by T. R. Harris
“I said I was in; what more do you want, a signed affidavit?”
“Good,” Adam said. “You say you have a ship.”
“I do. She’s nothing to look at but reliable. Been through the Shield more times than I can count. You say you have two others? What make?”
“We don’t know yet. They’re back at the spaceport.”
“Probably those slow-ass Borin-Noc pieces of crap PA uses around here. You can add another day of transit time with them in tow.”
“Can you get us through the Shield at the closest point to Olypon?” Riyad asked. “We don’t want to be in the Void any longer than necessary.”
“Yeah, I know a spot,” Pitts growled. He didn’t talk like normal people. It was either a bark, a spit, a growl or a groan. He would take some getting used to. “Should be a couple of mil out from the system. But even then, our gravity drives would have to be some of the shallowest. There’s not a lot of traffic there, we’ll be noticed.”
“When was the last time you were there?”
“Six weeks ago, maybe a little more.” Monty shrugged. “Even then I was sensing a change. They didn’t seem that anxious to schedule another delivery. Usually I couldn’t make the runs fast enough.”
“They were anticipating making the link to the other dimension,” Coop said.
“Yeah, whatever.” Monty shook his head. “I heard all about those Sol-Kor creatures and how they came from another universe. That is some wild-ass shit, if you ask me. That’s really possible?”
Riyad clasped the man’s thick forearm. “It is, and if you stick with us, my friend, then you’ll see more than your fair share of wild-ass shit.”
Monty Pitts didn’t see the humor or sense of adventure in the statement. Instead he glared at the three Humans seated around the table. “That’s what I’m afraid of. You people are bat-shit crazy.”
Adam smiled. “And you’ll fit right in. Welcome to the team, Master Chief Monty Pitts.”
Monty’s ship was in the southern spaceport, along with the Davion and the two ships from PA. Since Sherri would be leaving soon in the Klin flying saucer, the team decided to set up camp in Pitt’s ship. It was larger than the Priority vessels, with supposedly more room.
That was a miscalculation on their part.
“Hey…I’m a bachelor. I don’t get too many visitors.” Monty said as they stepped through the side entry hatch into a jungle of stacked boxes, strewn about clothing and discarded food trays. And the place stank worse than anything alien Adam had encountered. “Just toss anything on the deck to make room.”
“How about out the hatch; I can’t even see the deck,” Copernicus whispered.
Monty heard him. “If I’d knew Architectural Digest was going to do a photoshoot of my place, I would have cleaned up…a little. Other than that, bite me.”
The team forced their way through the clutter on the way to the bridge. At least this was a little cleaner, although the smell still lingered.
“So, what’s the plan?” Monty asked as he plopped down in the worn leather pilots seat and placed his legs on a neighboring console.
Tidus was with the mercenaries, checking out the other two ships of their tiny strike force, so it was only the Humans aboard.
“Nothing fancy,” Adam said. He chose to lean against a station rather than sit in a chair. There was no telling what that brown stain was on the seat. “We damaged the tower array on our way out of the system, but the control building needs to be taken out. It’s pretty big and flanked by a pair of generator buildings. They have considerable defenses in place. With us having made our way out, the Olypon will be on guard for something like this, especially since the Earth made contact with them. They have to know we’ve warned them about the array. Because of that, I don’t think another aerial attack will be possible. We’ll have to land somewhere nearby and make our way across land.”
“The atmosphere on Mon-Sim is too thin for us to breathe,” Monty pointed out. “We’ll have to wear spacesuits, but the lighter gravity will help us make it across country. What are you going to use the aliens for?”
“We’ll need covering units. We have to set explosives—”
“An RPG attack?” Monty asked.
“Probably not strong enough to penetrate the walls.” Adam motioned at the other Humans in the room. “We’ve all been there. The place is built like a bunker, and it is in a hostile environment with a lot of radiation. It’s tough. We’re going to have to make it inside and lay charges.”
“Have any of you had experience with that kind of stuff?”
Adam, Copernicus and Riyad all raised their hands.
Monty laughed. “Then I’m in good company.”
“And once we do that,” Adam continued, “we need a plan for exfil. I don’t want this to be a suicide mission. That’s where the mercs will come in handy. The other problem is the place will be crawling with Olypon, both security personnel, as well as repair crews. We couldn’t have picked a worst time to make an assault, but we don’t have a choice.”
“I have an idea,” Riyad said. “Since we have Monty’s ship as a third vessel, we could use one of the PA ships as a flying bomb. Set a remote and let it go, either as a diversion or as a missile to strike the towers.”
Adam laughed. “Tidus won’t like that; I’m sure he’s expecting to get his deposit back. But I like it. Coop, can you rig a remote?”
“Piece of cake. But where are we going to get the explosives? We’re just about out of money.”
Monty snorted. “I said I did a little mining. I have half a ton of alien bang-bang powder in the back. That should be enough.”
“Will it work in a low oxygen atmosphere?”
“Yeah, this stuff is designed to go off in space. It won’t be a problem.”
“Cool,” Adam said. “Let’s not tell Tidus about that part of the plan until we have to. I’m sure he’ll try to talk us out of it.”
Monty surveyed the faces of his fellow Humans. “You guys sure are a bunch of scoundrels. I like it.”
“What’s that smell?” Sherri asked when Adam returned to the Davion to check on the preparations for departure.
“A little residual from Pitts’ ship.”
“You sure about him? I want to meet him before we leave, just to make sure he’s a gentleman of impeccable character.”
“I’ll save you the time…he isn’t.”
Sherri was feverishly getting the ship ready; the sooner she and Arieel left, the sooner they would get to Formil and she could get back in the fight. Kaylor and Jym had come through, having found a secret Klin route through the Galactic Core. It would be dangerous for a part of the trip, but it would get them to Formil in only twenty-one days. Sherri had already sweet-talked another fuel module from the crew of a neighboring bulk freighter. She didn’t go into details how she did it, but it was for no cost, so Adam couldn’t complain, although he knew there was nothing sweet about how she got it. Adam hadn’t seen any of the crewmembers since she left the freighter. Hopefully the team would be off the planet by the time the bodies were discovered….
Coop, Riyad and Tidus were in the process of transferring all the weapons and battery packs they had to the other ships, as well as grabbing their personal gear. It could be several months before they met up again, if even then. Copernicus and Sherri were trying to be strong. They had been an item for a while now, and the uncertainty of the mission—both ends of it—was weighing on them. But it was particularly hard on Sherri. Over the years, she’d had intimate relationships with all three of the men, even marrying one of them. Now she fought hard against her imagination, keeping the what ifs at bay, at least on the surface.
But it all came to a head when the last of the gear was moved out. There was nothing left except the good-byes.
Arieel was an emotional wreck—which wasn’t anything new. She sobbed, slobbered and wailed while making her rounds—even hugging the towering Juirean. She saved the last embrace for Adam. Finally, she broke away and
ran into the Davion.
Sherri’s eyes were moist, but she refused to cry. “This is only temporary,” she stated in a trembling voice. “You know I’m taking an awful chance here, that you won’t go and get yourselves killed. Just let it be known, if you do, you’ll have to answer to me. And you think Hell will be bad. Just wait until I get a hold of you.”
She hugged each in turn, saving Adam for last; they had the longest history together. “Take care of my boys, will you?” she asked. “Get them back to me in one piece.”
“Will do, sweetie. Just a walk in the park.”
Sherri bit her bottom lip, took another look along the line of glassy-eyed males, and then turned and entered the support pedestal for the flying saucer. She made her way to the bridge, checking the exterior cameras as the men moved away quickly, clearing the liftoff blast radius. Arieel was seated at the console.
“Will we ever see them again?” she asked.
“No doubt,” Sherri answered. “It will take more than a three-billion-year-old crazed alien to stop Adam Cain and his gang of misfits. I’m just pissed off because I won’t be around to see them kick Kracion’s Aris ass.”
113
The five mercenaries had their own weapons and spacesuits, along with a modest supply of power packs. Tidus paid the PA supervisor the balance of the contract and then spent the last money they had on back-up power packs and a dozen small packet-bombs he found at a local mining supply shop. The inhabitants of Vadon were pretty open about such things and didn’t give him a second glance.
While Tidus would pilot one of the Borin-Noc vessels, along with a crew made up of the Rigorian, a creature called a Flin and one of the long-armed natives, Copernicus would command the second PA vessel, along with the other two mercs. Each ship was compact, made up of only a series of sleeping bunks along the narrow spine corridor, a galley, the bridge and rear airlock. There was no shuttle. The ship was designed to grapple chunks of space debris or gas pods for transport back to a planet. They weren’t designed for long-term habitation.
Coop had to rig his ship for remote control and detonation, having moved a fair amount of the explosives to a holding chamber off the airlock. He figured he’d have to tell the crew about his plans at some point; they were fairly intelligent and experienced warriors of two different species. They would know something was up.
Adam and Riyad would be in Monty’s ship.
After surrendering to peer pressure, the master chief allowed the other two Humans to dump a staggering amount of trash out the rear landing bay. Once the ship was cleared of the clutter it wasn’t half bad, except for the residual smell, but after an hour or so, they got used to it.
Pitts’ ship was a mule-hauler, similar to Kaylor and Jym’s old FS-475, but about a third of the size. He’d named it the Mustang Sally. It had only a single level, a docking bay with a two-person shuttle and a pair of compact cargo holds on the exterior of the dual generator rooms. As with most muleships, it had ample power, designed to tow long strings of cargo pods from port to port. Without the pods, it was a literal monster truck in space.
“It will take three days to reach the transit point through the Shield,” Monty informed them. “I’ll grapple the PA ships to save their fuel. Besides, it will be faster that way.”
“Good. How well do you know Mon-Sim?” Adam asked.
“Not much at all. There’s nothing there, or at least there wasn’t until recently. I would just make runs to Olypon, drop off my cargo and then leave.”
“How about when you were stranded on Olypon after the battle of the Dysion Void?” Riyad asked.
“That was a long time ago. All I can say is the Olys were enthusiastic followers of the Klin, although after the silver-skinned bastards left the planet, the natives did all they could to disavow them, thinking they were next in line to be crushed by the allies. They treated me and the rest of the stranded Humans like VIPs, not wanting to piss us off. That’s when I developed my first contacts among the natives. In spite of that, I’m surprised we didn’t make an attempt to strike the planet.”
“The Kracori were our main target…and the Klin in their Colony Ships. By then only a few Klin remained on Olypon and when they left, it wasn’t worth the trouble to attack another world in the system, especially one without a military,” Adam explained.
“Besides, you were busy rescuing me from an Elision prison,” said Riyad, flashing his trademark white smile.
“Yeah, that was something we were obligated to do, although it wasn’t a priority,” Adam said sardonically.
“Thanks for that, dickhead.”
Adam returned a wry grin. “I tried to find anything about Mon-Sim in the Library, but there’s no mention of it. All we have to go by is our brief visit there. We didn’t get a good look inside the facility. Coop worked with Panur and Lila for a while as they were working on the array, but then he gave up and returned to the Davion. We spent most of our time inside the saucer.”
“Then we’ll have to wing it,” Monty said. “If what you say about the place being crowded is true, we may have to do a hostile takeover and then use the mercs to help get us out, holding them in reserve until needed. The Olys may figure we’re all there is and leave their asses uncovered as they come for us.”
“Once the bombs go off, there should be plenty of confusion; that will help,” said Riyad.
Adam nodded. “I’ll get on a conference link with Tidus and Coop and figure out the details.”
Three days later the trio of starships looked microscopically small against the vast wonder that was the outer wall of the Dysion Shield. The nebula extended two light-years from top to bottom at this point, appearing as a swirling mass of matter and energy which disrupted electronic probes to see beyond the turbulence. Only foreknowledge of what lay on the other side told them of the void area hidden within. To everyone else, it was a semi-solid accumulation of stellar debris unimaginably expansive and dense.
“So how do we get through that?” Riyad asked, staring out the forward viewport. He’d made two other treks through the Shield in the past, once twelve years ago with his guides Ruszel and Cano, and then recently with the help of merging blackholes. His first passage had been nuanced and skilled; the second the result of brut, gravitational forces.
Monty smiled. He had a link opened with the other two ships, the worried faces of Tidus and Copernicus displayed on small side monitors at his pilot station.
“The key is less, not more,” he announced cryptically. “We go in on chem drive only. Although gravity drives—even shallow ones—can clear out some of the matter in front of us, they also draw in crap from all around. It becomes a lose-lose situation where enough matter can’t be cleared before more comes crashing in on us. So, we use the reactive jets to weave our way through. The nebula isn’t uniform. There are dense areas and thinner regions. This is a thinner section. I’ve gone this way a dozen times before. Sure, things are always changing, but each passageway is good for a while before things shift.”
“Well, here’s hoping things haven’t shifted too much,” said Coop through the link.
“I’ll lead the way,” Monty said. “It may get a little warm behind me as you guys eat my exhaust. But at least you’ll be able to stay closer than you could under gravity drive. The Shield is about two hundred thousand miles thick at this point. Unfortunately, we will be creeping along, so it will still take several hours to make the transit. Coop, Tidus, keep a sharp look out on your flanks. That’s where the danger will come. The path forward should be clear, but it’s the shit flying it from the sides we have to watch out for.”
“Sounds like fun,” Coop said with bravado. He had a wealth of experience flying and repairing just about every type of starship in the galaxy, so he was up for the challenge.
Adam looked at Tidus. The Juirean’s face was a study in stone, making his emotions impossible to read. “You okay, Tidus?”
“Yes…but please take care of the ships. They are expensive.”<
br />
Adam smiled. So, it wasn’t the transit that had the alien worried; it was his deposit.
Adam shared a knowing look with Copernicus, then he shrugged. “If there’s nothing else, then let’s get this show on the road. It’s all yours, master chief.”
The initial foray into the nebula was anticlimactic. The outer layer of gas—although dark and foreboding—was relatively thin. The ships, running in single file on thin trails of blue, ionized chemical propellant, were able to pass through the diaphanous cloud with ease. They didn’t bother to raise their shields—they were only effective against charged energy bolts. In normal running, the ship was protected from forward collisions by the series of microscopic black holes forming ahead of it. Most chem drive operations were for landings and takeoffs, as well as maneuvering close to other vessels or space stations. This was different. Even at the relative low velocity they were going, any gravel-size bit of space debris could damage the ship. Now they were essentially going supersonic through a sandstorm, multiplying the effect of the tiny collisions on their hulls.
Simple radar was Pitts’ greatest tool, scanning for the thinner sections of the Shield. The course was erratic and abrupt, sometimes making forty-degree changes in the blink of an eye. The inertia compensators were on and helped alleviate the more nauseous effects of the course changes, but they couldn’t overcome the wild scene through the viewport. After a few minutes, Adam looked away and concentrated instead on Monty’s radar screen. At least it provided a more static view of the area.
“Oh crap!” Adam heard Copernicus say over the still-open comm. Long-range cameras on the aft section of the Sally showed a real-time view of the other two ships behind them. Coop’s ship was veering off course. Not only that, it was twirling.
“We took a pretty good bump to our ass,” he reported. “Luckily, it came in obliquely so the damage is minimal, but it did send us spinning.” Tiny maneuvering jets were flaring from the sides of the small mining vessel. Coop’s piloting skills were being tested, and in a moment he was straightened out and back in line, although now behind Tidus.