The Planetsider Trilogy

by G J Ogden

  “Also, the units should deploy with face masks down, and toxin filtration set to maximum, until the environment readings are in the amber zone. The toxicity is higher than anticipated. I recommend we increase the meds by thirty percent.”

  Kurren didn’t immediately respond; he was staring blankly out through the cockpit glass, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Page waited a few seconds more and then tactfully pressed the General for an acknowledgment; Kurren grunted grouchily, and went back to staring out at the city below. Page thought about adding more details, but chose not to further inflame the General’s apparent bad mood, and instead accessed the PVSM built into the left forearm of his armor and began updating and distributing the new orders. He heard Kurren’s PVSM bleep the notification, but Kurren did not check it.

  Increasing the dosage of anti-toxicity meds required manual input, and each soldier was responsible for changing their own rate of supply. Page considered reminding Kurren to adjust his suit, but he was wary of sounding condescending and so joined him in surveying the landscape instead.

  Like others, Page had seen images and holos of the planet’s surface, but seeing it for real was an entirely different experience. He felt emotional, but didn’t know why, and couldn’t even put a finger on all the emotions he was feeling. It could have been wonder, excitement, anticipation, fear or a mix of all these and more, he didn’t know, but the one emotion he certainly was feeling was exhilaration. The rush of the re-entry had been like nothing he’d felt before, but as he took in the warm, orange glow of the sunlight filtering through the cool blue atmosphere, making him feel warmth and chills at the same time, he was totally blown away. Looking out across the rolling hills and plains, he was awed by how unspoiled the planet was, at least in places. He had expected the entire surface to be scorched and barren, like the deserts he had seen in holos, but in this area of the planet, large swathes of land looked completely untouched. Or, perhaps, he wondered, it had somehow healed itself over the many years since the refinery incident. Then there were areas that met his expectations, such as the city they were heading towards, and much of the area stretching out around it, as it was viewed from their position, high in the sky. Sometimes there were sharp boundaries between the green fields and hills and the pockmarked and cratered plains, which looked like two entirely different worlds, crudely spliced together. But, as he looked out towards a nearby mountain, with an oddly flattened, snow covered peak, encircled by a sea of trees that changed subtly from vibrant green to yellow-brown as they stretched out further beyond the foot of the mountain, he could not deny that this world was breathtakingly beautiful.

  “I somehow expected it to be worse,” he said out loud, to no-one in particular. “But in places, it looks completely untouched, as if no-one ever lived here. I can’t believe this planet was once home to billions.”

  This last statement from Page temporarily roused Kurren from his catatonic state. He regarded Page briefly through the corner of his eye, before returning his gaze back toward the city, which was looming large through the cockpit glass.

  “None of it matters now, Major,” Kurren said flatly, “and nor do the people down there. These planetsiders are relics. Once Salus is dealt with, the planet will be ours to conquer.”

  “Yes sir,” Page replied, instinctively, though he continued to be troubled by Kurren’s lack of empathy, and clear disregard for anyone that wasn’t UEC. Conquering the planet certainly wasn’t part of the mission plan, and why would they want to conquer it, anyway?

  “I need to know you’re with me, Major,” Kurren added, catching Page off-guard.

  “Sir?”

  “I need to know you’ll do your duty,” Kurren clarified, still looking ahead. “I need to know that your loyalty is to the UEC, unequivocally.”

  Page looked at Kurren. He was standing perfectly still; his sharp jawline jutted out towards the land below as his narrow eyes slowly scanned the horizon, like a king surveying his realm. He didn’t like the man, he decided, but whatever he thought of this new general, or his orders, he was loyal to the UEC. “Of course, sir. You can count on me.”

  “Good,” said Kurren, in a manner that was as close to enthusiasm as Page had yet heard from him. “Get the men ready to fall out.”

  Page acknowledged the order and then headed aft, navigating down the aisle with a surefooted agility that Kurren lacked. He checked his PVSM; they were coming in fast and, glancing back through the cockpit glass, he could see that they had already descended into the smog kicked up by the impact of the space-station fragment.

  “Three minutes!” he called out to the soldiers strapped into their cage-like seats in two equal rows down each side of the shuttle. “Visors down, combat deployment!”

  The cabin was now being buffeted by the harsher weather outside, and Page had to quickly steady himself against the side of the cabin, before swinging himself back into his own seat and fastening his harness. From a retaining arm above him, he pulled his helmet towards him and then over his head. It secured into his suit and the air-tight seals hissed shut as the helmet locked into the collar of his lustrous blue armor. He looked back towards the cockpit and saw Kurren still standing behind the co-pilot’s chair, gripping it tightly as another shimmy rocked the cabin. Page was about to unfasten his harness again to warn Kurren to sit back down, when the General turned and almost fell down the aisle, managing to catch the edge of his chair just in time. Then, by sheer good fortune, the pilot made a sharp correction, throwing Kurren back into his seat and allowing him to strap in; if the ship had angled in the opposite direction, Kurren would have probably been knocked unconscious against the bulkhead, or otherwise seriously injured. However, despite now being seated safely, Kurren did not attach his helmet to his suit.

  The blackness outside obscured all natural light, and the only illumination was from harsh red lamps, which cast a blood-like glow on Kurren’s face, intensifying the craggy lines in his skin with crimson shadows. An alarm sounded in the cabin, indicating thirty seconds until they would be on the deck; Page gripped the arms of his chair, but was still surprised by the kick of the landing thrusters as they worked to slow their descent velocity, followed shortly afterwards by a heavy thud as the shuttle touched down inside the docking pod. There was a slow whine as the engines powered down, and then the cabin lights turned green. Page unfastened his harness, grabbed his rifle from the stow above his seat and moved quickly to the side hatch, unlocking the door mechanism, ready to deploy. He waited for the eight other soldiers in his squad to stand and recover their weapons, and then hit the door release, immediately stepping out of the way as the ramp hissed down and outwards.

  “Go!” Page called out through the commlink in his helmet, and the unit responded, deploying two-by-two, weapons raised and ready, taking up positions around the shuttle.

  The calls of “Clear!” came in, one by one, and then Page moved out, slung his rifle over his shoulder, feeling it automatically slide into the suit’s magnetic harness, noted the positions of his men, and quickly took stock of the surroundings. The only illumination was from heavily-filtered sunlight through the open launch doors above his head, and was barely enough to see more than ten meters with any clarity. There was a large, open bay door to a corridor that led to the central deck – the hub of the small space port – which was being watched closely by six of the soldiers from Alpha Squad, Page’s lead unit. These were split into pairs, two at either side of the doorway and the third crouched in the center, keeping a close visual down the corridor. The remaining two soldiers from the unit had removed a systems access panel from the wall and were trying to ascertain the status of the space port’s systems and get power back online.

  Kurren appeared on the platform of the shuttle craft, still without his helmet, glanced around the docking bay and began to make his way over to Page’s side, hands pressed behind his back. Page looked at the toxicity readout, which was constantly visible in the corner of his visor feed; it read in the high am
ber range, a level that the suit’s armor and filtration system could handle, but without his helmet, Kurren was risking heavy exposure.

  “Sir, I respectfully advise that you wear your helmet,” said Page, his voice sounding alien and artificial through the mask’s digitizer. “The toxicity levels here are high.”

  “Just concern yourself with the mission, Major,” Kurren replied, tersely. “Has the other ship landed?”

  Kurren’s staunch refusal to listen to his advice was now aggravating Page, but he did not press further. It was unknown what the precise impact of a sudden, heavy dose of radiation would have on the body, even if only planetside for a short time, but the medics had advised against even moderate exposure. Page concluded that the best way to minimize the risk of Kurren being compromised was to focus on getting the mission completed as quickly as possible.

  With his visor down, Page could access his PVSM data through an augmented display generated by the tactical lenses in his helmet, essentially recreating the same effect as a holo, but that only he could see. He manipulated the data feed partly through eye movements and partly by physically reaching into the virtual holo and manipulating it using the sensors in his gloves.

  “The second ship has landed on the western landing pad, outside the main complex and have signaled that they are standing by,” Page said, “but the high levels of toxicity are playing havoc with the suits’ tactical systems. We only have short-range audio comms, and no bio or tactical feed from the other squads. It cuts out beyond around five to ten meters. ”

  “Then adapt, Major,” said Kurren. “I need this facility operational quickly.”

  Page acknowledged the order and left to join the two men who were working on gaining access to the space port’s systems. Kurren waited until Page could no longer see and then quickly accessed the medical section of his PVSM through the manual control panel on his suit’s left arm, and initiated a double-dose of meds. The serum was delivered directly into Kurren’s bloodstream through an automated injector built into the suit’s collar. He groaned as the chemicals flooded into his body, and then shut off the PVSM, quickly checking again that Page had not seen him. When he saw that he was still occupied, he stretched his neck muscles and walked over to join him.

  “Report,” barked Kurren at Page’s back, making him jolt around in surprise.

  “The connection to the backup cells has been severed, sir,” said Page. “We’re going to try splicing the backup line into the shuttle’s reactor. If we fire up the ship on minimal internal power, it should be enough to bring essential systems online.”

  “Very good, Major,” Kurren said. He was impressed with this officer’s calm and quick thinking, though he was careful not to allow any hint of admiration to show in his voice.

  “Delta Squad had the same idea,” said Page. “They’ve already powered up the umbilical link to the western landing pad, which leads directly into the central deck; they are on their way in now.”

  They were interrupted by noises, echoing down the corridor; a series of rapid pops and what sounded like distant shouting. Kurren, Page and the two other soldiers stopped to listen. It came again, more distinct this time, and Page suddenly realized what it was. “That’s weapons fire!” he said, feeling his pulse quicken. He activated his comm and spoke calmly, but urgently. “Beta, Charlie, Delta, report in.”

  There was no response, only static. He tried again, this time more forcefully. “I say again, report in!”, but there was still only static. Page reached over his shoulder, grabbed hold of his rifle and released it from its magnetized mount. He loaded it and removed the safety.

  “Stay here and get the power back online!” he ordered the two men who had been distracted from working on the access panel. Then to Kurren, he added, “Wait here, sir, I’ll check it out,” then he sprinted across to the six other members of his unit, poised by the bay door leading to the central deck.

  Kurren allowed Page to leave without offering comment; he was satisfied with his new second-in-command’s response and was eager to see how he coped under pressure; his first real test, as it were. Like Page, his pulse had also quickened when the distant ripple of gunfire had echoed around the launch pod. But, unlike Page, Kurren had seen combat many times before, and what he was feeling was the adrenalin rush of potential close contact, not fear. He reached over his shoulder, drew down his rifle, loaded it and then walked calmly towards the corridor, watching Page disappear out of view, with the other six members of his unit following closely behind.

  Chapter 16

  The corridor was only wide enough to navigate along in twos, and with power still offline, the ambient light level dropped to almost nothing once Page was only a few meters inside. He stopped, signaling for his unit to halt behind him, and enabled the vision enhancement system in his visor. A faint background of white noise flicked into view for a few seconds and then the system entered a self-diagnostic.

  Come on… Page said to himself, urging the system to work, but when the self-diagnostic finished, it simply flashed up the message, ‘ERROR: SYSTEM INTERFERENCE’. “Damn it!” Page said out loud, and then opened his commlink to the rest of his squad. “Vision enhancement is down; switch on your luminosity systems.”

  With a careful flick of his eyes, Page enabled his suit’s luminosity system, which caused his armor to radiate a cool blue glow in all directions. It wasn’t much, but it was enough that he could see a few meters ahead, albeit dimly. He then enabled the spotlight on his rifle, which shone a bright column of light into the darkness, and signaled for his unit to follow.

  Gunfire resonated down the corridor, and Page again checked the commlink status for the other squads. There was still no connection, so he continued moving forward, sweeping the barrel of his rifle from side to side and scanning for any sign of movement. The mission briefing had prepared him for the prospect of hostile contact and Page had also studied the Planetsider mission, and so was aware of the nature of the danger that might be lurking ahead. Flicking his eyes to the relevant icon, he enabled the motion detection system, hoping this would provide him with at least some forewarning of an attack. It took longer than usual to activate and, after a self-diagnostic cycle, reported only limited functionality.

  He continued on down the passage carefully and methodically, focusing on his breathing and fighting to control his nerves. When he reached the end of the corridor leading out into the central deck, his visor picked up motion, highlighted as a shimmering red outline directly in his field of view. Page froze and held up a clenched fist; he heard the scrunch of blue boots behind him as the rest of his unit also stopped suddenly. Page raised his weapon, probing into the space ahead with the spotlight, but the narrow beam showed nothing but boxes, walls and consoles. Then three faint red outlines shimmered directly ahead. He turned the spotlight to each of their locations, but the view was obscured by debris; what looked like a portion of the roofing structure had collapsed in, possibly a result of the shock waves from the impact in the city. Page’s heart began to thump solidly in his chest; they were in a bad position, stuck in a choke point with barely any visibility and no way to know what was coming. Five red outlines now lit up in his visor, definitely getting closer, maybe twenty meters or less. The sound of gunfire ricocheted around the large central deck and he heard screaming.

  Turning to face his squad, Page used hand-signals to send the unit forward, three left and three right. He stayed low as they moved past with their weapons raised, and then he entered the central deck, taking cover behind a column of rubble. Ahead there was more gunfire and more anguished cries were heard. They advanced again, Page taking the lead and moving swiftly to the next point of cover. Seven columns of light swept the area ahead, slicing through the darkness, trying to highlight the enemy. Page saw nothing, but heard the mix of shouts and cries, and guttural growls, which sent shivers throughout his body.

  Wary of fully committing the entire squad without knowing what lay ahead, Page moved up alone, takin
g cover behind a large circular obelisk that would have been the space port’s central information display board. He crouched and peeked around the edge of the obelisk, sweeping the spotlight left and right, and then he saw it, barely ten meters away, crouched over a body. Page lowered the spotlight and caught the unmistakable, mineral-like glint of the UEC’s blue armor. His heart thumped harder and faster as he slowly moved the beam of light along the body until, just below the waist, the glint was gone; the legs had been torn away. Page raised the weapon again, focusing on the thing crouched above it, tearing at the flesh of the soldier below; it was not a man or a woman, but something that perhaps could have been either, a long time ago. He had seen holos of these things, and so had considered himself prepared, but the reality was like a punch to the gut. The Planetsider mission report had referred to them as ‘the maddened’, but the UEC’s official designation was, ‘the deformed’. It was the name given to those who had suffered intense genetic deformation as a result of prolonged, high exposure to the toxic orrum radiation.

  The creature turned its head and stared blankly at Page through gloss-black eyes, and despite his training, despite his preparations, he was gripped by fear. The thing held Page’s gaze for a split second and then charged at him with inhuman speed, covering half the distance between them before Page could react to the threat. He rocked back and squeezed the trigger, firing a sporadic, frenzied burst, and then another, barely registering where the shots were directed. He braced and pressed his eyes tightly shut, expecting the thing to collide with him at any moment, but when he felt nothing, he forced his eyes open to see it sprawled on the metal deck plating, a thick dark red blood oozing from its wounds.

  Page scrambled to his feet, fighting the urge to flee, and raised his weapon again, scanning ahead with the torchlight in a frantic attempt to identify others. There was distant gunfire and screams came from the hallway opposite and he jerked his rifle in that direction. And then, to his horror, he realized that the corridor was the one that led to the western landing pad, where the second UEC ship had set down.