The Terran Cycle Boxset

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  This was different though. It was much bigger and far more intimidating. The hull was a polished silver, reflecting the light of the distant star.

  Like wasps leaving a nest, smaller ships could be seen heading down to the planet, with some breaking off in the Hammer’s direction.

  The Captain’s voice sounded over the speakers again. “Every able man and woman, arm yourselves immediately. We are about to be boarded...”

  Roland could hear it in her voice. The ship’s sensors had probably told them what he already suspected. They weren’t dealing with humans.

  Soldiers poured out of the various doors around the hangar, each one heavily armed and wearing full gear. He had to hand it to them, they mobilised faster than he thought they would. Leaving the stupid engineers to gawp through the membrane Roland was already making his way to the nearest Heavy Raptor. He found what he was looking for almost immediately. He entered the code into the weapons locker and retrieved a few of his favourite tools, lining his vest with shock and tungsten grenades, flat sticky mines and a good old-fashioned knife, he checked and loaded an SM72 which he slung around his back. It was more primitive than a rail-gun or the LX strapped to his thigh. It wouldn’t fire charged proton particles but its explosive rounds would make a bloody mess of everything. Ensuring he had enough clips in his belt, he turned to leave before something caught his eye. A black box tucked under the weapons stand with the letters LX 14-02 stamped on the side.

  The protocol was strict on the use of LX calibre weapons, only one per band five personnel. Due to the volatile nature, if misused, he understood the reason for caution. In his previous career, he had been allowed to choose his own load outs with no protocols restricting him, but he had never had the opportunity to use two photon weapons at once.

  He strapped the extra holster around his thigh and charged the weapon before slotting it into place on his leg. He was very good at calculating the odds, it came with the experience. His initial assessment of the new ship instantly told him they were outgunned, in numbers and weaponry. Crew survival was minimal, most didn’t have the training he had, but even a rookie knew the basics of ship-to-ship combat: take the bridge.

  Descending the ramp of the Raptor he made a bee-line for the executive command lift. The membrane cut around the first craft as it entered the hangar with predatory intent. Two were able to fit in at once with space to manoeuvre. They were definitely not of human design. Being the same polished silver as the mother ship, they were all curves with a sleek finish to them. The cockpit windows were narrow and blacked out, preventing any view of the new intruders. Two cannons dropped out from under the belly of each craft as the hangar erupted in gunfire and explosions. The UDC soldiers didn’t wait to be attacked. It was all useless though, everything was repelled by the dense hull of each craft. Roland had already suspected this and saved his ammo for the real show.

  It was the invaders turn to attack, only it wasn’t what he expected. Each cannon rapidly unleashed its alien ammunition upon the hangar. It sounded more biological than mechanical. It wasn’t firing projectiles or some kind of energy-based weapon. Every surface they hit was covered in giant globules of green goo. He saw two soldiers running in the opposite direction when the cannon hit the floor behind them. It exploded on impact coating both men from head to toe in the thick green gel. As they fell on all fours, the goo made a cracking sound as it solidified around them holding them in place. One of them was completely covered but the other was stuck in a crouching position screaming for help.

  New assessment: they want prisoners.

  That was both interesting and disturbing to Roland. The nearest craft opened up from the bottom, he counted eight targets drop in quick succession from the ship. He couldn’t believe the height they were dropping from until he saw them hit the floor. Each one slowed down right before their feet touched the ground with a visible distortion under their boots.

  Taking cover behind the closest Raptor, he took a moment to examine this new enemy. They had spread out into a similar formation to UDC tactics. His immediate realisation was their shape. Bipedal like him, they had two arms and legs. A particular part of his brain was already making the assessment that they must have hinge joints, easily broken. They were of the same height averaging at about six feet tall. They didn’t look particularly bulky or stronger than him, their armour looked impressive though. They were fully covered in shiny black armour with sleek helmets that curved around their whole face. He flagged a potential weakness that they may require something other than oxygen to breathe.

  Taking a closer look he could see the gaps in the armour, where a padded undersuit was visible. Now he knew where to aim. Their weapons were long with a stock at the back for better aiming. Each one had multiple lights and dials along the side which led into the long barrel. The one in front of him flicked an unseen switch and a small scope popped up from within the gun. The side of each weapon had a blue hologram emitting an image with various readouts.

  His three seconds of examination was up.

  Time to skip to the good bit.

  Pulling both pistols from their holsters he lifted them to each ear, listening for the chirp to signify they were fully charged. Before he could reveal himself an enraged UDC soldier emerged from behind the crates beside him. He fired his own SM72 at the invaders, screaming a useless war cry as he did. The retaliation was swift and precise. Three quick flashes of blue light struck the soldier burning through his armour and bursting out the other side. Roland could smell ozone steaming from the body. This changed things, they were obviously happy to kill a few who couldn’t otherwise be captured.

  It made no difference to his reaction though.

  He deftly spun one eighty round the Raptor and dropped to one knee as he brought his weapons to bear. He was able to get two shots off before they reacted. Both shots hit their mark with the lead intruder dropping to the floor, a charred hole between his helmet and shoulder plate. The second target was propelled into a nearby crate, as the gap between his knee-pad and the armour around his thigh burst apart, separating the two. The alien’s shots went wild into the air as he crumpled to the floor.

  Hit and run was the best tactic when dealing with groups. Create confusion, split them up and get stuck in. Before they focused their aim he dived to the side, aiming for the cover of a technician’s workstation. To keep them off balance he continued to fire in their direction with only a general aim. He saw three of his shots reach the target, but to no effect. Their armour was tough if a photon-based weapon could only make them stumble. Staying ducked down behind the station he inspected the levels on each gun. According to the levels on the side, they had already started to cool down.

  Time to scatter, boys.

  He pulled a tungsten and shock grenade from his vest, priming the shock grenade to maximum with the meter on the side. Using his mouth, he pulled the pin from the tungsten grenade and felt the vibration in his hand. He knew there were only three vibrations before it would explode. After the second he threw both of them over his head behind him. He heard the mad scramble of booted feet before the metallic clinks of the grenades touched down.

  Smoke and debris flew over the top of the station, along with an alien foot. Still inside the remains of the boot, the foot reminded Roland of a ninja’s foot with the segmented line down the middle rather than accentuating the big toe. Their blood was red with tiny sparkles glittering in the light. Aside from the crystal-like feature, it was very much like human blood. To that end, he assumed they could breathe oxygen and the helmets were just for protection.

  He knew for sure he had killed three out of the eight so far, five more to go. Going around the other side of the station he stood up to survey the damage. The ground was charred and smoke hung in the air. The two closest targets were banging on the side of their visors. No doubt the shock grenade had knocked out whatever electronics they had inside.

  He stepped forward aiming both weapons at each invader. If their biologi
cal structure was as similar to humans as he suspected, the first shot would be instant death. He unleashed the charged photon particle into the padding at the back of the neck where the helmet left them exposed. He was only vaguely aware of the head snapping forward as the vertebrae disintegrated. He was already aiming at the target further away. The shot impacted him under the arm, eviscerating his chest cavity.

  Before he even crumpled to the floor, Roland was sliding across the gap between him and the next invader. The alien turned on him but was too late to act with such a long weapon. At the last second, the alien decided to attack Roland with the butt of the rifle. That was expected. Having already holstered his left pistol he intercepted the butt and reversed the action, forcing it into the visor. With the intruder’s head lifted, it was a simple matter of slipping the LX under the helmet ridge and pulling the trigger. At this range the charged particle left through the top of the helmet, having melted the head within.

  The last two targets were behind the dead alien he was using as a shield. Darting his hand out to the right he shot the first one square in the visor. It didn’t penetrate, but it knocked him on his ass. That gave him enough time to scope out the last target in his peripheral vision. He felt the shudder as the propped up body took several hits from what might well have been a friend, if aliens have friends. Roland pulled down the top half of the limp body and shot the alien between every gap he could see in the armour. After various body parts ejected themselves the main body slumped to the floor. Roland couldn’t help but smile at his work; despite the armour, they were just as fragile as humans.

  The one he hit square in the visor was beginning to regain his senses. Just as he got to his knees Roland pushed his hand onto the helmet exposing the back of the neck. Retrieving the knife from the side of his vest, he pushed down separating the spinal cord. A quick death. Most people thought he was sadistic in the way he went about his work, just because he enjoyed it. Truth was, he just loved a good fight. Why kill a man in an hour when you can kill him in a second?

  The other landing craft had moved further into the hangar now with more following. He saw more intruders dropping from the ships followed by a staccato of gunfire. He needed to get to the bridge.

  The space between him and the executive lift had become a war zone. At least a dozen men and women had been solidified in the green goo. He checked behind him only to see his intended eggheads plastered to the side of the shuttle. One of them was waving a hand through the gap in the gel.

  Moving from cover to cover he made his way over to the lift unseen. The hand reader on the wall accepted his print and allowed him access. The whir of the doors masked the sound of the coming attack. The black-clad invader buried all of its force into Roland’s back, pushing them both into the lift. Amid the tussle, he heard the LX fall to the floor at his feet; turning his head to see his attacker had been a stupid move. His mistake cost him an armoured headbutt across his right eye. The blood partially blinded him, but mostly it just irritated the crap out of him.

  Four strikes to his abdomen and torso knocked Roland to the floor. The blows told him one thing though; they were no stronger than the average human. He felt a hand grip the back of his vest, time to put their bone structure to the test. Much like the arm, the knee joint is designed to move one way and one way only: Roland’s favourite fact about the body. While crouched on the floor he used the placement of his body to hide his right hand moving around the attacker’s right heel. Before the invader could pull him up for a final beating, he pushed all his weight through his right shoulder and into the alien kneecap. He felt the bones give way under his weight. Roland decided the helmets must be sound proof since he didn’t hear the inevitable scream.

  The alien collapsed to the floor falling against the door, gripping his broken leg. Making sure the fight had ended; Roland leaned over and snapped his neck. With that, the lift doors parted and the limp corpse dropped onto the command centre floor. Wiping the blood from his eye he saw eleven guns pointed at him with Captain Fey in the middle.

  He imagined he was quite the sight with blood and ash smeared on his face, not to mention the small arsenal he was wearing.

  “I guess it’s a party now, huh?” Roland always knew what to say in a tense moment.

  With the captain lowering her weapon, the crew followed her example and relaxed for a second.

  She stormed over to the dead body on her bridge. “Why have they attacked us?” She tapped its helmet with her foot.

  It hadn’t escaped him that she skipped the part about them being alien.

  “We didn’t exactly stop to chit chat, Captain. And why haven’t the gun batteries fired back?” Roland dragged the body into the lift and dumped it in a heap.

  “The targeting system can’t locate them.” The captain hadn’t taken her eyes off the corpse.

  “What do you mean, it can’t locate them? It’s the massive ship to port!” Roland hoped they didn’t notice him point to starboard.

  “Every time we lock on, the targeting system goes haywire and fires wild.”

  The captain was pacing between the nervous crew.

  “They’re going to find a way in here. Taking the bridge will be their first objective.” He removed the sticky mine from his vest and stuck it to the inside of the lift wall, with the corpse. “I suggest we reach the armoury and fortify it. We can regroup with stragglers there and plan our next move.”

  A young looking cadet turned from her monitor. “The lift terminal is being hacked Captain. Do you want me to shut down power?”

  Roland didn’t give her time to answer. “Leave it. Power’s about to go out anyway.”

  The captain shot him a curious look but he ignored her, there was a boom coming. He bent over the nearest monitor bringing up the cam feed from outside the bridge doors.

  The room shook with a distant explosion originating from the lift shaft. He couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face at the idea of the intruders cramming into the lift before oblivion took them.

  With everyone focusing on the smoke filtering through the lift door, Roland continued his assessment of the route to the armoury. “It looks clear at the moment but we’re gonna need to move fast, like right now.”

  He looked to the captain, knowing the others wouldn’t move without her precious orders. What he wouldn’t give for the good old days. He lived his life going from place to place between missions, resources and wealth took care of by the UDC. He never even saw the man who gave him his mission parameters. He picked up his package from the designated drop-point and assessed the data at a secure location, of his choosing. Now he had a rank and very clear superiors. At least they made him a commander, if he had been reduced to a cadet or even lieutenant he would have moved into the Hammer’s brig on his first day.

  The captain shared a look with him and nodded with her agreement in his assessment. “Crash-dump everything, I don’t want them getting a single shred of information off my ship. Send a ship-wide message; everyone is to head straight to the armoury.”

  As she spoke, two cadets quickly went to work on one of the central standing monitors. Moments later Roland and everyone else on the ship received a message on their wrist touchpad.

  “We need your authorisation code, Captain.”

  They were all sweating with nervous looks; they weren’t trained for this kind of action. They had no doubt run through identical scenarios to this one, but not against such superior technology and firepower. Captain Fey tapped her unique code onto the touch glass. Every monitor on the bridge suddenly went dark as the internal magnets were activated, wiping all the hard drives of their data.

  “Take point, Commander North.”

  Lead? Shit...

  He didn’t want to lead anything. He was hoping they would all run along to the armoury and he could go back to doing what he did best. He calculated the odds again; some of them weren’t going to make it. All they had were their standard sidearm, which might as well have been water pistols.
>
  “Stay on my hip. Nobody goes ahead of me and you move when I tell you to and you stop when I tell you to. Clear?” He so preferred working alone.

  “Yes sir!” came the resounding chorus.

  He looked at the captain mockingly, how could she put up with this crap every day? Much to their confusion, Roland didn’t return their salute either. Instead, he moved over to the keypad next to the bridge doors. Now that the Hammer had crash-dumped all the information, the handprint pads were useless, leaving him to type in the unique door code into the keypad. After the little light turned green he pulled up the list of all the door codes on his wrist touchpad.

  The heavy bridge doors parted in half to reveal an empty well-lit corridor. The alarm had been muted now but the walls still flashed red and yellow lights. The corridors were black with white square panels placed over the top, adding to the sterile image of all things UDC. The walkway curved round to the left which Roland knew would lead to a T-junction from the map on his wrist. Once there he pressed against each wall, checking the corridors for threats.

  It was impossible to be quiet with all the feet behind him. He held up a solid fist in the air as he stopped mid-walk. He heard the familiar sound of energy weapons not far from their location. They were making their way to the bridge already. He swivelled three-sixty, checking the surrounding doors for somewhere to hide the sheep.

  “Everyone back up into cartography. We’ll let them pass.”

  To his amazement, they didn’t look to the captain for approval. Only seconds after the door slid shut they all heard the sounds of heavy boots passing by. Turning from the door he took in the room. It was spherical in shape with a white domed ceiling and low lighting. Holograms projected different star charts all over the room until one by one they fizzled out and the console lights flickered for a moment.