“I speak the language almost as well as Basic, and I cover any sub-dialects created by different clan heritages.”
“What about Gralyyk?”
“I can do that, but it makes my throat raw after a while.”
“And Jagon?”
“Easy. Bass pitches and sign language.”
“Albiac?”
What happened next sent chills down Nathen’s spine.
He listened, dumbstruck, as the chirps, clicks and whistles of a Stelkan’s natural tongue came flowing out of the demure Calico’s pursed lips. Nathen recalled hearing identical, birdsong-like voices, shrieking orders and screaming directions to platoons of bloodthirsty Yew troops as they converged…
Nathen blinked, shaking his head and snapping back to the present. That had caught him off guard. Calico was clearing her throat, swallowing to moisten her mouth like someone does after whistling. Nathen could barely believe his ears. They were unsettlingly-genuine sounds she had reproduced, and Nathen was one to know. A little shocked, Nathen looked away.
“Okay, good enough. I’m convinced.” Nathen turned his back on Calico. “Come on. There's something we need to pick up.”
Chapter 7
It took them a good fifteen minutes to get through to customs. Nathen had to work his way through an intolerably-difficult customs agent just to get in the door. From Nathen’s ID, which was perfectly legit, to his shoulder-holstered Denchura, which admittedly wasn't registered, the customs agent had to pick every little thing apart. The needless harassment ended when Nathen summoned the agent’s superior. Nathen pulled the superior aside, and two whispered sentences were all it took to convince the man to fully cooperate. The superior walked back to the agent and tersely gave his orders. Baffled, the agent let them through, still mumbling that a retired Marine had no business in the restricted section of the spaceport. Nathen ignored him once they were through the gate.
“What are we doing here, sir?” asked Calico.
“I mentioned before that your uniform isn’t quite in accordance with our dress code. So, we’re performing an age-old ritual, dating back to ancient times of civilization.”
Calico showed a spark of interest. “What’s that?”
Nathen stopped and nodded toward a door marked ‘Processing Chamber #4’. “We’re going shopping.”
Nathen, hefting Calico’s duffel bag in his hand, headed for the door. Calico followed in silent befuddlement. Nathen stopped in front of the door and pounded three times. Several seconds later, the intercom clicked on.
“Who’s there?”
“Open up. Chronos sends his regards.”
There was a pause before the door slid aside.
“Step inside. Slowly.”
Nathen cast Calico a meaningful look, silently telling her to follow the directions. They stepped inside, where the lighting was more subdued. Nathen’s head turned to his side, where he saw a man by the door controls. He held a Casper .45 caliber sub-machine gun in his hands, but when he saw Nathen, he let the muzzle drop toward the floor. He let Nathen and Calico step all the way inside, and then he thumbed the door controls. With an electric hum and the hiss of pistons the door sealed behind them shutting them in.
The lights glowed brighter until the room’s shadows were chased away, and Nathen saw not one but two men in the room with them. The second one was sitting back in the corner, a Coyote assault rifle in his lap. There was a cigarette smoldering in an ash tray on a drop-down table, next to a portable vidscreen which was currently paused. The room was ten by fifteen meters, and over a quarter of that space was filled with boxes and crates. Once the door was shut and the lights were turned up, the guard with the Casper let loose a sigh.
“We’ve been expecting you,” he said. The guard walked over and dropped the Casper with a clatter onto the table, next to the paused vidscreen. “Weren’t sure when, but here you are. And who’s this?”
Nathen glanced at Calico. “New girl. She’s cleared, so it’s alright to talk in front of her. Is everything here?”
“Yeah,” said the guard. “Got the tungsten/sabot rounds in those boxes by the door. Everything else is here, too. Wasn’t easy keeping customs quiet on this.”
“What about the suit?” Nathen asked. That was the most important thing. The guard exchanged a brief glance with his friend in the corner, who never said a word the whole time. The guard turned back to Nathen and nodded toward the center of the stacked crates.
“S’right there.”
Nathen dropped Calico’s duffel on the floor and stepped over, kneeling down and shifting crates aside. The guard helped, lifting boxes away so Nathen could get to the large crate at the bottom. Calico stood back, watching slack jawed.
“Omigosh, there’s more weapons and ordinance here than in the armory at Fort Bandish! What is all this stuff?”
“Tools of the trade,” grunted Nathen, hefting the last crate into the guard’s arms. “And then some.”
Nathen pulled back, staring at the crate lying in front of him. Unlike all the other crates, which were stenciled with labels or the insignias of manufacturers, this crate bore a simple symbol.
The sword and shield of the ESCs.
Nathen popped the clasps and lifted a panel covering a 10-key pad. It took him only a second to punch in the code he’d memorized. After he finished the code, a second panel unlatched, and Nathen flipped that open. There was a hand scanner beneath. Nathen removed his glove and fitted his hand into the outline, which glowed and read his palm. The scanner blipped and turned off, and Nathen closed both panels. It wasn’t until the panels had closed that Nathen heard the electro-magnetic locks disengage from the four corners of the crate.
Nathen ran an un-gloved hand through his hair, then grabbed the two nearest corners of the lid and lifted, carefully.
He paused, taking a second to admire the priceless element before him. Very few people knew that what Nathen was looking at even existed. It was an alloy that was as rare and invaluable as the ESCs it belonged to. It had a distinctive metallic sheen to it, but the texture was flawlessly smooth. Nathen reached down with his bare hand and ran his fingers across its surface.
Despite its solid appearance, the alloy gave under Nathen’s touch. More than that, it flowed. Nathen dragged his fingers backwards through the alloy, feeling the cold metal slide past his fingers like water. Finally, Nathen lifted his hand, pulling his fingers out of the crate but letting them hang down. The strange, unearthly alloy didn’t cling to his fingers like mud, or fall off like water. It molded, hugging his skin until Nathen could practically see the folds of skin on his knuckles. Then, before his eyes, the smooth alloy slid from his fingers and poured back into the crate. Nathen nodded in approval, noting there wasn’t a hint of residue on his fingers.
This was the Zen alloy.
Nathen left the lid open and turned to the guard. “Where’s the dermasuit case?”
The guard pulled a briefcase-sized case from the stacks of crates and held it out to Nathen. “Right here.”
Nathen took the case and set it down on the floor. He gripped the handle and waited. Like the larger crate that held the Zen alloy, the smaller briefcase was secured by a hand scanner. It was less obvious, built into the handle. If anyone unauthorized tried to pop the latches, two things would happen. First, the holder would receive a 100,000 volt shock. Then, the disintegration failsafe would trigger, and the contents of the case would be destroyed by the introduction of microscopic nanites.
So, needless to say, Nathen mentally crossed his fingers when he flicked the latch.
The case cracked open without incident, and Nathen released the handle, popping the lid and opening it all the way. Filling three quarters of the case was a folded suit that wasn’t like any woven material in use—except by the ESCs—and it bore no resemblance to conventional armor, either. Nathen left that alone and went to the remaining quarter of the case that wasn’t taken up by the suit. In this section there were three things: a form-fi
tted headset, a flat rectangular optical visor, and a shield-shaped comm. unit identical to Nathen’s. Nathen took out the rectangular visor and the comm. unit, leaving the headset, and then closed the case. He turned and with an underhanded toss delivered the comm. unit to Calico.
“Catch.”
Calico, to her credit, didn’t flinch back from the projectile like Nathen had thought she might. She reached out and caught it out of the air, turning it over in her hands and examining it. She held it up on her fingertips.
“What’s this?”
“Just hang onto that for now,” said Nathen, turning the spectacles around in his hands so they were facing forwards. He turned and addressed the guard. “Dim the lights.”
“Yes sir.”
The guard walked over to the wall and slid his finger over the light panel. The lights shimmered and diminished, casting the room back into shadows. Nathen looked at the large open crate with the Zen alloy still inside, though he could barely distinguish it now. Nathen snapped the visor open like a pair of reading glasses and held it up to his eyes.
The difference was breathtaking. Before, Nathen had barely been able to see the liquid alloy. Now, looking through the specialized visor, Nathen saw the aura. The alloy gave off an invisible glow; invisible, that is, unless seen through a special visor like Nathen had now. Nathen ran his fingers through the alloy again, watching it ripple. The clear, ghostly aura hardly changed. Nathen nodded, satisfied, and removed his hand from the crate, folding the visor closed.
“You can turn the lights on now.”
The lights came back on and Nathen tucked the visor spectacles back into the case. The guard walked back over, ready for his next instructions. Nathen closed the case and made sure the safety re-activated before returning it to the guard.
“It’s legit,” he said, despite having very few doubts to the contrary in the first place. The guard grinned for a brief second, then his face went serious again.
“Now, how are we going to get this all to Haven Alpha discretely?”
“It won’t be a problem,” said Nathen, closing the lid on the Zen alloy’s case. There was an audible tone as the safety locks re-engaged. “I’ll send over several of Haven Alpha’s hangar techs with a luggage train. There are a good number of those floating around. No one’s going to raise an eyebrow at that.”
“Alright. We’ll start piling this stuff for extraction. When can we expect the techs to get here?”
Nathen answered by pulling his comm. unit out of his inside pocket, thumbing it on and keyeing the mic.
“Haven Alpha, this is Knight. Come in, over.”
“Aye, Commander. This is the Captain. I read you.”
“Hey, Captain. Could you do me a favor and send about, say, four of your hangar techs over here to customs with a luggage train? Try and keep it low-key. Some of the customs agents here have a stick up their rears and I’d like to avoid attention while moving this very sensitive merchandise.”
“Understood. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks. ETA?”
“About twenty minutes. Give us a margin for error with getting that luggage train.”
“Roger that. I’ll be heading back to the mobile headquarters in just a minute. See you soon. Knight, out.”
Nathen keyed the mic off and dropped the comm. unit back inside his jacket. “You catch that?” he asked the guard.
“Yeah, we got it. We’ll be ready for the transfer crew when they arrive.”
Nathen shook the guard’s hand and gave an affirmative nod to the silent rifleman in the corner, who nodded in return. He bent over to pick up the duffel bag and motioned to Calico.
“Alright, let’s go. Our part’s done.”
Outside the room, Calico was silent in contemplation as the two exited customs and headed off through the crowds. Nathen steered them toward Docking Dome #12, weaving between the bodies as they circled the central pyramid to the other side of the Dome. With no more stops to make, they made it to the umbilical by 06:34. Just outside the entrance, Calico suddenly stopped. Nathen stopped and turned, patiently. After a moment’s silence, Calico finally spoke, a sense of wonder in her voice.
“This is for real.”
Nathen nodded. “Yeah, it is.”
Calico stared at the floor. “I’m… I’m not sure I’m worthy.”
Nathen hesitated before answering, picking his words as he viewed the uncertainty in the young translator's eyes.
“There are a lot of questions, I know,” he said, sympathetically. “I had a few myself when I was chosen. It’s easy to wonder if you’re good enough, and the uncertainty can be a bother. But right now, at the beginning, there’s only one question that needs answering.”
Calico looked up at Nathen. “What’s that?”
Nathen met her youthful green eyes and arched an eyebrow.
“Are you willing to try?”
Calico seemed lost in thought for a moment, eyes dropping down to the ground. Nathen waited, wondering what thoughts were going through her mind. Then, with a steady nod, Calico looked back up.
“I am. I’ll give my best, and beyond.”
Nathen smiled, warmly. “Then you’re off to a good start.”
He motioned into the umbilical leading to the docking domes with his free hand. Calico took a deep breath, shucked her backpack onto her shoulders, and stepped in.
***
Gladius Dome had tens of thousands of people roaming under its massive curved shell. There were thousands of civilians waiting for their next shuttle out of the system as well as thousands of military personnel sorting between transfers. Some were Naval spacemen, getting some “ground time”. Many more were soldiers waiting to re-deploy. About a thousand were armed starport security. Thousands more were workers and techs bustling about like worker bees in a hive.
So it was easy to understand why, when Nathen felt the familiar little buzz in the back of his mind, he didn’t immediately see the man with the bandaged face watching him from behind the information kiosk.
The stalker stayed well away from the terminal, but he never let his target out of his sight, even for an instant. Through the shifting masses, the stalker saw Nathen suspiciously sweep the crowd with his eyes, but the tail was careful to remain unseen. After a second’s hesitation, Nathen turned his back on the interior of the monumental dome, entered the umbilical leading to the smaller docking domes, and followed the red-headed girl.
The stalker waited until he saw them enter the right corridor, then squinted, trying to read the words above the umbilical. His face stung beneath the contact bandages and the stalker flinched, still sore from the horrid slap the Squlasher Guardian had given him. He silently snarled as he read the sign above the terminal.
Docking Dome #12.
The stalker turned and pulled out a civilian com radio. He thumbed it on and held it to his ear, waiting for it to connect to another similarly encrypted com radio. After a second, there was a confirming voice on the other end.
“Patch me through to the top. I’ve got priority intel.”
The stalker’s eyes shifted deviously toward the terminal the commandos had entered.
“Trust me. He’ll want to hear this.”
Chapter 8
“Why did we stop here, sir?” asked Calico. “What’s wrong?”
Nathen leaned with his elbow against the door leading to the hangar. They were just inside the docking dome’s inner airlock. Nathen rested his other hand on his hip.
“I need to lay down some ground rules.” He held up a finger. “First: You are not Infantry anymore. You aren’t even a soldier. You’re an Elite Stellar Commando. And ESC’s do not exist, officially or publicly. Everything you hear is top secret. Understand?”
Calico nodded, slowly. Nathen held up another finger.
“Second: Our resources and capabilities are far less limited than standard armed forces. You’re going to be using stuff the rest of the galaxy doesn’t even know the Human race possesse
s. That’s even more classified. So everything you see is top secret. Clear?”
Calico nodded, eagerly. Nathen held up a third finger.
“Third: The ESCs have freedom, but we also have a duty. We will be going places others wouldn’t even think about going. A lot of these places are behind lines that shouldn’t normally be crossed. And regardless of where we go, they will all be dangerous. Our limited command structure can deny any involvement with us should the worst happen. And so, everything you do is top secret. Alright?”
Calico didn’t nod right away. She was thinking hard about it.
“So basically,” she said. “I’m involved in the most powerful commando team that never existed?”
Nathen nodded. “Pretty much.”
Calico took a deep breath and let it out. “It’s clear, sir.”
Nathen pushed off the door and hit the release switch. The airlock hissed and pulled up into the ceiling. As it did, Nathen turned to Calico once more.
“Then hold onto your hat. This is going to be an exhilarating experience.”
The airlock door finished opening, and Nathen grabbed Calico’s duffel bag and stepped onto the metal catwalk overlooking the hangar. Calico followed, and together they walked toward the metal staircase at the other end of the walkway. Nathen stopped halfway and turned to face the hangar.
“Welcome to your new home,” Nathen said. “Haven Alpha.”
And there it was: the amazing space-faring vessel that was the ESCs base of operations. The sterling-white Haven class mobile headquarters was a prototype, unlike any other vessel in the Human armada. It was the size of a frigate, approximately 30,000 tons of starship grade titanium, ceramics, and cyber-steel. And it flew like an angel. That could be credited to the four sublight ion thruster-engines that took up most of the rear section. Most frigates didn’t have more than three. For their high-performance and tremendous power generation capacity, the engines took up a humble amount of space in the hull. That was thanks to Haven Alpha’s state-of-the-art catalyst core. Frigates, being support ships by design, ran off of reactive engines fueled by ion cells. Haven Alpha had its own singularity reactor, which is something only destroyers, cruisers, carriers and battleships had. That meant Haven Alpha could go anywhere, without having to stop and re-fuel.
Prime Alpha (Planetary Powers Book 1) Page 8