Star Splinter

by J G Cressey

  “Okay, let’s get this plan underway,” he said with a cheery confidence that he suspected, with the possible exception of Eddy, wasn’t fooling anyone.

  Cal had seen the craft briefly on his first visit to the hangar but hadn’t taken the time to study it closely. He’d never seen such a small, weird looking ship. Standing a mere ten feet high and being only four feet in width and depth, the Mosquito was most definitely a one-man craft. True to its name, it was bug-like in design—all bubble curves of smooth, dark metal. The tiny craft had been designed for the unique purpose of sneaking up on an enemy ship and scanning for the weakest area of its hull where it would attach itself. It would then utilize an incredibly powerful piercing needle to punch through the ship’s outer hull, allowing thousands of nano threads to wriggle their way in and begin extracting information from the ship’s systems or steal power from its energy reserves all the while going unnoticed.

  The Mosquito had not gone into production before the invasion had hit. In fact, the ship that Cal was about to climb into was really only a concept model. Kaia assured him, however, that the little craft had been tested to the hilt and had already been put to use on numerous occasions. It was the perfect ship for the job.

  The entire gang, Kaia included, was now huddled around the ship, looking a little on edge—all except Eddy, who just looked irritable.

  “You sure I can’t fit in there with you, Cal? What if you need backup?”

  “It’s okay, Eddy. I appreciate the offer, but I’ll be down and back again in no time. The enemy will be none the wiser.”

  “It should only take about half an hour for you to reach the surface,” Kaia said as Cal climbed into the snug, standing cockpit.

  “You won’t have to do a thing,” Viktor assured him. “I’ve programmed it to land behind a big bunch of rocks close to the northern end of the camp. There’s plenty of cover once you leave the ship’s cloaking net.”

  Cal nodded as numerous smart-straps snaked their way around him and secured him in place. Viktor held out his hand. “Here, Cal.” A small cube sat on his open palm.

  Cal took the cube and gave it a brief study. It was crafted from a copper-like metal’ and he was amused to see the words “Little Lock Pick” engraved into its topside. “Smaller than I thought.” It seemed that on this mission’ size really wasn’t everything.

  “It’s packed full of nano threads,” Viktor explained. “Before you enter the prison camp, just place it on any one of those posts emitting the energy force field. Don’t forget to pick it up again on your way back though. By then, it’ll have learned the best way to disable it.’

  Cal smiled at the boy’s confidence and placed the cube in his pocket.

  “Speaking of the force field, I think you’ll be needing these,” Jumper said as he brought over two large disks. They were made of black metal, not much more than an inch thick, and about two feet in circumference. “Two pop platforms as requested.” He slid them into the little space that remained at Cal’s feet.

  “Thanks,” Cal replied, suddenly wishing he’d spent a little more time practicing with them.

  “And these,” Kaia said as she passed him a few syringes filled with the bright green Xcel serum.

  Cal took them with a grin. “Feels like Christmas!”

  “Not much of a place to spend Christmas,” Kaia replied.

  Cal tried to shrug, but the smart-straps denied him the motion. “Perhaps we’ll have better luck next year.”

  Kaia smiled. “One other thing: I’ve been going through the SS recordings—”

  “SS?” Toker asked.

  “Don’t interrupt, idiot,” Viktor snapped.

  “Hey, bright spark, we’re not all tech geeks.”

  Kaia turned to the disgruntled Toker. “Sound Snatcher recordings. It’s similar to a visual zoom function on smart-glass, but it’s for audio instead of visuals. I’ve been collecting sound samples from the prison camp.”

  “You’ve discovered something?” Cal asked.

  “Yes, it might be of help. A man’s name keeps cropping up in conversations. It seems the other prisoners consider him a leader. It might be worthwhile trying to seek him out.”

  “Sounds sensible.”

  “He’s called Decker.”

  Cal’s eyes went wide, a wave of hope flooding through him. “Admiral James Decker?”

  “No…I don’t think so. As far as I can gather, his name is Laurence. Laurence Decker.”

  Cal’s heart sank, the flood of hope instantly draining away. “Laurence Decker. You’re sure?”

  “Pretty sure. You know him?”

  Cal nodded, trying to hide his disappointment. A leader. The situation must be more desperate than he thought.

  “The name keeps coming up time and time again. It sounds as though they really look up to him.”

  Surely, that couldn’t be right. Laurence Decker. The man was an incompetent idiot, not to mention a bona fide coward. If it had been his father… “Okay, thanks, Kaia. I’ll find him.” He dug his fingers into the fake beard and scratched. “So, I guess it’s time to blast me out of the cannon.”

  Kaia took a deep breath and gave him a confident smile. She was clearly doing her best to hide her nerves, and Cal was grateful for her efforts. “We’ll keep track of you visually and listen in with the Sound Snatcher as best we can.”

  Cal nodded. They had agreed to forego any short-range communications at this point to minimize the risk of detection.

  Toker casually ran a hand through his blond hair. “We’ll see you soon, Calie boy.”

  “Yeah, kick some arse, Cal,” Eddy added.

  “Hopefully, I won’t need to.”

  As the doors to the Mosquito slid closed, Cal stared at his friends old and new. Viktor wore a nervous smile that made him look younger than ever. Melinda stood tall behind him, a protective hand on his skinny shoulder. She seemed more human with each passing day. The ever-optimistic Toker was grinning with an enthusiastic thumbs up, while Eddy leaned against him as if he were merely a sturdy post. As always, the girl looked tough and at the same time incredibly fragile. Next to them stood Jumper, his oldest friend, steady as a rock and expression unreadable. And then there was Kaia, wearing a gentle smile full of encouragement and eyes bright with hope.

  The Mosquito’s doors sealed shut, and the tiny craft was maneuvered toward the airlock. He was about to be blasted down to an ominous prison planet occupied by an even more ominous alien race. Strange then that in that moment, he truly felt like a blessed man.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  EYE CONTACT

  With the dim lights lazily blinking around him, Cal found himself almost cozy within the Mosquito’s tiny cockpit. The soft hum of the engines was calming, and the flight was smooth. Only one small, circular viewing panel graced the craft’s compact hull, and through it, Cal could see a spinning array of distant stars. A cold vastness of deep space through which he slipped alone, cocooned in a small bubble of metal and glass. He knew the experience should be frightening, terrifying even, but it wasn’t. He had many fears, but this wasn’t one of them. It never had been. He closed his eyes and almost reveled in the moment of peace.

  Unfortunately, the peace was a short-lived as the entry into C9’s atmosphere caused the little craft to shake with increasing violence—an effect it seemed could never be avoided no matter how advanced the ship. When the shaking finally stopped, Cal took his cue to pull out one of the little glass syringes. He’d tried the Xcel serum many times now and, as always, its effect was close to instant; warm liquid energy, strengthening his muscles and focusing his mind. A perfect, God-given fuel.

  Cal felt the ship touch down on the planet surface. He took a moment to check his positioning on the cockpit screen then, releasing his restraining smart-straps, leaned forward to have a good, old-fashioned look out of the window. Even during the daylight hours, C9 was a dark planet: orange and red skies filled with streaks of volcanic ash clouds. As the little craft’s
doors bowed open, he was hit by a blast of hot, sulphur-infused air—fitting considering that the first thing his eyes focused on was the bright red magma of a distant, spewing volcano.

  Wasting little time, he snatched up the two pop platforms and maneuvered from the cockpit to step down onto the hard, jagged ground. The hot air swirled about him, random in its strength and direction as if confused by its purpose. Turning once to check that the Mosquito’s doors had closed behind him and that the craft was completely cloaked, Cal set off at a run. Thanks to the Xcel, he was swift and confident over the rough terrain, the two pop platforms feeling practically weightless tucked under his arm. Huge splinters of rock jutted out of the ground ahead of him like giant, black spearheads which, as Viktor had promised, offered him good cover as he sped towards the prison camp.

  As the camp came into view, he cracked a brief smile; the invaders had obviously reached a very high level of technological advancement, but mistakes were becoming more and more evident. The blue glow that emanated from the force field encircling the camp served no purpose other than to give those who might want to escape the benefit of the force field’s exact size and shape. Like the huge gleaming ships that sat in the distance, it was nothing more than a showy spectacle of their power and dominance.

  From his elevated position, Cal could see the countless human prisoners within the boundaries of the force field. Most were chipping away at the rock with crude mechanical tools and machinery while a handful of Carcarrion drones stalked amongst them, keeping a watchful eye. The mining machinery was definitely human by design, probably taken from one of the less-advanced fringe space mining colonies. Just as he’d seen from The Orillian’s observation deck, nearly all the activity within the camp was concentrated in its center while the areas nearer the ridiculous glowing force field remained blessedly unoccupied. The chances of entering the camp unseen were looking good. Spying the best spot for using the pop platforms, he set off again at a run.

  As he neared the blue, glowing barrier, which rose approximately twenty feet above him, Cal heard thumping pulse drills and screeching disc saws. The noise reminded him that he wasn’t all that far from the activity. Fortunately, the force field was transparent enough to reveal a scattering of tall rocks on the other side that offered a good amount of cover. The rocks had been one of two reasons for picking this particular spot, the second being that it put him in front of one of the tall poles responsible for emitting the force field. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out Viktor’s Little Lock Pick and touched it to the pole’s base. He hoped the boy’s confidence in the little cube was justified; their plan would break apart if the force field remained up.

  Setting one of the pop platforms on the ground six feet from the barrier, Cal stood on it and waited a few moments for it to calibrate his weight, topography of the ground, and the size of the force field itself. He doubted the machine would have much luck in reading the random gusts of wind, but nothing could be done about that now. Hugging the second pop platform to his chest, he crouched down and waited for the tiny green light to indicate that he was good to go. With the power of the Xcel serum coursing through his legs, he almost felt the pop platform wasn’t necessary. Perhaps an unrealistic expectation, but his enhanced muscles would at least make for a far easier and less painful landing.

  After one last check that no one was in view, Cal thrust himself upward. Reading the pressure applied through his feet, the pop platform added just enough aid at just the right angle to launch him up and over the twenty-foot barrier. Still holding the second pop platform to his chest, he performed a single, neat summersault, clearing the apex of the barrier by a good few feet before the inevitable fall. Despite nailing the landing, the sharp rocks cut deep into his knuckles and right knee. Ignoring the pain, he moved quickly to conceal the second pop platform. Satisfied he’d be able to find it again even in a hurry, he adopted his best casual stroll and headed towards the center of the camp.

  Cal didn’t have to walk far before he saw the first prisoners: ten men and three women. They were busily excavating a five-meter-wide trench, most of them operating disc saws while the remaining few manipulated clasper cranes to hoist the blocks of cut stone. He was relieved to see that they all looked healthy, well-fed, and strong. He was also glad to see he hadn’t overcooked the ragged uniform and the beard.

  As he neared the busy group, Cal became aware of a form moving in his peripheral vision, tall and dark against orange horizon. Forcing himself not to snap his head around, Cal attempted to retain his casual manner as he approached the group. Without missing a step, he strode directly up to one of the clasper arms of the nearest crane and began physically checking the support straps wrapped around a newly cut block of stone. The dark form was growing larger in the corner of his eye. He had no doubt it was a Carcarrion drone. He also had the distinct feeling that it was heading straight towards him. He looked at the prisoners. Despite one or two brief glances in his direction, they were paying him little attention. Either he’d succeeded in doing nothing particularly unusual, or they were being quick not to make his situation worse.

  Risking a casual glance, Cal confirmed his fears; the drone was heading straight for him. His heart began to thump, quicker and harder with each beat. Had he done something wrong? Something to make him stand out from the crowd? Or was he just paranoid? He had studied the birds-eye view of the camp for many hours from The Orillian and had discerned no particular patterns or organized teams within the mine. On the contrary, the prisoners seemed scattered rather haphazardly. What the hell am I doing wrong? With the Xcel bolstering his system, Cal knew he at least had a chance of defending himself, but it wasn’t just his own life at stake. Not by a long shot.

  He had a distinct feeling that the drone had come to a halt just a few meters behind him. He could feel its icy gaze boring into his back. Doing his best to act unawares, he continued to tug at the crane straps. Helping to maneuver the block onto the back of a hover crate, he even decided to shout out a few instructions to the machine’s operator. A couple of the other prisoners were looking at him now, anxiety clear on their faces. What the hell? He reached up and checked his beard; still in place. What was he doing wrong? Had he screwed up already? But surely if the game was up, he’d be feeling the force of those clawed fists by now.

  Seeming to attempt the same casual indifference as Cal himself, one of the female prisoners moved around the hover crate until she stood next to him. “What the hell are you doing?” she rasped under her breath.

  Good bloody question. He shot her a brief, confused look.

  “Turn around and look it in the eye, damn it.”

  Look it in the eye! Cal looked at the woman and took in the cocktail of emotions on her grubby face: fear, desperation, and more than a hint of bewilderment. Giving one last hard tug on one of the crane straps, he gave his right shoulder a stretch, looking behind him as he did so. Then he feigned a double take. The drone was indeed only a few meters behind him, standing statue still, its eyes directed at nobody but him.

  A chill ran down his spine. Deciding to trust the woman’s advice, he turned and forced himself to return the creature’s stare. His heart continued to hammer against his chest as the Carcarrion’s pale, unblinking eyes remained locked onto his. For a worrying moment, he considered whether these Insidions somehow had the ability to read minds. Fortunately, his seemingly unread mind was soon put at ease when, instead of lunging forward to tear his head off, the drone simply snarled in what might have even been some sort of smile and turned its attentions on another distant group of prisoners. Cal could just about make out the leach-like Insidion attached to the back of its neck as it strode away.

  “What the hell were you thinking?”

  Cal turned to the voice. The woman who’d offered him the advice was glaring at him in disbelief and annoyance. He raised an eyebrow “I wasn’t aware that a staring contest was necessary. Thanks for the tip.”

  The woman’s brow creased. “You bee
n hiding under one of these bloody great rocks or something?”

  “Something. What was that about anyway…the eyeballing?”

  The woman shook her head and turned back to the crane strap that she’d been unfastening. “Most think it’s their way of weeding out rebels. They study your eyes like some kind of lie detector. I guess you passed. God only knows how though. Even I can see you’re up to something.”

  “I need to find someone.”

  “Uh huh, and who would that be?”

  “Decker, Laurence Decker.”

  Cal saw the corners of the woman’s mouth twitch in response, a little smile quickly brought under control and replaced by a frown. Cal wondered whether the smile was one of respect and admiration towards the man or simply amusement at his idiocy. He hoped to God that it was the former but couldn’t help but suspect the man was still an idiot.

  “What business do you have with Decker?”

  “I have information he’ll want to hear.”

  “What makes you think he’ll want to hear it?”

  Cal sighed, getting a little annoyed himself. “I don’t think; I know.” He turned his green eyes on the woman, his expression stern. It was a look he’d used many times in the past to subdue the more troublesome soldiers under his command. On occasion, it worked. “I’m in a bit of a hurry here. Are you going to tell me or not?”

  Fortunately, she seemed to shrink a little under his gaze. “Over there,” she said reluctantly, turning and raising an arm. “Head over the ridge ‘til you get to the big mining belt that carries the cut rocks out of the camp. Decker will be at its loading end, somewhere near the engine room.”