Junker Blues: Mars: Junker Blues series

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Junker Blues: Mars: Junker Blues series Page 12

by Lon E. Varnadore


  He sighed and looked at the screen. The sandstorm raged outside, with the vids showing the skin of the Crawl dissolving the thick, waxy layer of unknown material that surrounded their flesh that built up over time. It was simply being eaten away by the sand. Their milky-pale, unseeing eyes stared ahead. Many already had had their eyes obliterated by the tiny rocks and sand particles; only “seeing” through their dark sockets, some with bone starting to appear that was also suffused with the strange wax-like structure. Marcus wasn’t sure, but it appeared those still-injured drones still moved with the rest of their Crawl brethren as a unit. They had one reason to get inside. They still need to feed. They would tear down the walls to get to them. It might take time, but the Crawl’s corrupting touch had an effect on even pre-Crawl metals and tech eventually. It was tough and strong, but Crawl venom was still effective in the long term destroying it by degrees.

  How many Crawl swarms are on Mars? How long until they destroy everything on this planet? Where can we run? He shuddered, thinking that the swarms might be gaining more and more mass as they terrorized the planet. He had heard reports even out in his isolation on the cusp of the MDF that smaller Martian towns and outposts were disappearing in what was thought to be “freak” Crawl swarms. The Eridani and the Mars Ministry wanted nothing to do with it since they would actually have to help people believe the fake news.

  He glanced at Harley, wondering how she could help the Eridani. She had to know what they had done, but she did nothing.

  “What?” The bodyguard asked, as Marcus glanced at her.

  “How can you work with him?” He asked, shaking his head.

  “She is not the one in question,” Grin said. “You have about one minute to decide if you want to get on the ship or take your chances with those abominations.” The Eridani then turned his chair and started to float away towards the back of the bunker towards the hanger.

  Marcus pursed his lips, looking from the bodyguard and her retreating boss to the screen filled with Crawl and back. He gave Lash a final look, her face a blank mask. “Agreed,” he said, feeling his mark start to burn in his thumb again despite the dampener. At least with the Eridani, we might survive this.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “How are we going to get out of here, Grin?” Marcus asked while following the retreating form and his bodyguard along the yellow hallways that led toward the back of the bunker. Most of the living units had been opened and ransacked by other scrappers long ago. Even some of the inner walls had been taken out.

  Harley turned with a quick spin, her hand dropping to the laz-pistol. “His full name and title is—”

  “Harley, peace,” Grin said, holding a hand up. Harley stiffened but was silent. She moved her hand off her weapon and took a step back to stand next to her charge.

  Marcus couldn’t see how Harley saw the gesture he offered, but she stopped, swung her head back, glared at Marcus, and seethed, her hands clenching and unclenching, ready to throttle Marcus. He didn’t know what was in her that was enhanced, but he was glad Grin had called off his dog.

  “If the wolfling wishes to use such a truncated and informal name for me, that is his prerogative. Manners maketh the man, as the human saying goes,” Grin said without stopping.

  Marcus glared at the Eridani. “And, of course, we all know how formal the Eridani like to be, don’t we, Grin?” The question was a barb that landed more with Harley than Grin-Inzo49. Marcus thought it was odd, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. The bunker’s protocols activated when the Crawl drones got through the first airlock door by sealing off the airlock chamber from the rest of the bunker. It would slow down the drones, but not stop them entirely.

  “We might have enough time to get to my ship,” Grin said, “but we need to hurry through the subterranean passages. The docking bay passages were blocked, and corrosion had exposed the passage to the Martian atmosphere when Harley and I landed here.”

  Of course. Marcus growled in the back of his throat. The bunkers and the docking bays were part of the same complex. He remembered more than one briefing from the endless MDF training holos that explained that the docking bays of most pre-Crawl hangers were prone to corrosion, making it likely that eventually they would sever completely from the bunker itself. He always chalked it up to another weird thing that happened when the pre-Crawl society had prospered before the Black Years. Going through the tunnels wouldn’t expose them as much to the possibility of Crawl drones. Still, something about their recent behavior made Marcus doubt that would work.

  They entered into another room, which Marcus thought was strange, since it looked like Grin was moving straight towards the bunker’s wall. The wall slid on a noiseless track, and Marcus realized this had been used very recently. The Eridani revealed what looked like an storage room, cream colored walls and back wall that looked a little different than most. That is when Marcus realized this was an annex into the subterranean tunnels. Grin tapped a button on his chair to reveal rows of a small armory. Marcus believed most of the weapons would’ve been taken by other scrappers, and was taken aback by the fact the racks were filled with longarms, pistols, battery packs that were interchangeable for both weapons, and even a few lightweight armor vests. He looked at Grin. “How have these weapons not been taken?”

  “This is not a widely known bunker. I have been using it as a staging ground for my own interests. However, that has been compromised.”

  Marcus looked at Grin. “You are talking about your own little lair, aren’t you?”

  Grin looked at Marcus with another non-smile smile. “Something along those lines.”

  It made sense to Marcus. If the Eridani wanted to have a small little hideaway, tuck a few extra clones or tech in here, the MDF would turn a blind eye to him. As they did with most Eridani business. “Clever little peppermint,” Marcus muttered.

  “What was that?” Harley asked, glaring at Marcus.

  “Nothing, thinking out loud,” Marcus said.

  “Then I suggest you stop,” Harley said, he laz-pistol pointed in his general direction.

  Donning their suits again with Grin’s hover-chair simply creating a field that kept the spindly, sprawled alien safe inside with air and pressure. At least I don’t have to smell his stink while we travel, Marcus thought.

  Harley and Marcus were elected for guard duty, with Grin moving ahead of them. Lash was voluntold to go ahead as a “Crawl detector” in front of him. “Good little toy solider,” Grin said with his strange smile, as Lashiel stalked ahead, her movements a little steadier after whatever treatment Harley had given her. Marcus caught a glare she gave him as she moved.

  Grin looked at Harley and then at Marcus before he followed the Ilas. “He will need his weapon,” Grin said to his bodyguard without looking at her. He did not say anything else, simply slipped into the darkness of the tunnel after Lashiel.

  “Yessir,” Harley said, though there was a strain in her voice. She tapped her gauntlet, and Marcus felt the thrum of his thrower power back on.

  His hand dropped to the sidearm, and Harley’s hand shot out a few inches from his face, her fingertips held together. Marcus spotted the thin, metal talons that had been sheathed in her fingernails. “Do not make me gut you before you even have a chance to transfer your mark to my master,” she said, her voice calm. There was even a small smile on her face.

  “Making sure it’s charged is all,” Marcus said, checking his HUD. The sensors in his suit glove read that the thrower was about seventy percent charged. It would have to be enough. “You never know what Eridani tech will do to human tech.”

  She smiled. “Oh, we know,” she said with a conspiratorial smirk. “We just don’t care.”

  Her predatory smile caused a chill to run down Marcus’ spine.

  “Shall we go?” Harley asked, pulling a longarm thrower from a rack. She glared as Marcus tried to take one but relented. When he took it, he realized that it was dead. All of them were.

  “Hey, a li
ttle help?”

  “Sorry, this one is mine. All of those have been dead for a long time.”

  Marcus looked at the small rack of weapons and wondered how they were missed.

  Marcus said nothing, grabbed a longarm anyway, then plunged into the dark access tunnels after Grin and Lash, hoping that he would see this deal through and then handle the far larger issue of stopping Grin from taking his slave mark once they were safe.

  Or at least safe-ish.

  The dark tunnels under the bunker, used for extra storage and access to the hanger before the long, connective hallway had been constructed, looked old and disused. The lights in the tunnel were few and far between, even fewer that had any kind of illumination. The suits that he and Lash wore gave some light in front, Grin’s chair provided enough to see by, and Harley’s new and shiny suit helped her move and let her see through some other means. Every several meters, he saw a few abandoned cargo containers. He saw them on either side of the four-meter wide corridor. At least we have some kind of cover.

  “I don’t like this. This is too easy,” Marcus said.

  “I am sure you would think that, since your species relies far too much on luck,” Grin said through Marcus’s comm. “This is the best way. The only way, really. Come along.”

  Marcus checked the longarm and saw that it held enough of a charge for one shot, though it would be at low power. Better than nothing. His thrower, even at full, would have some issues with the Crawl, but it was the only thing he had.

  There was a sudden, low growl that seemed to penetrate Marcus’s suit. He saw all of the group reacting the same way. “We should move faster,” Grin said, a small burr of annoyance in his voice.

  “That took less time than I thought,” Marcus said to himself. As soon as Marcus plunged into to the access tunnels, he had a feeling that they were coming. That the waxy, creepy things would be coming after them soon. His gut wasn’t wrong.

  “They are coming. Three targets behind us, half a klick,” Lash sent to Marcus. “And, they were able to fine a weakness in the hanger. We will have some company there as well.”

  Marcus saw that Harley was already turning around, so were they in her head too? He wondered as he scrambled to get cover behind one of the empty cargo containers. It wouldn’t provide him much, but better than standing out in the open. He cast a look over his shoulder and saw Grin and Lash had hunkered down as well. There was a small, blurry barrier between Grin and Lash against the coming Crawl. Can’t make a bigger one, huh peppermint bastard? He turned to see through the inconsistent light of the tunnels that there were creatures coming, four of them, not three. All moving at a shambling gait. Harley didn’t wait; she stepped out and leveled her longarm at the nearest one and fired. A thick, fist-sized bolt of plasma shot from the barrel, burning through the first creature’s center mass. Marcus followed a moment behind, his own longarm sputtering and firing a ball that struck the shoulder of the next closest one. He tossed the longarm, drawing his thrower pistol, and it sang, firing three of its own smaller thumbnail-sized bolts of superheated plasma, taking another drone in the legs. The creature’s legs broke apart, but it still kept coming, crawling towards Marcus and Harley, moving a little faster.

  Within a heartbeat, Harley had taken down the other two. Marcus’s own bolts helped dispatch one that he had taken out at the leg. He stood to look at Harley to congratulate her, when he saw the wall beside her break open and four more drones swing at her. He brought his pistol up, firing at them.

  Harley brought her longarm up at him until she realized he wasn’t firing at her. She dropped, spinning to let her back hit the ground and fired at the tight-packed mass of Crawl. The ambush did not work this time, Marcus thought, though he did pull away from the wall just in case.

  “More are coming from this way, hurry,” Lash sent.

  Marcus was running down the corridor, Harley kept up and was already firing further down the tunnel. Marcus watched as the first fist-sized bolt flew over Grin’s shield. The timing looked almost choregraphed as she fired again, acquiring a target and firing another and another. Marcus looked to Grin and saw his own thrower hammering at the dozen drones that moved closer and closer to Lash and Grin.

  The last drone dropped, and Grin started forward again.

  “Where are you going?”

  “This is the only way to my ship. You have a better idea?” Grin asked.

  “We could use your shield?” Marcus said.

  “Not enough power. The personal one is the best it can do. Even the little barrier I had protecting the tin soldier drained it more than I wanted.”

  After five stomach-churning minutes of nothing, they came to a large airlock-like hatch. Stenciled on it was “Sub-airlock to hangar.”

  Lash had stopped and waited for Grin, Marcus, and Harley. When Grin gestured for her to continue, she shook her head.

  “Why did you stop?” Harley asked, looking at Lash with a glare that Marcus could more hear than see because of the dark reflective helmet she wore.

  Lash closed her eyes a moment and took a breath. She gestured to the airlock. “Behind this are ten more of them, all poised and ready to attack us.”

  “That is the only way to the ship,” Grin said. “We have to go through.”

  “Of course, it is,” Marcus said with a roll of his eyes. “Couldn’t have made this any easier, huh?”

  Grin turned and looked at him. “What is that—"

  “Never mind. Lash, are they—”

  “In a holding pattern. They are waiting for us, Marcus.” Lash said, holding the leather satchel closer to her.

  “So, what do we do?” Harley asked.

  “You, Harley, and the toy soldier go in first to protect me,” Grin said.

  Marcus looked at Grin, and for just a single heartbeat, the thought of shooting Grin flitted through his mind. It wouldn’t get through, and Harley might stop him before he was able to squeeze off a shot, but he was very tempted. “Don’t you have something that could protect us all?” Knowing full well what he’d say, he knew that the peppermint was lying.

  “I do not have the… power… required for use of a full shield of us all against them, I told you this, wolfling. This hover unit is depleted. I cannot—”

  Marcus waved his hand to stop the Eridani from lying. “I get it. You’re safe, we’re chow. Great.” He looked at his thrower, it was down to twenty percent. Better than nothing. He looked at Harley. “How—”

  “I have about four shots with this,” Harley said tapping the barrel of the longarm. “I have the las-pistol. But I’m weary to use it in close proximity to the ship.”

  “Make each shot count,” Harley and Marcus said at the same time. The two looked at each other and gave a small nod. For a fleeting moment, Marcus felt a small bond of friendship between himself and Harley.

  Lash grabbed the handle and then looked at them. “Ready?” She sent.

  Both gave a curt nod, weapons ready, and Lash pulled the hatch open.

  Harley entered first, firing off two quick shots and skirting the right wall. Marcus fired at the other two drones that had pressed forward, hitting one in the head and one in the shoulder. He slipped off to the opposite side of the entryway. Lash stayed behind Grin, her nimble form crouching low.

  “Go on, tin solider,” Marcus heard Grin speak up.

  Marcus’ thrower was getting lower as he elbowed one of the drones hard to shake him off. He then slammed the butt end of his thrower into another drone’s head, cracking it hard enough to stun the creature and drop it for a moment.

  More of the drones were on Harley’s side, and she finished off the longarm. She was using it as a club for a moment.

  Then, two of the Crawl were heading towards the protected Lash and Grin. He launched himself towards them. He had to protect Lash and Grin. Even Harley was useful for the moment. He picked his shots carefully as the general scrum broke apart and another wave of drones were coming for them. The Crawl drones didn’t expect
throwers, only people. Marcus’ next five shots rocked back three Crawl on his side. Harley had pulled out her laz-pistol and was picking her shots carefully, each short, sharp burst of crimson light lancing through a drone’s skull with the precision of a sniper. Marcus’ best shots were taking drones out at the knee, but those still crawled towards them at a slower rate but still came towards them.

  Great, she’s out, Marcus realized as he saw another bolt of laser take one of the drones he was about to fire on.

  The two had been carried away from the entry way as the drones had started to swarm them. Marcus couldn’t see Grin or Lash for a moment until they broke through a small swarm. the barrier that was up slammed the drones back, and Grin hammered the chair forward with lash running behind him, not letting any lag create a gap between her and the hovering chair.

  He mumbled a “Be careful,” when something loomed in front of him. It was something he had only heard of in whispered conversations and as a boogeyman in holodramas. It was a thick-bodied creature with the upper half having the same dark, waxy covering, but the torso descended into a snake’s body and tail that stretched ten feet behind it. The creature’s face was humanoid, but a thick hood of wax and grey-purple flesh covered the top torso like a snake hood.

  “A Qith?” Harley shouted. “Get back, Marcus.”

  Marcus tried to take a step backwards, but the drone Qith had a speed he’d never seen in a drone or in a human unassisted by implants. It struck down towards Marcus, who brought his arm up in a futile attempt to stop the attack. The snake man grabbed his arm and hurled Marcus towards Harley.

  The two connected with a solid thud, both going down hard. Harley scrambled out from under Marcus far faster than he thought possible, his head swimming from striking the plating of the hanger. Harley half-turned to help him up when the Qith drone was on them, sinking its broken, black fangs into Harley’s shoulder. She let out a scream of pain, and Marcus thought he heard Grin shout her name.

 

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