The tower base was stone, although sanded smooth and reinforced from the inside to be airtight, but obviously not state-of-the-art. Most of the upper layers had collapsed but he did see a single round airlock facing the ledge on which they were now standing. It had been heavily damaged in the bombardment to the point of being open and nearly falling off.
Before the soldiers even made it up, Scott drew his rifle and checked the door, sweeping from corner to corner inside. The inner door was breached like the outer with a few filtered reflections of sunlight making it through the smoke and piles of debris. As before, he unslung the scanner, activated it and set it by the door while it established a local bearing.
Opposite the inner hatch was a short flight of steep steps which wrapped around the outside of the structure. Multiple large pieces of equipment were evident as well as a line of cargo crates. Interestingly, they were all larger than the hatch.
To the center, Scott spied three forms on the floor, which he hypothesized were the installation’s operators. Whatever they were, they didn’t appear to be the same species as what they had found thus far. They were smaller, to the point of appearing frail, and missing the bulk of combat armor. From their positioning, they fled their posts when the building ruptured. Scott looked about as he passed them by, unsure where they were attempting to evacuate to but it was obvious the creatures weren’t prepared to deal with the atmosphere without protection.
The inner circular room within the structure housed a number of screens, now unpowered, but appeared to be the operations center for the defenses. Smoke hung low in the air as if only moments prior a raging electrical fire had broken out, only to be extinguished by the lack of oxygen. Before going farther, Scott retrieved the scanner once more and dropped it at the entrance, in case anything of value was still accessible.
He followed the circular hallway down another story and instantly spotted a round platform in the center of the open room, surrounded by dim blue lights built into the floor below. Scott checked the corners again and cautiously crept around the edge. Whatever the object was, it looked to still be powered.
“Hotel Team!” He radioed back to the soldiers on the surface, “I might have something here. Follow the hall to the right down two floors.” They passed in the corridor outside as Scott made his way up to retrieve the scanner.
“Where do you need us?” O’Hare asked the engineer.
“The room below is still powered up and I think the center might be an elevator. Make sure nothing tries to come up.”
O’Hare nodded, “Can do. Anything uninvited will be in for a surprise.”
Scott continued back to the surface, passed by the command center and spied a beam of light making its way through the twisted wreckage above. He thought the hallway to the left was impassable but on closer inspection he found a small space still open.
He crawled over the broken pieces of the turret that had fallen out of place and up to a small overlook near the top of the remaining structure which was open to the sky above. From the position Scott saw a grand sight. To the south, the endless mid-plate mountain range stretching off to nothing, between absorbed by the distance and the thick air on all sides. Smoke coiled from several more towers that Othello had already engaged and destroyed, adding columns of black soot against the sickening field of yellow.
To the east, he finally had a good view of their target. The ridge swept between horizons, still undisturbed by the assault. This high up Scott could see down through the thicker atmosphere in the valley and to the metal structures built against the stone walls, obviously closing off the alien base. For him, it was the first proof that there was something here other than a series of derelict defensive towers designed to engage any ship unfortunate enough to venture close to the planet.
He thought about it and removed the Lyran rifle from his shoulder. Even a ruse wouldn’t be a terrible strategy if you had infinite time and resources. It’d certainly grind through your enemies as they scoured planets covered with nothing more than networks of defensive weapons.
Looking down the scope of the rifle, he could see a more densely populated cluster of towers prepared to protect the target from whatever Grant had in store for them. He watched as several of their barrels slew in his direction and pause in position. His heart froze.
Without hesitation Scott pushed himself back from his perch as he saw a flash of light from the center turret. The first round ripped through the ground-up remains of the tower beside him in a deafening explosion of stone and jagged metal. He fell, hoping for gravity to pull him safely away from harm, while wrapping his arms around his face for what limited protection they could provide.
Scott instead landed hard on the mountain of debris a few meters below. He turned and attempted to crawl back as additional towers joined the chorus, pounding holes through on every side and above as he tried to escape. Tumbling down the corridor on hands and knees, he finally reached the clearing by the airlock when another blast sliced through above his head. His visor blurred with another hit which sent more bits of stone and metal raining onto him.
The shock sent Scott flat to his stomach again, further obscuring his view and catching him by surprise when a piece of the armored plating broke free and landed across his back, pinning him to the floor. He cried out in pain but the armor held together, maintaining its integrity and holding a boundary between him and the corroding environment only millimeters away.
“What the hell’s going on?” O’Hare radioed back to him.
“They’re shooting! They’re shooting from the ridge! I’m stuck!” he yelled, thrashing around to get any leverage he could against the metal beam.
“Hold on, we’ll be right there!”
“No!” Scott shouted back, “Don’t risk it. I’ll get out!” he added as another shot drilled through the tower, dislodging the bar of metal by a few hairs, enough for him to shift his weight.
He got one foot out and pressed back against the beam with all his might to wrench his trailing foot free. It came loose and he rolled forward again, down the first few clear steps across from the hatch. Scott kept his stomach to the ground and pushed forward, staying as low as he could while trying to avoid more dislodged bits of the structure.
Scott made it only another meter when a blast struck beside him across from the rock wall. The concussive shock slammed his head inside the helmet and sheared the metal stairs from the barricade. He fell weightlessly for a second before smashing hard into the floor. Looking up, Scott saw double, with the entrance to the command center only a few steps ahead.
Diving inside, Scott found his scanner, clamped it against his chest and bounded down the rest of the stairs, hardly being able to see but riding the wall to keep him moving in the right direction. On the elevator landing, his fire team had pulled back to the far corner, trying to avoid the falling stone.
“What the shit did you do?” O’Hare yelled across as the engineer staggered and sprinted back towards them.
“No idea but they saw me! Get on the platform!” he shouted back and jumped the railing to the dais, tripping on the railing and falling to his face.
The soldiers followed, hopping on behind him and Scott took a chance, mashing the lowest button on a control panel attached to the base. The platform instantly responded, giving out beneath their feet and dropping straight into the ground. The group huddled at the center, the soldiers with their weapons out in preparation for the worst.
Thin rings of light zipped by every second as they descended downward, the only light being a bright flash from the tower above. Stone and metal rained from the sky as more of the tower collapsed under the Cygnans’ onslaught.
“Where’s this thing taking us?” O’Hare shouted over the rush of moving air outside their helmets.
“I don’t know.” Scott responded breathlessly, “We’ve got to be going under the mountain range.” he lay frozen on the deck, with his rifle pointed at his quarter of the room for what felt like several minu
tes before he noticed each row of lights begin to pass farther apart. “I think we’re slowing down. Look sharp!”
Scott gripped his rifle tighter as the platform slowed to a halt, stopping on a similar platform in a dimly lit room. Circular airlocks were installed on multiple walls around them, suggesting the installation spread out in all four cardinal directions.
“Now what?”
“Hold on.” Scott mumbled, turning over the scanner and flipping it back on. “Before we roll out blindly, let’s see if we can figure out where we are.”
***
Far to the south, the rest of Third Battalion crossed over their high mountain pass into the eastern foothills. From there Othello split their column, with half keeping an eye on the alien base across the range while the rest continued along to clean out the last of the remaining towers.
“Can you see any movement?”
“Negative,” the intelligence officer onboard the leading Patriot reported back, “The burned-out tower just got lit the hell up. There’s nothing moving out there.”
“I dropped three soldiers plus Mr. Ryan back on the western slope of the formation. Is there any sign of them? Anything at all?”
“I’m sorry, sir. We’ll keep looking.”
Othello slammed his fists against the console before him, trying to contain the mix of rage and rising guilt. The soldiers were only on the ground a few minutes before losing all radio contact then, out of nowhere, they had turrets on the far rim pounding them into dust. He hoped whatever Scott had planned was worth it and that his drive if not his combat experience would pull them through. If not, it’d be difficult for him to bear, to say the least.
Across from them, far to the south he could see the rising smoke from the first of Mason’s targets on the ridge. If nothing else Fourth Battalion was on schedule without any major screw-ups.
He shook it off. There was no sense in delaying the inevitable so he keyed his radio. “Commander Grant, I might have some bad news.”
“O, what’s that?
Othello took a deep breath. “I’ve lost contact with Scott Ryan and Sergeant O’Hare on the ground.”
“What? How?” Grant snapped, instantly feeling the walls of the command deck close in around him.
“They were going to inspect the remains of the first tower we took down. Radio contact dropped out for them on the way out and the Patriot reports the site just got pulverized by the facing turrets.”
The commander sank back with the words as they intermixed with the last conversation he had with the engineer the day before. “Listen, before we leave, dead or alive, we are going to find them. I don’t care if we have to police the entire basin on foot. Do I make myself clear?”
“Absolutely. I’m so sorry; I shouldn’t have let them go.”
“Save it for the Cygnans.” Grant replied, “They’ll pay for them all. Every single one.” Grant looked up at the alien base at the extreme limit of his vision. Only seconds ago, he was ready for the assault. Now, he couldn’t wait. It was not about to end well for anyone who stood in his way.
***
The minute screen provided little definition in the layout of the station, but as far as Scott was concerned it was better than nothing.
“Seriously, that’s it? All it shows is four lines.” O’Hare remarked, looking over the engineer’s shoulder.
“It’s more than what we had before. Since we’re underground it picked up a little more distance but if you want more you can run back outside and drag up a full size scanner.” Scott’s surging adrenaline got the better of his normally reserved demeanor. “We know they have airlocks in every direction so they’re probably sealed tight by now to keep the atmosphere out. I say we move towards the objective.” Scott said and pressed the largest button on the eastern wall to no effect. “Locked.”
O’Hare shook his head. “It’s only partially locked.” He replied and placed an explosive charge above the main latch. “Back up.” The sergeant added as the team pulled back to the far edge of the room. With a sharp crack, the charge detonated, shearing away the hardened metal supports and blowing the door open and half off its hinges.
The shock was not only enough to clear the front airlock but also gave a sufficient jolt to the inner door a few meters beyond; enough to weaken the seal and cause it to be forced open as well. Thick smoke from the blast mixed with the atmosphere as the poisonous vapor forced itself into the enclosed space, replacing the lighter air below like a punctured can held deep underwater.
“That’ll get their attention.” Scott remarked as the team got back to their feet and O’Hare cautiously got a look down the next passage.
“The hall’s dark. No contact in sight, five to ten degree downward slope.”
Scott moved forward, still hearing the dull rush of exchanging air and checked the scanner. As O’Hare had noted, the corridor ahead was devoid of anything living or dead but without any useful cover to speak of either. He carefully stepped over the thresholds around the airlock and led the team down into the darkness, illuminated only by the compensation inside their armored suits.
27
Grant looked around the command deck of the close-quarters suppression tank as his crew donned their rebreathing systems in case of a hull breach. Together they lined up far out on the mid-basin between the dwindling foothills behind them and the gargantuan cliff to their front. Out of sight but far to the south, Othello’s battalion lined up in similar fashion while the final Cygnan towers stood defiant above them on the peak of the outcropping, daring anyone to make a step closer. More than that, he could now see the metal walls of the aliens’ base tucked deep below ground level and far away from their piercing, all-seeing eyes in the sky.
Their own eyes in the sky had cut their distance now that most of the defenses were down; the Patriots took up a very low orbit to provide quicker assistance in the eventuality that everything went to hell. More than that, if the ground was completely clear they could also provide quick access to reinforcements.
The eastern cliff jutted high in the air as a testament to the planet’s history involving the unrelenting forces of gravity, tides, and tectonics. They culminated in the sheer rock wall of the continental divide being pushed multiple kilometers into the air. Untold tons of compressed igneous stone now hung in the air while its neighbor undoubtedly rested just as far beneath the surface.
Grant didn’t know what had driven them to construct a facility in such a place. He didn’t have the shred of a clue as to what was going on behind the doors. All he knew was that not a single one of them would be coming out alive.
The last of the towers above spun their turrets away from Grant’s column in an attempt to engage the rest of the force to the north and south. They were too late in pushing back against the converging deployments from Allen and Mason. Stray shots streaked across the sky above while others slammed randomly against the surface, sending fiery masses of hot slag flying down onto the valley floor below.
“We’re hot!” Grant yelled and both columns descended on the pair of metal doors under the leading cliff, “Front line, get to max range and open fire; enough to take out the walls. CQBs, on me! We’re going all the way in!”
Roaring forward, the commander stood firm on the deck of the tank, watching lines of cannon fire slice only meters above their vehicle. They cut the distance in half before a solid feedback squeal screamed out of the radio and every data feed instantly turned to static.
The operators dropped what they were doing to scratch their headsets away before their eardrums burst while Grant likewise fumbled with the controls. “DON’T STOP! KEEP GOING!” He shouted above the din, reached over the driver’s arm and mashed the throttle all the way forward.
***
“What the hell is that?” Fox demanded, covering his ears to protect himself from the feedback loop screeching over the ship’s communications channel.
“I don’t know! There’s something jamming us out in the system!” the
communications officer’s hands flew over his controls. “I can’t isolate it out!”
“Sir, I just lost engine control!” the pilot yelled out above the noise, “Nothing’s responding!”
Fox saw the fear cross his pilot’s face. “What was that?”
“My controls just locked up! We lost our engines!”
Lieutenant Wright was still frozen in place, trying to process the news. Fox wracked his brain for a solution and smacked Wright on the shoulder. “Snap out of it! This is your ship! What just happened?”
“I… I don’t know… Wait; Scott Ryan was ranting about them taking control of Rans’ ship the other day!”
“What’d he do?”
Wright thought for another second, trying to isolate the conversation, “He locked them out on the security board!”
“Show me!”
“Sir! We’re getting a signal from the surface away from the complex!” the communications officer yelled out as Fox yanked Wright off the bridge.
The commander didn’t bother with a response but instead sprinted to the elevator. Together the soldiers rode it down into the fuselage of the ship. “Where is the security board?”
“I’m not sure. Let me try to find it.” He added, pressing buttons on the elevator’s keypad.
“We don’t have much time!”
“I know, I know! Here!” he exclaimed, “Another six levels down!”
The elevator barely came to a stop before they tumbled out and together took off on a run. He took a wrong turn before second-guessing himself and found the last dim service passage that led to the dark panel of switches. “This is it.”
“What are we looking for?”
“Engine and comm controls. Anything out of place.”
The panel was foreign to the commander, who had never tried to interpret such a thing before. The Lyran technology was compromised, that much he could be sure. The Cygnans could, at will, take control of their systems with a mole onboard. Now apparently they could do the same thing remotely. He kept mulling over the possibilities. If the Patriots were compromised, what about the Flagstaff?
MissionSRX: Deep Unknown Page 28