Shockwave, Gopher Guts, and Dirty Feet have assembled at Edwards Port Tech Zone C-5 for our mission to Ahaam. It’s June 2nd. The data provided by Hartung has been analyzed, with AI modeling suggesting a sector with extensive ruins as a good starting point. Dirty Feet just got back from a down-and-dirty recon of the area. They prefer to be first in, no matter what. There was nothing of immediate interest, but they lofted a full box of sensor drones to begin the survey process.
It looks like they’ve hurried us up so we can wait here in the hot sun for a while. I’m not sure what the holdup is this time. What to do? How about I chat up the teams for a few?
There are so many new guys. Especially on GG, with all their casualties on Crimson, three of their guys infested of the Gall. From what I’ve seen, I like the new guys. Some of them are a little... different. A lot of people who grew up as the invasion generation, my generation, had been through a lot. Many joined the military to make sure that sort of thing never happens again. A lot of those guys are a bit... eccentric. They do fine in the psyc-evaluations. But the invasion changed them. There are a lot of coping mechanisms that manifest.
These days, Shockwave trains regularly with other SpecOps teams. Triples-training is the most common. For years now, our Triple has been Shockwave, GG, and Dirty Feet. I pay attention. It’s good to know the guys on whom your life depends. There’re guys like Rev, that you wonder about at first. He lost his whole family in the first invasion, though he won’t talk much about what happened. It definitely changed him.
Often, when you’re new to a team, your buddies pick your handle. It doesn’t matter if you came with your own handle, they’ll still bless you with a new one. At least that’s how they look at it.
When I first saw Rev in action, the name made sense. He’s a big guy, but super-fast. So, I thought, Rev, like rev your engine. But it wasn’t that simple. He tolerates the name, and I suppose he’s gotten used to it by now. At first, though, the name almost got him dumped from the team. It took four guys to hold him back when someone pushed the name a little too far and Rev decided to ‘come over and Rev you upside the head.’
After that display, he was stuck with Rev for good and always. You can be sure everyone will make sure of it. But he’s earned his place on the team with blood and sweat. Everyone respects him even though he’s a little... eccentric. It turns out, Rev is short for reverend. You know, like a minister, or whatever. Rev does get going with Bible talk whenever he has an opportunity. I love listening to him, actually. He does a good job.
What’s a little different about him, the eccentric part, is the way he talks in Elizabethan English, all the time. If you’ve read the King James version of the Bible, or Shakespeare, you know what I mean. I’m not sure if he has the dialect down exactly, but it sounds authentic enough to me.
After a quick consult with my AI, I suspect his psyc-eval includes the following. The consistent use of an antiquated dialect in the absence of cultural norms suggests a coping mechanism due to extreme trauma at an early age. Rev speaks in the language of a simpler era, yet a time that also witnessed unprecedented exploration, military exceptionalism, cultural advancement, and artistic expression.
That sounds about right. Rev, thy elegant speech troubleth me not. Anyway, let’s bring our focus back around, to Ahaam.
The name obviously has a connection with Kreahaam, which literally means, Those taken from Ahaam. Scotty got all worked-up when Tee asked him about his world of origin. Scotty has no idea where Ahaam is located. Bugs are not discouraged from remembering Ahaam. They even have temples of a sort, Domes of Ahaam, that serve as reminders of their past. But most of their history seems to have been scrubbed. And bug queens tended to focus on the future rather than the past.
The Domes of Ahaam have a characteristic appearance, though the size varies. They look like a disc that expands in size from the edges to the middle. In fact, I included a mission report in one of the Journals from the first invasion. A bug flier pilot mistook the radar rotodome on an AWACs as a Dome of Ahaam. The edge of a Dome is always tight, forcing bugs to crawl in on their bellies, though it is usually possible to stand upright in the middle.
In practice, the bugs crawl to the middle of the structure and then roll to their backs, in order to read the history of their people that’s etched on the ceiling. Of interest, bugs find it very uncomfortable, even painful, to lie on their backs for any length of time. In what seems an effort to draw out the painful ritual, the writing begins in the exact center of the dome ceiling and spirals out from there.
The text of the Domes tells of the destruction of their planet at the hands of angry gods when the people of Ahaam refused to serve them. There seems to be evidence suggesting the destruction took place close in time to their enslavement to the Primers, with the bugs being their first conquered people. Yet, bug history tells plainly of the Dahkoreen coming after the destruction of Ahaam, moving the survivors to another world, then forcing them to crew the fleets that moved out in search of planets to conquer. The bugs may have viewed the Dahkoreen as the saviors.
Connecting the dots, it was those gods they would not serve that destroyed their world and turned them over to the Dahkoreen. If this planet we are about to explore is actually the original Ahaam, archeologists should be able to develop a precise timeline, as well as uncover all sorts of historical information. I’m sure those of Kreahaam will be very interested in that adventure. But, first things first. Porting to Ahaam in 3, 2, 1...
Oh boy! If only I could think of something to say that dripped more with sarcasm. We’re here, on yet another gloomy planet, under another dwarf red star. Cold, dark, and creepy. At first look, it’s a lot like Kreahaam. The atmosphere is breathable, oxygen a little low. Bugs require more oxygen than humans, so things have changed here, if it’s their world of origin. There’s a nasty smell to the air due to a touch of sulfur dioxide. I’ll be wearing my rebreather, with a spearmint disc for good measure. The temperature is a little cool, not too bad.
We’re armed to the teeth, Tee with the .50 cal. draped over his shoulder. You won’t find me pushing him to modernize. That oldie-but-goodie has gotten us out of more than one jam. And I can recall only one time the gun itself jammed. The eerie ambiance of the place cries out for big guns. There may be monsters afoot, if the legends included with the information Hartung gave us have any basis in fact.
We’ve got a few jetpacks to push point if it comes to it, though the place seems quiet. A dead world. We’re going to head into the ruins with Dirty Feet. Lance Corporal John Martin, a GG guy, saw a glimmer in the distance. He will join his battle-buddy and two others to jet over for a look, while the rest of GG, who drew the shorts, will set up camp. At least they have a digger-bot to help with the latrines and field fortifications. I’m not sure where that came from.
Communal is on point as we move deeper into the ruins. His reaction time is amazing, as long as he has a QuIM connection. QuIM tech seems to have moved past the early days of data choke and glitch. I’m not going to lie, adding Communal’s brains and firepower to the team boosts me to my happy-place. And if things get kinetic, I’m won’t be shy at all about snuggling in to gain some energetic shielding. Okay, that’s not going to happen. It would restrict my field of fire. Nice thought, though.
This was once a very large city. So far it is difficult to determine the level of technology. The buildings were very sturdy and made of large stone block. It looks to me like they were blasted and then just crumbled from age. The whole place is in pretty bad shape, but I can definitely see a resemblance to the buildings on Kreahaam. I’m sure most of the city was built underground, so it may be better down below. Tee’s waving us over. We must have drifted too far apart. Why not just call... oh, comms are down, terrible static.
Tee looks a little jittery. “Let’s stay in line of sight, both teams, until the comms clear.
“Fierce, what’s with the comms, and what can we do to break through this static? I want to check on
Martin and his team.”
Fierce to the rescue. “I haven’t been able to source the noise. It started... five minutes ago, likely over an extensive area. If I can make contact with the survey drones, I’ll have more information. In the meantime, I can... just a sec. I’ll need another floater.
“That should do it. The floaters can lift these signal amplifiers. The jamming, or whatever it is, has a very high output, so the comms will be spotty, but I think we can make do. Otherwise, we’ll need to QuIM.”
The amplifiers have helped the comms, allowing us to hear GG Squad operative Martin shouting amid the whine-clap of a blaster, “No, no! What are you?”
Tee has pushed his Ivee team positioning display to a nanocloud to get a wider perspective. “This is Tee. Rodriquez and Johnson, approach Martin’s location from polar direction east, due caution. Hummel, move in from the south. Watch for us. We’ll be porting in, 100 meters south of Martin. Coordinate speed and approach. Weapons hot.”
“Roger that,” sounded three over the comms.
We’ve ported in. There’s Martin, sitting with his back to a boulder, knees up tight to his chest. I don’t see any threats, just a distant outcropping that’s badly charred. Martin is still firing. Blanks. His energy mag is empty, along with all the others scattered around him.
Tee commanded, “Jetpacks, do you see anything from up there?”
Rodriquez replied, “Got nothing, sir.”
Johnson and Hummel also call the area clear.
Tee is focusing on Martin. “Martin, cease fire... now. You’re shooting blanks. Martin!”
The shout got Martin’s attention, prompting him to lower his weapon, “It was there. Right there. Saw it. There. Blaster didn’t do nothing. Right there.”
Martin is shaking like a leaf. Rock is eying Martin’s blaster. So is Tee, as he nods an affirmative. Rock nudges Fierce and they move in quickly to snatch the blaster from Martin. Martin can reload an energy mag in a... snap... split second. Best be careful, in case he has one hidden in reserve.
Martin might be calming down, a little. “It was right there.” Then more quietly, “It was right there.”
I’ve joined Martin on the ground, crouching in front of him. “What was right there, Martin?”
Martin seems to be looking beyond me, still focusing on something in the distance. “You must have seen it. Big as a skyscraper. It saw me. That horrible eye. It was reaching for me, just like when I was a kid. Teeth bigger than me! It was going to take me. I knew it was going to take me. It IS going to take me.”
Martin is moving back toward hysterical. Now I’m starting to see things at the edge of my vision. Movement. But there’s nothing there. There goes the hair on the back of my neck. We need to get back to camp. Another brief shimmer to my right. Again. A shimmer and something beyond.
Communal has taken an interest. “I believe there is a failing energy shield. Sonics are also in use, just outside the normal human range. There are other sensory patterns that will require additional research. A tactical retreat is advised.”
After sending a couple of guys to set more perimeter sensor units, and then stand watch, Tee has taken an interest in Lance Corporal John Martin. “John, tell me what you meant when you said the monster was reaching for you, just like when you were a kid.”
Martin looks a little embarrassed. “Uhhh, about that, sir. I don’t know what to think.” Tee will sit quietly, waiting patiently, as long as it takes. “Well, sir, it was kind of rough sometimes, when I was a kid. Family stuff and such. I had a very active imagination as a child. There were times I had bad dreams. Nightmares. I had vivid daydreams too. A school shrink said I had maladaptive something-or-other.
“Anyway, in the nightmare I could feel the ground shaking with each step. That would get me running to the basement, to my room. There was an old wobbly desk I could climb on to look out the window, and watch the monster coming. Big as a skyscraper. It seems stupid, but I would always look. Don’t know why, because it was when I looked, that the monster always saw me, it’s eye would focus on me. Then it would come for me. Why didn’t I hide under the bed, or something? Every time, I would go to the window.”
Tee has a cup of coffee for Martin. “And what you saw, here, it’s the same monster?”
Martin has the cup, warming his hands. “Yes, sir. Exactly the same monster. And the same feeling of terror from my childhood, only stronger, if that’s possible. Especially as it reached for me.”
Tee hopes Communal has a solution. “What do you think about all this, Communal? Are we dealing with simple infrasound projections?”
Communal almost seems pensive. “I had a nightmare once, when one of my nodes was in repair mode. It must have been a stress release process and seemed to be related to the time when those federal agents raided my first real home away from the DARPA lab. Too much stress is unhealthy.
“Specific to the cause of John Martin’s hallucination. The cause is likely, as you say, the low frequency sound waves I detected. The projection system is not simple, however. There is a certain... sophistication to the projections.
“You will want to know if it can be countered. It can! While your comm-buds may suffice, I suggest you wear your headsets, at least when in proximity to the incident area. If I were you, I’d start wearing the headsets at all times.”
Tee agrees with the assessment. “You heard the... man. Headsets on. Do you copy, perimeter guard? Very good. I suggest everyone get some rest. We’ll have another look in... four hours.
After all the excitement, some shuteye is going to be tough. We need to think of other things.
Roddy has a smile going. “Nothing better than a cozy campfire, even if it is a holopic.”
Good job, Roddy. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen so many stars. What is that long wispy nebula called again?”
Rock knows. “That’s the Veil Nebula. Remnants of a supernova.”
It’s just like I remember it, from the space platform on Prime. “What are we, four lightyears from Prime? It looks exactly as I remember it when we were on the space platform there. The monsters on Prime looking up, right now, at the same sight, unaware that a hammer is about to come down on their head.”
Roddy likes the sound of that. “Hoorah! Bam!”
That enthusiastic burst woke Martin, a light sedative helping him to doze off for a few minutes. He looks a lot better.
The group is quieting down again, mesmerized by the beauty of the stars.
Martin looks like he wants to say something. “If you don’t mind my asking, why are you Shockwave guys always so, I don’t know, so calm and collected?”
That’s an interesting question. I’m not sure I’d use the term calm and collected to describe me. I’ll let someone else on the team handle that one.
Rev is shifting around to look at Martin. “Why, my friend, is that not as plain as the nose on your face? Well, mayhap more like the nose on Carter’s face?” That brought some laughs. “Verily, a connection with the Lord Almighty, do these possess. Methinks, tis true for all, yet only some do know it. Yea, er an awful tribulation, foul strain does beget, these rest in a peace that passeth understanding, a joy in the midst of trouble.
“Harken, my friend, for such peace is offered as well unto thee, upon that grand making of amends. Thou art bidden to surrender, if thou wilt, from thy rebellion against the Great King. For we have all rebelled and have gone our own way. Now, wherefore dost thou tarry? Soon enough it may be that thou shalt long for such peace. Who can know what the morrow may bring?”
Well, that was... interesting. Methinks, for the most part, tis true. Martin worries me, though. He looks so confused and disoriented. And tired. Maybe a little sleep with clear his mind.
***
We’re going to juice-it. We brought in a specialist to examine the concealment screen that hides the object that has piqued our interest. So far, only a tantalizing shadow has come into view when the stealth screen glitches. The specialist thinks she c
an short the shielding with a gigawatt zap.
The Allenmore Four should be porting in any time now, with the gigawatt cell. They’re top of the list on my growing Stomper sheet, unmatched in lift capability.
Even as they make preparations, I have a bad feeling about crashing the concealment screen. There goes Tee, let’s see if he can ease my mind.
I practically have to jog to keep up with him. “Tee, quick thought. What if the screen is actually a prison to hold something in, something made of energy maybe, rather than block scanning attempts?”
Tee shrugged. “We’ll be cautious, ready to port at a moment’s notice.”
And, he’s off and running. Literally. So much for my concern.
The concealment screen has a 300-meter radius. It’s set up to stop EM intrusion, not matter. A person could just walk through it. Carter volunteered to do just that. Communal’s wave-canceling program worked perfectly. Always a cautious bunch, we tied a rope around Carter and sent him in. He strolled past the screen perimeter and screamed. Or, yelped. Carter insists he yelped, as it would be quite unlike him to scream. I’m not going to lie. If it was me in there, I’d have screamed. I almost screamed while watching the event recorder.
The screen had some depth to it. As Carter moved past the perimeter, the light faded until it was pitch black. His Ivees pushed through the entire light spectrum trying to gain a glimpse of the surroundings. Nothing. Carter said he could feel the darkness crushing him, which brought him to a halt.
Then, terrible murky shapes appeared in the darkness, thick vapors of sickly green, yellow, and gray, coming up from a pit in the distance. The forms billowed into various shapes with grotesque faces coming and going, as though stretching against a thin plastic wrap. The vapors screamed back at Carter, slowly closing in, claws grasping. We pulled Carter back from the terrors of the abyss.
Here they are now, the Allenmore Four, with the gigawatt cell. Triplet brothers and an older sister. I wonder how rare it is to have triplets and a fourth fraternal sibling. No matter, minutes count in the birth order when you’re the big sister. It’s a good arrangement, don’t you think? Okay, I’m a big sister, so maybe my objectivity is questionable. Regardless, the Allenmores are a good team. They get along and know better than anyone their individual skillsets.
Invasion: Journal Three (Shockwave Book 3) Page 26