“Yes, because we won’t have to fight one. But it doesn’t make sense why there wouldn’t be one guarding such an important outpost.”
“Guys,” Keryn said, the words catching in her throat as her heart leapt. “I think I know why there isn’t a ship in orbit.”
They all turned toward the forward window as the Ballistae moved around the planet and got its first view of the galaxy. Directly before them, hanging dead in space, was a large black sun. Keryn clenched her fist so tightly that blood seeped from beneath her fingernails. To the left of the dark sun, Beracus floated in the unnatural darkness. Even from their distance, Keryn could see that the once vibrant swamp planet was covered in feet of white, powdery snow.
Keryn trudged through the waist deep snow, keeping her sight on the abandoned Terran outpost still half a mile away. Under foot, buried beneath the white powder, the once marshy ground had turned into frozen tundra. Around her, the crew who had accompanied her and Adam to the planet’s surface, broke through the thick drifts in search of any surviving plant life. Unfortunately, their results were all the same. Beracus was a dead world.
“They’re all withered,” one of the men yelled as Keryn leaned into the biting arctic wind. The man, barely visible through the blowing snow, held up a limp brown plant that he had torn from the ground. “Should I bring it with us?”
Keryn scowled and continued pushing forward. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared intently at the ghost of a building in the distance. She wanted to believe that the tears were from the driving snow which blew constantly into her face, stinging her skin and turning her cheeks bright red, a stark contract to her blue and purple tattoos. But she knew that a large part of the tears was brought on by the realization that her mission had been for nothing. Good soldiers had died on Pteraxis while she hunted Cardax for nothing more than this planet’s name. Penchant and hundreds more sacrificed their lives so that she could escape Othus with the location of this outpost. To arrive and find nothing but a lifeless husk left an ache in her chest that she wasn’t sure would heal any time soon. Instead of letting the sadness overwhelm her, however, Keryn pressed ever forward, hoping beyond hope that the blockish grey building in the distance would offer redemption for this abysmal failure.
Struggling to keep up with her feverish pace, Adam and Wyck walked side by side behind Keryn. They had spotted the facility on their initial approach and had been tempted to land closer. Those on board, however, had insisted on taking the opportunity to search for the mythical plant that created Deplitoxide. After stepping off the craft and sinking into the snow, Adam instantly regretted that decision. The mood of the walk, already dour and hostile, did not improve as they moved through the landscape. The densely packed trees had died under the frigid assault. Long icicles drooped from the hanging branches like ominous claws. The light refracting from their flashlights cast stark shadows, which danced in between the trees, and reflected harshly on the white snow.
After closing the distance to the facility, the grey building loomed before the trio. They scanned its facade with their flashlights, but the narrow beams seemed insignificant as the passed along the outside of the three-story structure. All along the front of the building, windows were smashed, leaving jagged shards of glass protruding from their sockets. To Keryn, it seemed uncertain whether the damage had been done by the Terrans before they left or by a native creature searching refuge from the plummeting temperatures. Turning away from the windows, Keryn located the closest door that, to her surprise, stood partially ajar.
The trio moved toward it and, with Adam putting his shoulder against it, forced the door open enough for them to enter. The interior was dark, penetrated only by their lights. Just past the door, a snow bank sat piled where it had blown through the cracked doorway. Beyond, among the twisting maze of hallways and laboratories, silence stretched like a blanket over the facility.
“Why did they do it?” Wyck asked quietly, fearing to intrude on the thick silence.
“Why’d they do what?” Adam asked, pushing his boot through the refuse that lay buried beneath the snowdrift. He couldn’t be certain whether the pile of trash had been naturally carried on the winds or had been placed as a nest. He hoped for the former.
“Why destroy their own world?” Wyck explained. “They owned this planet and everything in this entire galaxy. They had the means to produce infinite amounts of Deplitoxide and the laboratories to refine it. But, instead, the planet’s dead and the outpost abandoned. It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” Adam said darkly. “They had enough Deplitoxide to cripple the entire Alliance. I’m also willing to bet they found an antidote for it. By destroying Beracus, they made sure we never got our hands on any of it.”
“And by destroying the lab,” Keryn said as she pushed past them both and proceeded down the hallway, “they ensured that they were the only ones to hold the cure. They had both the instrument of our destruction and the cure at their disposal.” Without slowing, Keryn walked down the hall until all that remained was a slight silhouette and the clicking of her boots on the tiled floor.
Adam and Wyck exchanged glances and sped off to catch her. The winding passages within the outpost looked to be in little better condition than the exterior. Large panes of glass that once separated the halls from the individual labs had been destroyed. The glass had shattered into the labs, lending itself to Keryn’s theory that the damage to the building happened intentionally as the Terrans were evacuating the planet. The trio stopped at a number of the laboratories, searching through the toppled vials and destroyed centrifuges, but found nothing of value.
Keryn threw the test tube in her hands, shattering it against the far wall. “Why are we even here!” she yelled into the destroyed laboratory.
Adam motioned for Wyck to wait outside while he moved over to her side. He placed an arm around her shoulder and held her close, even as she tensed at his touch. Alone with Adam in the lab, the tears she had held back outside now flowed freely.
“It’s not fair,” she cried into Adam’s shoulder. “We’ve worked so hard. We’ve been through so much. I can’t accept that this is how our mission ends.”
Adam stroked her hair as she buried her face in his chest. “It’s not over yet,” Adam said, consoling. “We didn’t come this far just to reach a dead end now.”
“Shut up, Adam,” she said between sobs. “Quit being my savior and just hold me until I get this out of my system.”
They stood in silence, wrapped in each other’s embrace, until Keryn’s shoulders finally quit shaking. As she pulled away, she wiped the streaks of tears from her face and looked him in the eyes.
“Tell me we can do this,” she demanded.
“We can do this,” he said confidently. “If there’s a computer left in this outpost, Wyck will find it. I figured that’s why you brought him along.”
“That’s exactly why,” she confessed. “I wish he could search the Ballistae computer files from here instead of wasting his time walking around with the two of us.”
“Tora will do fine on the ship. Wyck is needed here.” Tora was an Avalon who had shown some impressive computer proficiency, but nowhere near the same brilliance that Wyck had demonstrated. Still, they were both sure that Tora would do fine sorting through the multitude of files.
“Let’s get out of here before I have another episode,” Keryn said, dejected. “My Voice is already calling me names.”
Adam laughed out loud as he followed her into the hall where Wyck waited, looking surprised at the sudden laughter. Placing his hand on Wyck’s shoulder, Adam pushed him deeper into the labyrinth of the Terran facility.
The trio lost track of time in the dark, winding passages. Occasionally, they passed a destroyed window, the dark glow from the outside shining only slightly brighter than the inky gloom within the building. Twice, they went up sets of stairs, following Wyck’s guidance. He explained as they walked that the computer system would
be closest to the center of the building, which was the direction they moved. However, the humidity and indigenous creatures that would have roamed a marshy planet like Beracus precluded the computer systems from being stored on the first floor. After an eternity of walking, Wyck’s intuition paid off when they found the main control room.
Keryn’s mood did not improve as they viewed the decimated remains of the room. The large monitor that dominated the far wall was shattered, appearing to have suffered from multiple gunshots before the screen cracked and crumbled. Wyck moved to one of the imbedded computer towers in the room, shaking his head as he stuck his fingers into the holes blasted into the side of its alloy casing.
“They shot it,” he said, irritated. “It looks like they shot everything in here!”
“Focus, Wyck,” Keryn said calmly, suppressing the frustration she shared with the young genius. “Search all of them. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that soldiers firmly believe that if you shoot something, it’s no longer an issue. They often fail to understand the intricacies of aiming at a specific part of the computer tower. Find me a computer tower where they didn’t hit the specific part we need.”
As Wyck went to work examining the computers, Keryn left the room and activated her microphone. “Ballistae, this is Talon,” she said, keeping the call sign she had used with the Cair Ilmun.
“This is Ballistae,” the static-filled voice replied as the signal broke through the blizzard swirling across the planet.
“Patch me through to the control room,” Keryn requested, referring to the computer room where Tora was examining computer files.
“This is Tora,” a bubbly Avalon voice replied over the radio, her voice crackling from the interference.
“Tora, this is Keryn. We’re in the computer room now, searching for anything useful. What have you found up there?”
“Nothing so far. I’m sorry, Keryn. There are still quite a few files to go, though, so I’ll let you know the second I find something worthwhile.”
Keryn frowned, disappointed. She had hoped that one of the two current missions would reveal some good news. She keyed the microphone again. “Don’t worry about it, Tora. Just keep working to find me anything I can use. Keryn, out.”
She walked back inside, shaking her head in response to Adam’s inquisitive look. She gestured to Wyck, who slid on hands and knees from one tower to another. A steady stream of profanity flew from his lips as he examined yet another shattered tower.
“That pretty well says it all,” Adam said as she slipped an arm through his. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m better. Sometimes, I just need to get it all out before I can start recharging again.”
“Vent any time you need to,” Adam said as he leaned down, his lips meeting hers in a gentle kiss. They both jumped as Wyck yelled excitedly.
“I’ve found one!” he screamed, jumping to his feet.
“You found a working tower?” Keryn asked, her own enthusiasm mirroring Wyck’s. For the first time in days, a smile spread across her face.
“Yes, I did,” he said, dropping back down to the ground and prying open the front of the computer tower. “I mean, they probably wiped the hard drive before they tried to shoot it…”
The frown disappeared from Keryn’s face. “What do you mean ‘wiped the hard drive’?” The anger crept into her voice. “You said you found a working tower. Now did you or didn’t you?”
Though his back was to her, Keryn swore she could sense him rolling his eyes. “Remember when we were on the ship and you and I compared the emphasis of research for both the Empire and the Alliance? The Terrans wiped the hard drives on their computers, assuming that the data is lost forever once it’s complete. To be honest, it would be lost to an average genius. But I am not average.” Wyck ended his rant with a flair of arrogance.
Adam placed his hand on Keryn’s arm as she started to step toward Wyck. “So you’re saying you can retrieve the data?” Adam asked, defusing the hostility in the air.
“I should be able to get the data, no problem,” Wyck replied. He reached into the depths of the tower, pulling out a handful of color-coded wires. Holding his flashlight in his mouth, he sorted through the mess of colored cables until he found the two he was looking for. Detaching electronic nodes from his own handheld console, Wyck attached the nodes to the wires. As his fingers flew across the screen of the console, data started flooding into his computer from the dormant hard drive.
“Give me a little time to retrieve all the deleted data and sort through the crap we don’t need,” Wyck requested, “then I’ll be able to give you an answer.”
Keryn leaned into Adam and whispered in his ear as Wyck began typing again. “I don’t wait very well.”
Adam chuckled. “If anyone knows that already, don’t you think I realize that fact? Go explore the rest of the floor. Go look out a window. Find something to pass the time or you’re going to drive us both crazy.”
“And him?” she asked, motioning toward Wyck.
“I’ll keep him working like a good slave driver,” Adam replied, snapping to the position of attention. “I won’t let him take a coffee break or anything.”
It was then Keryn’s turn to laugh. “Very funny. Call me as soon as you have anything.”
Keryn wandered out into the hall, her flashlight barely cutting through the darkness. She thought about exploring, but figured the chance of finding anything left behind by the Terrans was slim. Instead, she decided to take Adam’s other advice and found a window. Standing on top of the shattered glass and piled snow next to the broken window, Keryn closed her eyes and let the cold wind blow over her. On the third floor, the blizzard crashed against the bottom of the building and billowed upward, catching her silvery hair in the updraft. Though cold, the air seemed relaxing as the tension began draining from her body.
Opening her eyes again, Keryn looked out on the bleak landscape. From her vantage point, she was able to make out the start of the jungle canopy. In the gloom, with only the stars’ ambient light illuminating the land, the ice-coated tree tops glistened like crystals in the darkness. Though she was sure that the planet would have been beautiful when it was lush and living, there was a serene elegance to the frozen world she now observed. Only the howling of the wind disrupted the peaceful solitude.
“I’ve got something,” Wyck called over the radio, breaking Keryn free from her mental vacation.
As she stepped away from the window, her radio crackled to life again.
“I’ve got something, Keryn” Tora sang over the static.
“Tora, hold fast,” Keryn replied as she activated the radio. “I’ll be with you in a second.” Switching channels, she keyed the microphone again. “Wyck, I’m heading to your position.”
Though she tried not to get excited, Keryn quickly found herself running through the halls of the outpost until she reached the control room.
“What have you found?” she asked, the cold air burning her lungs after her exertion.
“Everything,” Wyck said as he turned, a broad smile splayed across his face. “I told you the Terrans were terrible at technology. I have their chemical equations for curing the Deplitoxide.”
“That’s great,” Keryn said, unable to contain her excitement.
But the planet…, the Voice whispered, acting as the voice of reason.
Keryn stopped just short of hugging Wyck as she quickly understood what the Voice was saying.
“The planet is dead,” she said, voicing her concerns. “How are we going to experiment toward creating the cure? We don’t have any Deplitoxide to use as a base.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Adam said as he leaned against one of the exposed support beams. “At my last count, we have nearly a score of Deplitoxide rockets on board the Ballistae in one of the weapons bays.”
Keryn’s eyes sparkled in the dark. “You’re right. I inventoried them when I was examining the weapon systems on board. Adam, you’r
e a genius!”
Wyck coughed politely from his seated position at the computer.
“Don’t worry, Wyck. You’re not half bad either,” Keryn chided. Reaching to her microphone, Keryn activated it again.
“You still there, Tora?” she asked.
“Yes I am.”
“Do you have some good news for me too?” Keryn said.
“Not so much,” Tora replied. “We had guessed before that the Terrans were able to coordinate so complex an assault into Alliance space because their computers were all interconnected.”
Keryn remembered being briefed on something along those lines and said as much to Tora over the radio.
“I think our ship is still attached to that network,” Tora said flatly.
Keryn and Adam exchanged worried glances. “Is that a bad thing? Can they track us using the connection?”
“I’m sure they could, if that was their intent,” Tora explained. “But I think the main reason for this connection is to coordinate attacks. It has quite a few battle plans stored in its buffer.”
“Tora, can you send all that data down to Wyck’s computer?” Keryn asked as she turned toward the bank of computers. Wyck nodded, entering the code to receive a data stream.
“Absolutely. I’m sending it your way now.”
Keryn stood over Wyck’s shoulder as the he downloaded the files. As soon as it was done, she snatched the handheld console from his hand and began perusing the files. She scrolled through a series of battle plans as Adam stood by one shoulder and Wyck assumed his position at the other. In the corner of each tactical overlay, Keryn noticed a date imprinted.
“These have already happened,” she said, pointing at the dates. “I’m going to see if there’s any battle charts for current or future attacks.”
Scrolling past the outdated plans, Keryn finally reached one, the date of which told her that what she was watching was happening in real time. She stood, stunned, as she watched the projected strategy play itself out.
“They’re attacking the Fleet,” Keryn said.
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