stay up, and would be as stable as a mountain, that it had powerful shielding and several hangars where fighters were launching and landing. It had been modified so much that it only resembled its original specifications in shape alone. "That is amazing," Gavin said as he stared at his scanner, allowing Skylar to lead him by the hand. "Are they hostile?"
"Only if you attack, we speak to them on trading days. Lots of factions go there, but if they break the peace they get put off or killed," Gusson explained. He was leading them in the direction of the refinery, and Gavin expected to find that they'd settled in there.
"You trade food with them," Gavin said. "Food you make from the algae you're growing."
"You've heard of us?" Gusson asked, looking over his shoulder with suspicion.
A squeeze from Skylar's hand told him he was either thinking too far ahead or saying something she guessed would lead to trouble. "No, we just arrived, but this basic scanner tells me there's a contained lake of algae, so I guessed."
"It can see the formula?" asked the Issyrian, alarmed at the notion. "My formula?"
"No," Skylar said. "Just that it's algae, and it's dense, not safe for drinking or swimming in."
"Let me see," the Issyrian guided his robot mount around, and if it wasn't such a tense situation, Gavin might have laughed at how the machine walked on its hands and knees, a blank expression on its metal face.
He showed the readings to the Issyrian, who nodded. "Turn it off, that's all you see, or I take the scanner." The words came through an emitter at the bottom of his mask, and Gavin could hear the bubbles, whines and rushing of liquid inside as he spoke.
Gavin turned his scanner off, then put it in his pocket. "I won't scan your algae, don't worry."
"Or my equipment," the Issyrian said menacingly before turning his mount and riding up alongside Gusson. He spoke to him secretively, still irritated.
"I think I made things worse for us," Gavin said.
"Not by much," Skylar whispered back. "They have blade shooters, and even though those bots don't look like much, they're faster than us, so running probably won't be an option unless we find an opportunity."
"So, we have to make ourselves important to these people," Gavin said. "Or run and take our chances in the swamp." A lizard twice as long as he was tall slipped out of the water, crossed behind them, then slid back into the black muck. It had the teeth of a carnivore and moved almost as fast as he could run with a belly fat with recently ingested prey.
Skylar looked from where the reptile disappeared into the water to him with wide blue eyes. "Diplomacy first."
Forty-Five
The Flesh Tech facility was part research complex and part order fulfilment centre for doll buyers. The wardrobe section of the base was astonishing, but mostly because Spin recognized several outfits that she not only wore during her years of service, but preferred. The warehouse sized collection of clothing made her wonder. "How many dolls were they producing here?"
"Here? Only select models, normally the newest," Spence replied. "There are other custom design and fulfilment centres, several bulk production facilities, but we weren't able to get in touch with any of them."
"If you're wondering about
the clothes, and why they kept so much stock here, it's because these are the garments made the old-fashioned way. Guaranteed not to be out of some plastics printer, or auto fabricator. They ship these all over, I'm pretty sure they were overcharging," Sophia added.
"Custom design centre?" Spin asked.
"There are several of them, we couldn't see the whole list, but they build dolls to order, sometimes made to look like famous people who licensed their likenesses or based on the genetics of lost relatives. I saw that the Lux Royal Family pays to maintain one in their home system, but most of the reserved facilities are bulk producers. I don't know exactly what they do, but big companies pay a lot of money just to control what comes out of those places."
"The United Core World Authority?" Spin asked.
"I saw two bulk production facilities with their names on the list. Those complexes aren't allowed to produce anything unless it's for them," Spence said. "You think you've run into synthetics in their uniforms?"
"I don't know," Spin said. "But they bounced back awfully fast after the virus spread. Maybe that's how they filled their ranks with competent soldiers."
"Spin," Frost said over her communicator. "One of the Dasian landers managed to drop off a few soldiers ahead of you, they're heading into the warehouse."
"All right," Spin said as she saw the large doors ahead of them turn red, indicating that's where they were coming from. "All right, you two turn your stealth systems on and hide behind those crates," Spin said, directing Sophia and Spencer. "Everyone else; cloak. We'll outflank them."
"You're getting better at this by the minute," Boro said as she marked positions for everyone on her tactical display.
Dori didn't move to the spot Spin sent her to using her tactical system, but everyone else was in position quickly. Spin saw that Dori ran to her left, then leapt up onto a catwalk. "This good?" she asked.
It was a better position than Spin suggested for her. "It is, wait for my order to fire," Spin said. Boro was to the left of the doors, she was to the right, Aldo was a little further out from the doorway on the same side with Sophia and Spence furthest from the doors at the back of the warehouse. There was a forest of clothing racks and crates between them and the door, essential to keeping them safe since Spin was sure that if anyone would be detected it was that pair. Their cloaking systems weren't nearly as sophisticated since they were wearing basic military vacsuits. Sure, they were better than anything Spin had seen while being light and thin, but everyone else wore heavy encounter armour.
The doors opened and a trio of Dasians emerged. Their wide heads and bodies reminded Spin of Kort. Their eyes didn't seem right, just like his: they were too small for their heads with strange, dark pupils. She momentarily wondered if Kort was actually trying to look like one of the tall, powerful looking non-humans using all the modifications he'd made to himself. He could have blended into their number seamlessly.
Their helmets were transparent except for a strip of green metal running down the top. The leader carried a wide-bore rifle with a smaller emitter above it, while the others had rifles featuring a number of cooling vents and finned heatsinks that opened and closed like stretching fingers. She noted that there were three emitters on the ends of their weapons with tiny holes between them.
The trio started moving in, four more entering the warehouse behind them. The leader's lips were moving, and her communications system picked up his lip movement, read it, then translated it for her after a few seconds. Their language was basic, rated much simpler than most by her system. "Our computer said there were targets moving in here. The doors did not open until we came. They must still be here. Fan out and search. Ojib, Tinir; you watch the door. If anything escapes you will capture it or we will hunt you for sport while we travel home."
The passive scanners finished analysing their armour and Spin barely understood most of the results. They were in a shorthand she recognized from the Haven Fleet Military Equipment Manual, but she didn't memorize them. What she could understand of it was that they were wearing a set of plates that were attached to a cybernetic exoskeleton that was affixed to their bones, which were enhanced with some kind of organic metal treatment. Their armour's space worthiness was achieved in how the plates interlocked, which also gave them a large tolerance to sudden pressure changes. Their race was naturally strong, but their exoskeletons were motorized, making them much stronger, just as physically powerful as anyone in an encounter suit. "Keep your distance, don't let them get their hands on you. Everyone fire on the leader once Boro has a shot, maximum intensity, then move before firing again." Spin looked for a weak spot and couldn't find anything they could hit while the Dasian's arms weren't raised. The weakest linkage in their armour plates was under the arm, but she couldn't see how they could make that shot. "Aim for his faceplate."
"Aye," Boro said. "Moving back so I can get a good shot."
"I see something at the far end of this section," said one of the soldiers behind the leader who was looking at a bulky hand scanner.
"I'm in position," Boro said. "Firing in three, two, one," all at once, Spin, Dori, and Aldo fired a sustained burst at the Dasian leader, who sank to his knees once it was over, one side of his head open and charred. What was left of his mouth worked to form a word that couldn't be completed. "Move and open fire on my marked target," Spin said as she ran from her position. The Dasians who were directly behind their leader opened fire to their left and right, blasting chunks of the durable plastic crates Spin and her friends were hiding behind into the air. The emitters on their rifles weren't what she expected, some kind of focused light or plasma shooters, but they seemed to use some kind of gravity or force bolt to blast their targets apart. It was a weapon that didn't value accuracy but was made to tear through crowds or nearby enemies for shock and horror value.
Boro frantically ran out of the line of fire, his shields taking a direct hit. The clothing behind him was flung in all directions, catching fire as they spun through the air. "Holy crap, their weapons are bloody serious. I just lost my shield after one hit."
Spin momentarily considered telling everyone to switch from cloaking to shielded combat mode, their shields would be far more powerful, but dismissed the notion as Boro found cover behind a thick metal pillar. "Ready to fire on the second target," she said.
"Get the prey at the back! There are cowards who fight like spirits here!" shouted one of the Dasians at the door.
Spin saw that everyone's rifles were pointing at her second target, the one that entered to the left of the leader. "Firing in…" she was interrupted as four of the Dasian's leapt over most of the clothing racks. "Fire!" she shouted. "Burst and move."
She raked two of them as they landed. It didn't cut through their armour, their efforts weren't focused enough, but the four Dasians were in the middle of burst fire as Aldo, Dori and Boro kept up their assault, sending barrages of powerful explosive rounds at them. After only a few bursts, much of the rest of the clothing between them and the Dasians had caught fire, and the firefight continued in a forest of red flame topped with black smoke. Spin tossed a grenade that she'd pulled from the inventory of the Sector Jumper that was called 'The Bot Buster' and watched as the tiny thrusters propelled it towards one of the Dasians guarding the door. The grenade's first phase of attack happened so fast, she almost didn't have time to see it in action: it was in the air, then the pinhole thrusters fired, and it made the distance between it and the soldier's helmet in less than a second. Once it struck, it affixed, then an intense, contained electromagnetic pulse went off followed by three pulses of extreme heat that burned a hole through the soldier's helmet as he danced around, trying to pull it off. He sank to his knees, the other soldier at the door unable to move his right leg and arm. "My implants are damaged, I can't move! What is that?"
The grenade was almost finished its work. With the last of its charge, it offered her the option to detonate the compressed explosive within, and she nodded. The deck shook as the gren
ade blasted the Dasian door guards, leaving little of them left. The site of their destruction was marked by a hole where the door they stood beside was and a warped section of floor behind.
Spin turned her attention back to the firefight in progress in time to see the catwalk Dori was running on crumble as one of their enemies ripped it apart with explosive rounds. Dori fell from the catwalk, still firing, landed on her feet and rolled into a run. They hadn't managed to hit her more than twice, her low powered stealth shields absorbing the first hit, while the armour took the second.
There were only two Dasians left as Spin opened fire on the nearest, and all her people were in good shape. The air was thick with smoke, so their in-helmet system created a clearer image of their surroundings using sensor data. Boro moved the least as he fired burst after burst at their enemies. Aldo rolled, ran, and sidestepped with practiced skill between shots and Dori was surprisingly graceful, using the enhanced strength of the encounter suit to leap and roll between bursts. The Dasians had less luck hitting her once she was down off the catwalk.
Spin made sure she knew where she was about to move to before opening fire with double bursts, and by the time one of their enemies fired back, she wasn't there anymore. "Prisoners, boss?" asked Aldo.
"No," Spin said simply. It wasn't a considered response, but automatic. "No mercy for slavers," she added.
By the time the last Dasian dropped his rifle, staggering with an opening in his side and a section of his helmet burned open, Spin was only nine metres away. His too-broad face, so much like Kort's, turned, fine grey scales that were marked as a primary type of armour that were bonded to his skin, blacked around his mouth and thin nostrils. "Where are you? I want to see the ghosts who bested us!" he coughed on the smoke, holding the shreds of his right arm close to his body. His left was gone reduced to several rods that hung from his shoulder. The wound was sealed off by his outer suit, and there was a chance he'd survive his injuries if they let his suit work on him, at least that was according to the data her sensors were pulling in.
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