by Marc Stevens
Tria gave me a quick nod.
“Be careful, it is still too early in the game to let the enemy know we are here,” she said.
She was stating the obvious, but I didn’t mind. I thought sure she would insist on coming with me. As second in command, she made the right decision. If I screwed up and got fragged, she could carry on the mission. Coonts huddled close to me.
“You take the right side, and I’ll take the left,” I told him. “Come up slow and easy. If you make contact, don’t start shooting unless you have to.”
He gave me a thumbs up and went to the right track. He waited until I gave the signal, and we used our gravity drives to slowly climb the fifteen feet to the back deck of the machine. Klutch was right: a large hatch was open on the rear deck. Coonts and I came from two different directions until we could look down into it. It was a missile magazine and was partially filled with thirty-foot-long blunt-ended black tubes. Now that we could see the back side of the turret, we could also see the four holes of the launcher. We didn’t see any hostiles, and the tank behind us covered a direct view of our location. I pulled a couple of grenades from my storage pouch and pointed into the far end of the magazine.
“Proximity, with remote detonation activated.”
Coonts nodded and climbed down into the well. I did the same and wedged one of my gifts under the business end of the weapons. Turning around, I put the other grenade in the launcher feed tube. Coonts crawled back out of the magazine, and we both dropped back down to the floor of the tunnel. We formed up with Tria and Klutch.
“We rigged the missile magazine to blow in case we need a good diversion,” I said. “Did you get a look out into the complex?”
Tria leaned in close. Our comms broadcasted on frequencies so low they would not carry beyond our position. If someone was actively searching for the communications, they would find us. But the chances were low that sensors of that nature were deployed inside the base.
“Not much to see from here,” she said. “A large crane is blocking our view of what lays beyond. We could use the crane to get a better look. The platform on the top would be a good hide.”
Klutch commed right back and pointed upward at the tank. “We should make sure this one cannot be used to block our exit.”
“Make it quick, Troop Master. We will be waiting for you. Coonts, cover him!”
They went back toward the front of the tank and boosted out of sight. We heard Klutch comment over our comms. He told Coonts to take the left one while he did the right. It did not take a genius to figure out they were spiking the projector tubes on the turret. Coonts called out he was done, but Klutch sent him a curt reply, stating more is always better. Coonts grumbled something under his breath, but I was sure he complied. They both dropped down from the front of the tank and rejoined us.
“Take point, Klutch. We want to get to the top of the crane carriage,” I said.
We watched Klutch’s avatar run out of the tunnel entrance and stop at the base of the crane’s support leg. He boosted up and over the edge of the carriage. We heard him let out a croak and something that sounded like “scat.”
“Commander, you better come and take a look,” Klutch said.
We hustled out to the support leg and glanced around. Machinery and stacks of parts surrounded us on all sides. We were in a machine assembly area. I boosted upward with Tria and Coonts right behind me. I landed on the edge of the carriage and saw the Troop Master laying prone and peering downward over the front of the platform. I got down on all four and crawled up next to him. If scat was indeed what he said, it was an understatement.
On the floor two hundred feet below us, were thousands of aliens of every description. The bluish-white electrical current we had witnessed on the Hivemind’s lifeboat danced among the metal protrusions sticking out of their bodies. The floors and walls around them were alive with the current, and it jumped to them from every direction. It was like watching an ant hive. The aliens were picking through a massive pile of debris. They selected pieces and parts, placed them on a conveyor, and went back for more. The conveyor moved the debris rapidly into a large separator that had chutes coming out of it in all directions. The chutes fed machines that produced the loud buzzing hum and grinding noises that permeated the complex.
It was no longer a myth cooked up to scare the lesser races. The Prule were active in our galaxy. If this evidence was not convincing, I didn’t know what could be more damning. The survivors of the battle to free our galaxy were not sitting idle. They were making preparations, and it didn’t look like it was for innocuous purposes.
“Commander, there is an atmospheric lock by the debris pile, and it is cycling,” Coonts called to me. I moved to his side.
He pointed to a spot on the far wall to the right of our position. About four hundred yards away, a red strobe light was flashing. It stopped, and a large hatch parted in the middle. Eight Hunters came through, followed by gravity sleds loaded with more debris. They dumped the sleds down a chute that carried the gathered booty to the massive pile being picked over by the reanimated beings. Although we had no idea where it went, we now had another exit to choose from if scat hit the fan. Tria was at my side and pointed out the Prule were actively salvaging the surface of the planet. Where they were doing it was a mystery. Justice did not detect any movement in the area, and the location of the air lock was not that far from where we made our insertion. That bit of intelligence meant there had to be tunnel networks that were shielded from detection. I guess the Prule had nothing better to do for more than a couple hundred years. It seemed logical to make their rebuilding efforts as covert as possible. The chances of being able to contact Justice would be slim to none. We needed to get our collected intelligence uploaded to the Legacy. If things went south on us, we would at least have some proof to show for it.
“Klutch, we are moving back to the tunnel entrance,” I said. “I want to send our data to the Legacy, and I don’t think I should try it from here.”
The Troop Master eased back from the edge, and dropped over the rear of the platform.
“All clear, Commander.”
We quickly joined him and ran underneath the parked tanks and back to the pressure door. I pointed at it and gave Klutch a nod. He put a portal in the same spot we entered through, and Tria, Coonts, and I exited the complex. Klutch stepped through seconds later and shut it down.
“Justice, do you have a copy?”
“Yes, Commander. Are you ready for extraction?”
“Not yet, Justice. Have you detected any movement top side?”
“Negative,” Justice replied. “I have made several excursions around the immediate area. My scans show no power sources or life forms. I have found nothing other than debris from starships and other vehicles strewn about the surface. Just east of your position is another large crater with a crashed spacecraft of unknown origin. The front half of the ship is buried, but the rear of the vessel is relatively intact. It would be worthy of investigation when your current mission is complete.”
That had to be where the Prule were gathering salvage. The ship’s hull was shielding them from detection. The only way to know for sure would be to go investigate, but at the moment, we had other plans.
“I want you to upload the data from our battle suits and give me an assessment as quickly as possible. We will hold our position until we hear from you.”
“Affirmative. Uploading now.”
We huddled against the pressure door to await Justice’s synopsis. He didn’t make us wait long.
“Commander, I will continue to examine the data but have found several interesting items worth noting. I have identified a new Prule asset working among the reanimated slaves. They are larger than Hunters and only have four legs instead of the six normally seen on the Prule we have encountered. They also have twelve upper appendages with multiple tools on each. I have singled them out on the frames of your video. They are maintaining the vast amount of machinery in this p
art of the complex. The next item of interest is the video of them picking up slaves that no longer appear to be moving and inserting additional conductors into them. Once they determine the proper number of conductors, they put the beings back on the work floor and the current reenergizes them. The final item in this briefing, is that everything processed in the lower machine complex is being piped through the wall into another part of the facility. If it does not expose you to additional hazard, it would be very desirable to see what they are doing with the refined materials.”
“Roger that. We are going back inside.”
I didn’t think it could be possible to expose ourselves to any more hazards than we already had. My grandparents had always said I was a curious child, and I lived up to that reputation all my life. It made sense to go back in and find out what the Prule were doing on the other side of the wall. Klutch made another portal, and a few seconds later, we were all sneaking back under the tanks. When we got to the crane, Klutch pointed to the myriad pipes and ductwork on the ceiling of the complex.
“Commander, we should work our way to the far wall by using the overhead piping as background cover,” Klutch suggested. “If a Hunter detects our cloaking systems, we can always attempt to hide in one of the ducts.”
It was as good a plan as any and should get us to the other side without interference from the activity below.
“We will follow your lead, Troop Master.”
We formed our combat diamond and boosted to the ceiling. We would be able to stay behind the piping in a few places but most of it was too small to give us cover. I was happy that Klutch didn’t like dicking around up here anymore than I did, so we moved along at a rapid pace. Our cloaking systems were doing the job, and the opposite side of the complex loomed in front of us. As much as I hated to admit it, I was feeling like things were going our way.
“Commander, two of the Prule maintenance machines are climbing the ramp leading to where the tanks are parked,” Coonts said.
I stopped and looked back across the complex. I magnified my view so I could determine what the Prule were up to. My HUD gave me a distance reading at just over a thousand yards. We had about two hundred to go to reach our destination. Coonts was right. The Prule were up in the assembly area and climbing aboard the tank that had the open missile hatch. I had a feeling, and it wasn’t pleasant. It was something akin to needing to use the bathroom really bad only to find somebody beat you to it. The crane boom swung around and moved over the tank. The feelings of dread were now being reinforced by the unsportsmanlike conduct of my bowels.
“Klutch, get to the wall and make a hole now!” I shouted.
The Troop Master had already surmised what was about to happen. He knew we needed to be someplace other than where we were. If the Prule removed those missiles, everybody on this side of the complex was about to have a bad day. The four of us braked hard with our gravity drives to keep from colliding with the wall. Klutch fumbled with the portal device’s buttons and projected a hole that immediately closed. Tria pushed him lower on the wall.
“Try again!” she shouted.
The second one was a good hole. That’s when a massive explosion detonated at the other end of the complex. Tria, Coonts, and I boosted hard through the portal. Klutch came barreling into us a second later. We crashed into the side of a structure and landed in a pile on a catwalk. Klutch managed to hit the right button as he fell, and the portal closed behind us. The shockwave from the blast bowed the wall we had passed through and fractured it like a jigsaw puzzle. The material chutes were blown off, sending their contents out like giant shotgun blasts. The facility shook hard enough to bring down the overhead pipework on top of us. The catwalk ripped loose from the structure we had landed on and sent us falling with the rest of the wreckage to the floor below.
24
Of all the scenarios I had thought of while booby trapping the tanks, what just happened had not been one of them. Doom on me! We were pinned up against a building structure with tons of busted crap on top of us. I could move my legs a little but not much. The commentary coming from my strike team made it clear they were not injured but were stuck under the debris as well. My helmet’s HUD showed their locations, and Klutch’s icon was beside mine. I could feel movement under me and assumed it was the Troop Master. I pushed my suit servos to their limits and managed to bend forward about a foot, which freed my arms. The movement under me increased, as did the swearing coming from Klutch. I started digging between my legs and uncovered the Troop Master’s faceplate. In the past when disaster struck, it was usually the Tibor’s ass sitting on me and not the other way around. The horrific look on his face implied I should in no way make light of the situation. Tria and Coonts were against the building when the catwalk collapsed. Their icons were above and left of Klutch’s and mine, with Coonts being the farthest up.
Coonts was the first to report he was making progress and managed to get his arms extricated and was working to free his torso. Tria’s icon was about two feet or so below him. The unladylike grunting coming from her comms channel let us know she was still in the same predicament as Klutch and I but was working on it.
“Commander, I need silence on the comms channel!” Coonts suddenly called out.
I was wondering what kind of calamity could possibly make our self-inflicted woes any worse than they already were. I cringed because I knew the sky was the limit when it came to pain and suffering. Considering where we were and what we would be held accountable for, things were unlikely to improve. We stopped struggling against the debris and stayed off the comms channel for what seemed like a long time.
“Commander, we are not the only ones trying to extricate themselves from the wreckage,” Coonts finally said. “I have movement from three different directions. One of the sound sources is coming from the building we are pinned against. If I had to speculate, I would say that something is trying to smash its way out!”
I sat still and increased the volume on my audio sensors. I picked up the telltale thumps coming from behind me. The last time I heard similar noises, it was a Prule Hunter wanting a piece of my ass for the mayhem I had caused. The odds were in favor of it being the same situation.
“Coonts! Get Tria dug out as fast as you can!”
“I am working on it, Commander!” Coonts shouted.
I started thrashing around until my servos were giving me stress warnings in my HUD. I must not have been doing Klutch any favors because his vocabulary digressed to unfiltered profanity. He called to me in a voice I could tell was straining for control.
“Commander, I would really appreciate it if you would stop what you are doing! I have managed to roll on my side and am going to trigger the portal device. If you continue to push more debris down on me, I might inadvertently miss my intended target and send you lower torso to another dimension.”
I had to give him credit: it was succinct and to the point without a lot of overtones suggesting disrespect. Not wanting to lose any of the body parts I actually enjoyed using, I quickly answered.
“Roger that, Troop Master. Please carry on!”
I heard some more strained grunting and felt the debris under me shift a little more.
“I am ready, Commander,” Klutch said. “Triggering in three, two, one!”
I suddenly found myself falling down and sideway in a rush of wreckage. The next thing I knew, I was sprawled out in a pile of debris with the Troop Master across the room from me. He got a good portal on the side of the building we were pinned against, and we fell through the opening. We were now inside a room filled with machinery. My maker must have decided that my freedom from the trash pile would be my only acorn for the day. My sudden stop was accompanied by something pushing me aside. We were not alone. I tried to get my feet under me but was jerked off the floor by one of the four-legged Prule maintenance machines. It started smashing electrodes into my armor. The sharply spiked tips were breaking off or bending with each blow. That didn’t deter it from tr
ying to get another one into me and only convinced it to strike harder. I got a grip on two of the arms and was trying my best to rip them from the bio machine. It had ten more, and they were all pummeling me with spikes or tools.
“Commander, I have freed Tria’s arms and should have her extricated shortly,” Coonts called.
My vision was blurring from the heavy shots I was taking to my helmet. I wanted to answer Coonts but didn’t think any response I might have made would be coherent. I was, however, going to make an effort to call Klutch and ask why he was not doing something about the ass kicking I was getting. Before I could grunt out a rational request for help, rapid fire blasts from the Troop Master’s shotgun disabled two of the machine’s legs. It pitched forward onto the floor, but not before it unceremoniously threw me into a wall. I fell to the floor with the beast in me screaming out to use my beam weapon. I sat up and was seriously giving the idea some thought but saw the Troop Master was standing over the flailing bio machine, putting shot after shot into it. When it finally went still, Klutch gave it another half of a magazine of penetrator slugs. More was always better, and he took that motto seriously. He ruptured a fluid reservoir on the bottom of the bio machine’s torso, splattering us with a brackish substance that had the consistency of jelly. If it was the biomass the machine sustained its inner being with, then Klutch had revealed a weakness we could use to our advantage. Tria called over the group comms and the urgency in her voice said things outside were not going well.