Abyss Of Savagery

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Abyss Of Savagery Page 2

by Toby Neighbors


  “Do what you can for him,” Dean ordered Corporal Landin. “He’s been through a lot.”

  “Yes, Captain,” the medic said, pulling Chancy away from the group.

  “Look, in any combat operation there will always be a lot of things happening that can only be sorted out after the fact,” Dean said. “We’ll all be debriefed when we get home, and you’ll all have a chance to share your concerns about everything that took place here. Our focus at the moment has to be fulfilling the mission.”

  “Our mission was to drive the Kroll away from the New Wales system,” Vice Admiral Dole said.

  “That mission is fulfilled,” Matsumoto declared.

  “And now,” Dean said, trying to regain control of the conversation. “We have new priorities. First, we have to get the colonists back on the ground. Secondly, we need to utilize the resources on the ships you commanded to establish communications and safety protocols for every member of your crew. Then we can go home—but none of these goals are feasible if we don’t work together.”

  “Agreed,” Matsumoto said. “What do you have in mind?”

  “We need to get our ships pulled off of these monstrosities,” Dole said.

  “Is that even possible?” Aviv asked.

  “They did it with the Apache,” Dole suggested. “Why not our ships?”

  “I’ll tell you why that isn’t going to work,” Dean said. “It’s because the Kroll had time to begin breaking down your vessels. The Apache was able to get free because the enemy didn’t have time to do anything to the ship, and the maintenance personnel had just enough time to fabricate and install a new airlock before we blasted the ship free.”

  “We don’t have the resources to blast even one ship free,” Tallgrass said. “We used all of our ordinance capturing the Kroll ships.”

  “What about the armories on our ships?” Matsumoto said.

  “We lost our Recon platoons, but not their surplus ammunition and weapons,” Aviv said.

  “That may be true,” Dean said. “And I’m hoping you’re right, but at this point, we don’t have the time or the resources to remove your ships.”

  “That’s not acceptable, Captain,” Dole said angrily. “We weren’t tasked with capturing Kroll ships.”

  “What’s the difference between removing your ship now and removing it once we reach the Sol system?”

  “The difference is our careers,” Dole snapped. “If we go home without our ships, we’ll be disgraced. No commander who loses a ship ever gets another command.”

  “Saving careers isn’t our objective,” Tallgrass said in her unflappable, calm tone.

  “This is bullshit!” Dole said loudly, his face pinched in anger. “All you want is to run home and be the hero.”

  “Vice Admiral, calm yourself,” Matsumoto said.

  “There are four of you left,” Dean said. “And I need each of you to take command of one of the Kroll ships.”

  “There are only three Kroll ships,” VA Newberg said, “and four of us.”

  “The harvester ship will need two commanders,” Esma spoke up. “One to command the large central section, and the other to command the ring.”

  “And whoever takes on the secondary command of the harvester ship will also coordinate all three vessels. We have to work together, or we’ll fail,” Dean said. “These are alien ships. We need to learn as much about them as possible in the next few hours.”

  “What are your orders, Captain Blaze?” Matsumoto asked.

  “Thank you, Admiral,” Dean said. “I appreciate your trust in this situation. Captain Dante and some of the other operators have discovered the means of piloting these ships. So our first order of business must be an inspection of your former ships. We need an inventory of every useful item on board: food, medical supplies, weapons, and most importantly, emergency suits for every crew member on these ships.”

  “This we can do,” Matsumoto said.

  “Once we have an idea of our resources, we then need to configure a communications system that will allow us to communicate once we separate the ships.”

  “You think that flying them independently is the best option?” Aviv asked.

  “The rear admiral was right about one thing,” Dean confessed. “I don’t know much about flying space vessels. What I do know is that three separate ships stand a better chance of fulfilling the mission than one supership. The brass has plans for these vessels, and I want to get them all safely back to Sol, but if we run into trouble, I want at least one to survive. Once we have inspected all of the captured ships, we’ll pool our officers and make assignments.”

  “Great, my people need something to do,” Newberg said.

  “Mine too,” Dole agreed, although he sounded skeptical of Dean’s plan. “Shall we meet back here in an hour?”

  “Affirmative, Vice Admiral,” Matsumoto said.

  Dean felt a sense of relief. He hadn’t expected coordinating the naval commanders to be easy, but he wasn’t prepared for the pressure he felt once they all agreed to follow his orders. He didn’t mind laying out a plan of action, but he didn’t enjoy having to defend every decision before it was carried out. It was a little like being in a constant debrief, only he knew the survival of thousands of people and the fulfillment of his mission depended solely on him.

  “Good job,” Esma said once the commanders had left the sickbay.

  “An uneasy alliance,” Dean said.

  “After Chancy got them all captured, it’s surprising that they’re willing to trust you at all. Admiral Matsumoto was too disciplined to disobey the rear admiral, but I could tell he thought Chancy’s orders were foolish.”

  “I’m sure Chancy expected to wipe out the Kroll with overwhelming force,” Dean said. “But his orders left those Recon platoons unprepared. They rushed straight into the trap waiting for them.”

  “So how’d you manage to do it differently?” she asked. “I mean, I’m beginning to believe the rumors about you, Dean. Can you be defeated?”

  He could see the mirth in her eyes, but he felt a thrill when she stared up at him. He wanted to take off his armor and wrap his arms around her, to really connect with her. His armor was a barrier between them, and he knew it was helpful to his mission to maintain that distance, but he hated every bit of it.

  “Are you kidding?” he asked. “We were defeated in the Alrakis system and on the diplomatic mission. This whole mess is the closest we’ve come to victory.”

  “And yet your platoon always seems to do what none of the others can. There were eight Recon platoons sent to destroy the Kroll. They all failed, but your lone platoon succeeded. How do you explain that?”

  “We succeeded because of the fighting done by those other platoons,” Dean said. “And because the Kroll had gorged on the colonists. They were so bloated that they weren't able to fight. It was a fortuitous series of events, but the victory, like most, came at a terrible price. There were too many good people killed here to call this a success.”

  “I know a lot of people died, Dean,” she said softly. “But you saved a lot too. You saved the crews of five ships. You saved thousands of colonists. And you saved me. I’ll never forget it.”

  All Dean could do was smile.

  Chapter 2

  By the time the harvester was fully recharged, the EsDef ships had been searched and the commanders had all taken assignments. Vice Admirals Dole and Newberg were given command of the Kroll longships. Admiral Matsumoto was commanding the harvester, and Admiral Aviv was commanding the ring portion of the huge ship as well as serving as the coordinating officer.

  The Kroll, or more likely their slaves, had already begun dismantling the EsDef ships. The gravity drives were almost completely broken down and removed from the captured vessels. Likewise, much of the food was gone, and the armories were completely stripped bare. What was intact were the computing systems and communication equipment. The EsDef ships did not have artificial gravity, and inside the Kroll gravity well, none w
ere positioned in a way that would allow the crew to operate from their stations. Instead, the engineers were able to route power to the communications array, which in turn allowed each crew to set up an onboard comlink channel as well as tap into a fleet channel which was operated by Admiral Aviv in another of the holding cells, where a smaller doorway had been broken through the glass wall using the FAS handheld lasers.

  Every crew member and officer were required to wear emergency space suits. Unlike Recon armor, the space suits only held a small oxygen canister with enough breathable air for a few hours, but in a dire emergency the suits would protect the crew members from hard vacuum. It also linked each person into the communication network. Unlike the Recon Specialists, the crew members had bubble helmets that could be opened all the way back in a telescoping arch that revealed almost their entire head.

  “Everything is ready,” Esma announced from her makeshift station on top of the gravity drive on the harvester ship.

  She was working with two other operators and the helmsman from the Sekigahara. Admiral Matsumoto was on the rim of the nest structure along with his communications officer, who was operating a portable comms station. Their navigator was on board the Sekigahara using its computer system to plot their course through the atmosphere and onto a designated landing area on the planet.

  Dean’s platoon was helping the colonists while the rest of the crew members from the captured ships stayed with the Kroll vessels. It was a tense moment. Esma was certain she could pilot the alien ship, but it wasn’t clear exactly how the mechanisms that held the harvester to the ring portion of the huge saucer-shaped ship actually worked. There were no mechanics, just a thick layer of the Kroll goo that seemed to have a life of its own. The longships had reconnected automatically when they were pulled close to the harvester ship. Dean, Esma, and Matsumoto had guessed that perhaps the harvester ship would work the same way.

  They had learned quite a lot about the Kroll ships. They were constructed in a similar fashion, although the harvester ship was much larger in scale. The nest or aviary sections of the ships contained the gravity drive, and below that were a power plant and life support systems in the maintenance section of the ship. The rest of the craft was built to house the subordinate species which served the Kroll, or the harvested species which served as food for the predatory race of avian creatures.

  The longships were a simple, linear design with a single-life support system. The Kroll breathed an oxygen-rich atmosphere that was compatible with humans. The harvester ship had separate systems for the ring portion and the larger aviary section, which could be detached and flown down into the atmosphere of planets. The long, mechanical tentacle arms were utilized to gather resources—namely, creatures that could be consumed as food by the Kroll.

  What wasn’t known was how the Kroll communicated from ship to ship. Or how they navigated. No computer systems were found on the large vessels, no input devices for pinpointing specific points of space to which the gravity drives could build a chain of gravitons. Dean had his own pet theories, but they didn’t have the time or the manpower to discover the answers.

  “This is Admiral Matsumoto commanding the harvester ship. Prepare for vessel separation. All ships report in, over.”

  Dean was next to one of the chutes that led from the aviary to the ring passage. No one knew if the harvester would simply detach from the ring or if trying to separate the ships would cause all the vessels to break apart. Worse yet, the Kroll might have some type of self-destruct built into the ships. In trying to fly the harvester, they might accidentally blow the ship apart. Dean didn’t like feeling as if he had no control, but he comforted himself in knowing that Esma was in charge of flying the huge, acorn-shaped ship.

  “This is Commander Dole on the Hastings, standing by, over.”

  “This is Commander Newberg on the Petersberg, standing by, over.”

  “The Dunkirk is ready, Admiral,” Aviv said, indicating the ring portion of the large harvester ship. “Initiate separation on your command, over.”

  “Captain Blaze, are your troops in position, over?” Matsumoto asked.

  “Affirmative. Wolfpack platoon is in place. Colonists are ready. Everything looks good on our end, Admiral, over.”

  “Very good,” Matsumoto said. “Captain Dante, take us out.”

  Dean heard the chute he was stationed at shut off. It didn’t sound mechanical; the noise was more like a thick curtain being dropped at a stage play. There was no sense of movement, no sound of engines coming to life. But Dean could tell by the steady flow of communication that the harvester section of the Kroll ship had separated from the outer ring section.

  An hour passed before the slow-moving ship entered the atmosphere of the planet. Dean longed for external cameras, but there was nothing to see. The colonists were quickly bored. They sat on the spongy turf that covered the deck in the aviary. Dean remained at his post, as did the other members of his platoon. Some mingled through the crowd, ready to help calm frightened colonists, but Dean realized there was no need. The Kroll ship descended to the surface of the planet as easily as someone might go on a stroll around the block.

  “Ship is in position,” Esma said. “Opening chutes now, over.”

  “Captain Blaze, let’s get these colonists out, if you please, over,” Admiral Matsumoto said.

  “Roger,” Dean said. He switched on his battle armor’s external speakers at full volume. “People of Cymru, please exit the spacecraft in an orderly manner.”

  Dean went through the chute first. When he came to the end, he found the ship hovering a few feet from the surface, but the chute was much higher. Fortunately, the goo that Dean guessed had covered the hatch during their flight had formed a slide of sorts. He stepped out and slid down on his knees, landing easily at the bottom, before turning to look up at the colonists nearly twenty feet up on the alien ship.

  “It’s okay,” he called out. “Just take your time. I’m here to help you.”

  The first few colonists hesitated at the top of the slide, but soon they were exiting in a steady stream. Dean waited at the foot of the ramp, looking around at the lush world of Cymru. It wasn’t what he expected. Esma had landed the Kroll harvester in a meadow that was so vibrantly green it took Dean’s breath away. The sky was purple with pink clouds floating by in a lazy fashion. At the edge of the meadow were trees, huge towering trees with massive trunks. They looked slightly odd to Dean—familiar, yet foreign. After nearly an hour, Dean saw a small herd of horses come curiously to the edge of the meadow, watching the enormous alien ship hovering impossibly over the ground.

  “We’ll send the injured down now, Captain,” Matsumoto said. “Once they’ve disembarked, have your platoon return to the ship, over.”

  “Yes, sir. Over,” Dean said, feeling a twinge of regret. There was a sense of wonder on the planet that called to Dean. He wished they had time to explore, to see more of Cymru. He wasn’t interested in discarding technology, but he could understand the desire not to spoil such a naturally beautiful world. It would be a crime to see a factory billowing smoke into the air or dumping garbage into a river. Even modern buildings would seem out of place on such a pristine planet, Dean thought.

  The injured had to be helped down the slide, but the goo wasn’t as smooth as metal or even plastic. Moving slowly down the slide was possible, and Dean helped the injured at the bottom. No one fell, and there were colonists waiting to help those in need. They spoke in a language that sounded like singing to Dean. Not that they sang, but the words were light and seemed to dance from their tongue as they spoke.

  “Colonists have all disembarked,” Chavez said, poking his head out of the chute and looking around at the beauty of the planet. “Recommend that all EsDef personnel return to the ship, over.”

  “Roger that,” Dean said. He couldn’t see the other specialists, but he knew that there were half a dozen chutes and the thousands of colonists snatched from their world had been using them all as th
ey evacuated the spacecraft. “Wolfpack platoon is returning to the ship, over.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Matsumoto said.

  Dean scrambled back up the ramp. It reminded him of being a child. Like most children, the challenge of getting back up the playground slide was a test of their growing independence. Dean had scrambled up plenty chrome-covered slides in his youth, and the goo ramp was even easier to ascend. The surface of the ramp wasn’t smooth exactly, and he had no trouble climbing up the slide and back into the alien ship.

  He cast one last glance back at the unspoiled landscape. Most of the colonists had left the meadow and were hidden in the trees, leaving very little evidence of having been there at all. Dean felt a pang of longing. Something deep down inside him wanted to stay, to get lost in the forest, to run free with the wild horses on a world without war, without the constant need to be busy, without fear. Of all the colony worlds Dean had been on, Cymru had the strongest appeal—but the call of duty was even stronger, and Dean hurried back inside.

  “We’re all inside and accounted for,” Chavez said on the platoon channel.

  “Thank you, Staff Sergeant,” Dean replied before switching back to the command channel. “Wolfpack platoon is clear, Admiral, over.”

  “Very good, Captain Blaze,” Matsumoto replied. “Captain Dante, would you please take us back into orbit?”

  The journey back into space was just as smooth as the trip down. It was the first bit of rest Dean’s platoon had gotten. They met together at the base of the nest structure in the center of the aviary, stretched out on the spongy turf, and slept.

 

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