Last Stand on Talos Seven

by Rodney Hartman

  “Maybe we should’ve waited for the transport to get loaded and come with the others,” Anna said not at all liking how close Connor was getting to a twenty-meter drop at the edge of the path.

  A part of the rocky trail gave way causing the hover-tank to jerk to the left. Anna slammed into Connor nearly knocking him out of his part of the seat. The tank skidded even further to the left. All Anna could see out of the driver’s view screen was air and a long drop.

  Connor jerked the control levers to the right. The path came back into view on the screen.

  “Sorry,” Anna said, fear making the word come out harsher than intended. “Maybe I should move.”

  Connor laughed seemingly unaffected by the near calamity.

  Anna had a sudden thought that he had a nice laugh. I wonder why I didn’t used to think that? His laugh always irritated me before.

  “Move where?” asked Connor. “My dozer’s got more room than this thing, and it was only designed for a crew of one.”

  Glancing around the cramped space inside the tank, Anna had to admit he was right. The mine’s dozer actually did have more room. She grinned. “Well, you’ve got to give me credit for offering?”

  Connor’s face turned slightly red. Anna supposed it could be reflected light from the control panel, but she wasn’t sure.

  “I’ll always give you credit,” said Connor. He looked at her and gave a timid smile before turning back to the driver’s view screen.

  What’s with him? Anna wondered. He’s been acting strange the last few days.

  Before she could figure it out, Wizard Scout Trinity’s voice came over the intercom.

  “Take the tank around that boulder and stop. My passive scan’s picking up someone at the mine,”

  Anna checked the sensor readout on the driver’s heads-up display. Sure enough, a white blip marked the location of a vehicle parked near her drill. She pressed the zoom icon. The outline of what looked like a hover-truck appeared in the display. One white dot appeared to be inside the cargo area of the truck while another stood outside.

  The light hover-tank’s engine quieted to a soft hum as Connor brought the vehicle to a stop behind a house-sized boulder.

  “Anna,” said Trinity. “I want you in the gunner’s seat. Wizard Scout Trevor and I will go check things out. We’ll call you when it’s safe to come down.”

  Connor twisted in his seat to look back at the wizard scout. “Are you sure you don’t want us to co—”

  “I said stay here. Trevor and I can handle it.” Trinity winked and gave a smile. “We are wizard scouts after all.” Nodding at Wizard Scout Trevor, Trinity said, “Even if one of us is old, disabled, and half senile.”

  Trevor laughed. “You shouldn’t talk about yourself like that, Trinity.” She smiled at Anna. “To tell you the truth, I feel young today. I haven’t felt this way in a long time.”

  Wizard Scout Trinity dropped her smile. “Well, don’t get too cocky. Your Power reserve isn’t what it used to be, so be careful. I doubt we’ll be doing any fighting, but if we do, leave the brunt of it to me. My reserve’s solid.”

  Trevor grinned. “Yes, Mommy. In the meantime, see if you can keep up with this old woman.”

  With that, Trevor popped the hatch at the top of the turret and scrambled out.

  Trinity shook her head and smiled. “Kids. What can you do?” Giving a final nod, Trinity levitated out of the turret and took off after Trevor.

  Once the two wizard scouts were gone, Anna took Trinity’s place in the gunner’s seat and closed the hatch. She’d had a few hours training in the light hover-tanks the previous week, so the controls were semi-familiar to her. The light tank had two weapons; an 88mm phase cannon, and twin 20mm auto-rifles. A phase round for the main gun was already loaded in the phase cannon. Anna made sure a second round was in the autoloader before turning her attention to the auto-rifles. Belts of two hundred high-density slugs were locked into the breeches. She glanced at the extra ammo on board. She spotted two more belts of high-density slugs. Tucked into a corner were two additional belts of 20mm phase rounds designed for use against light armor.

  Anna reached for the 20mm phase rounds with the intent of switching them with the high-density slugs. No, she thought. I’d better not. Phase rounds are expensive, and we don’t have a source of resupply. Solid slugs will have to do.

  Connor glanced back at her from the driver’s seat. “Do you think they’ll be all right? Trinity and Trevor, I mean.”

  “Of course. They’re wizard scouts. Besides, it’s probably just a couple of the miners showing up early for their shift.”

  Connor looked at his wrist-timer and frowned. “At five-thirty in the morning? And they just happened to park beside our hole?”

  Anna shrugged. “It could happen.” She glanced at the gunner’s heads-up display to make sure the hover-truck and the two people near their hole hadn’t moved. “I’ll admit the odds are low, but it could happen.”

  “Yeah, right. And I’ve got some swamp land near town I’ll sell you real cheap.”

  Anna bit back a laugh. There wasn’t a single acre of swamp land on the entire planet. “No time for jokes,” she said. “I think something’s going on. Why don’t you try to work the tank closer to the mine’s rim. I don’t have a field of fire from here.”

  “Wizard Scout Trinity said to wait here.”

  “Well, Trinity isn’t here now, and Talos isn’t her planet. If something’s getting ready to go down, I want to be in a position to do something about it.”

  Connor revved the hover-fans up. “All right, but I think you’re making a mistake.”

  This time Anna was the one who laughed. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Now move this hunk of steel before we miss out on whatever’s going to happen.”

  Chapter 20 – Crosoian Scout

  _______________________

  The Crosoian scout teleported next to the hover-truck a mere wingspan from the potbellied human that was the pirates’ contact on Talos. The scout ignored the startled human as she made sure her best stealth shield was in place. It was. Reaching out to the rim of the pit mine with her passive scan, the scout made sure the area was clear. As far as she could tell, the quivering human next to the hover-truck and a second human inside the cargo compartment were the only living things larger than a few rats and snakes in the mine.

  “Merge the results of my scan with your electronic scan,” the scout said in the part of her mind she shared with her fighting-computer, Mykias. “I don’t trust humans.”

  “You do not trust anyone,” replied Mykias. “My electronic scan is inconclusive. Enough titanium dust is scattered in the soil and rock around our location to block all but the shortest electronic sensor scans. Based upon the results of your passive scan, I calculate a seventy-three percent probability the two humans at the truck are the only life forms in the area that you need to worry about. I recommend—”

  The Crosoian scout felt her chest grow warm beneath her fighting-suit. “You recommend nothing. You will only do as ordered. I am the scout. You are my fighting-computer.”

  “Ah, of course,” hissed Mykias. “How could I have forgotten? What would you have me do, oh mightiest of scouts?”

  The heat in the scout’s chest grew even warmer. She gnashed her fangs together, but said nothing further.

  I’ll deal with my fighting-computer’s insubordination later, she decided, keeping the thought in the private part of her mind. Temporarily forgetting about her fighting-computer, she turned to the potbellied man and spread her wings to show who was in charge.

  “Where are the samples, human?” she hissed. Gibberish, which she knew was intergalactic standard, came out of her fighting-helmet’s external speaker as Mykias translated her words into something the human could understand.

  The man’s eyes grew large as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a half-dozen pieces of metal the size of the scout’s smallest claw. He held them out in his hand.

  Wra
pping the pieces of metal with Power, the scout levitated them to her paw. She pulled Power from her reserve and formed an active scan. As soon as she touched the metal with her scan, the scout’s ears twitched.

  It is true, she thought. The titanium is nearly one hundred percent pure. If the vein this comes from is large, it could provide an abundant supply of titanium for our war effort. The humans would be hard pressed to keep pace with our production of creallium.

  “I calculate only a point-zero-zero-five percent probability that titanium this pure could be found as a mineable ore,” said Mykias. “If you were to ask for my recommendation oh greatest of scouts, I would advise you to check out the vein for yourself. As you have often said, humans cannot be trusted.”

  “I did not ask for your opinion,” the scout said, mentally kicking herself for not keeping her thoughts in her private space.

  “I did not mean to imply that you did,” said Mykias. “I merely said that if you had asked me, then that is what my advice would be. Of course, you are the scout, so I am sure you will do as you like. I must point out though that I calculate a seventy-five percent probability other humans will be arriving at the mine within the hour. According to the master computer, the pirates’ scout ship is making its last hyper-jump now. It should arrive to pick you up in twenty minutes. Whatever you decide to do, you may want to do it quickly.”

  The scout’s chest grew hot enough that her fighting-suit’s environmental unit had trouble keeping the temperature under control. She knew Mykias was right, but she would never admit it. Ignoring her fighting-computer, she turned to the human and pointed at the door to the truck’s cargo bay.

  “Who is inside?”

  “My son,” replied the potbellied man. “He won’t give you any trouble. You have the samples. I was promised a reward. When will you be taking my family and me off this rotten planet?”

  The scout hissed in derision. “Pathetic human. You will get your reward. I am a Crosoian scout, and we always keep our word. I must verify the ore vein for myself. Where is it?”

  The human pointed at a meter-sized opening at the base of the cliff face. A canvas tarp lay on the ground nearby. “It’s down there.”

  Forming an active scan, the scout reached into the hole. Before she could probe more than ten meters, her scan weakened. Within another five meters, the scan disappeared completely.

  “It’s the titanium in the soil,” said Mykias in the scout’s shared space. “It is more concentrated in the shaft. I calculate you will need to go down the hole and verify the vein with your own ears.”

  The scout sent a sonic wave at the opening. When the wave bounced back, she compared the size of the opening to the widest point of her shoulders. Even with her wings pulled as tight on her back as possible, she knew it would be a tight fit.

  “You could deactivate your fighting-suit,” suggested Mykias. “That would save you enough clearance to squeeze through the hole.”

  The scout’s ears twitched. The fur along her spine stiffened. The thought of descending down the tightfitting hole did not appeal to her. She had always been a little claustrophobic. Forcing her phobia to the side, the scout thought the command to deactivate her fighting-suit. The tough armor shimmered before transforming into a material resembling the skin on her wings more than it did hardened armor.

  “Are you going down the hole?” asked the potbellied human. “I could hook up a rope for you using the truck’s winch if you’d like.”

  The scout snorted. Flecks of mucus splattered across the human’s face. “Keep your mouth shut, human. Crosoian scouts do not need help.” She stepped toward the hole before turning around. “If this is a trick, I swear I will rip your heart out.”

  Beads of sweat popped out on the human’s forehead. “No trick. It’s no trick. You’ll see for yourself. The vein’s there.”

  Turning back to the hole, the scout tightened her wings against her back and hopped into the opening. The noise of the stone rushing by filled her ears. She reached out with an active scan gauging the distance to the bottom of the hole. The scan returned nothing.

  “The max range of your scan in this hole is fifteen meters,” said Mykias. “Your timing will need to be perfect. I can help you land if you like.”

  “I need no help,” the scout hissed. “I am a—”

  The active scan pinged against a jagged stone floor.

  “Fifteen meters; twelve; nine,” said her fighting-computer.

  Wrapping herself with Power, the scout pulled up with telekinesis. Her rate of descent slowed, but not enough. As her lower foot-paws hit the ground, her knees buckled.

  Crack!

  Pain shot up the scout’s right leg, buckling under the force of the impact. Her forehead slammed into the side of the hole.

  “You have broken your right leg,” said Mykias. “You also have a slight concussion. I calculate your self-heal will repair your injuries in fourteen seconds.”

  The scout waited for her fighting-computer to add some flippant remark. It did not. Rising on her left leg, the scout braced her paw against the side of the hole. She felt metal.

  It is the ore vein, she thought.

  Reaching out with an active scan, she probed the vein. It was a full meter wide and rose out of hearing above. Wrapping the vein with Power, she probed downward. The vein went down a full hundred meters and spread out twenty meters at its widest point.

  “How deep into the stone does the vein go horizontally?” the scout asked.

  “Hmm, good question,” replied Mykias. “Your active scan does not work efficiently down here. Perhaps you can use a sonic scan to guesstimate the distance.”

  Feeling her chest grow warm at the thought of her fighting-computer suggesting something she should have thought of herself, the scout flattened her right ear against the stone and sent a pulse of sound into the vein. When the sonic vibrations returned, she bared her fangs in a smile.

  “The vein goes deep,” she told her fighting-computer. “Inform the master computer. I have heard enough. Once the pirates’ scout ship arrives, we will return to the fleet with the samples and our scan results.”

  “I detect possible danger above, Scout” said Mykias. “Listen to the side waves of your scan on the vein. I am picking up vibrations from a hover-vehicle of some kind near the mine’s rim. I calculate an eighty-seven percent probability it is a light-hover tank of unknown origin. Recommend—”

  The Crosoian scout didn’t wait for a recommendation. She wrapped her body in Power and levitated up the hole. The stone whizzed by fast enough to scrap skin off her wings. She didn’t care. Her self-heal would take care of any injuries, the same way it had already healed her broken leg. A few scrapes and bruises meant little to her. She needed to get to the surface fast.

  Popping out of the opening, the scout activated her fighting-suit. The leathery material instantaneously hardened into the toughest armor Crosoian technicians could devise. As she levitated to the ground, the potbellied human turned toward her.

  “You’re back,” said the human. “I told you I was telling—”

  “Betrayer,” the scout hissed. “Did you think I would not detect the approach of your friends? Here is the only reward you deserve.”

  Unfolding her right wing, the scout spun, sinking the half-meter-long point at her wing joint into the traitor’s chest. The human’s eyes widened as he opened his mouth as if to speak. Only blood flowed out. As the man’s body began to fall, the scout jerked back with her wing. The human’s heart came out with the wing point. Flinging the bloody piece of meat aside, the scout ran toward the point on the rim where she detected the sonic vibrations of the hover-tank.

  Whoever they are, they shall die, thought the scout. My ship will be here soon. I will not let the crew of the tank interfere with my return to the fleet.

  Grabbing a meter-long shaft of metal that was attached to her left hip, the scout extended her phase spear to its full two-meter length and activated it in destructive mode. Gr
een bolts of phase energy ran up and down the spear’s creallium point as if eager for the taste of flesh.

  “Activating your phase spear may have given away your position to the tank crew,” said Mykias in the scout’s shared space. “I highly recommend you summon an antitank weapon from your dimensional pouch. You would hate for the tank to get in a lucky shot and destroy the pirates’ scout ship when it is coming in on short final. The titanium dust prevents your extraction by teleport. You need the scout ship to get off the planet.”

  The scout snorted. She didn’t even bother lowering her helmet’s sonic display over her eyes. “I am a Crosoian scout and a time-commando at that. I need only my phase spear to take out a measly light hover-tank. The tank and its crew will be a burning pile of scrap metal long before the pirates’ scout ship arrives.”

  When her fighting-computer did not argue further, the scout concentrated on making the fastest time to the point on the rim where she knew the hover-tank would soon appear. Once she reached the base of the cliff below the rim, she wrapped herself in Power in preparation for levitating up the cliff.

  “Too bad you have your fighting-suit activated,” said Mykias. “If it was in deactivated mode, you would be able to fly to the top of the cliff using your wings instead of wasting Power.”

  The scout hissed a laugh. “My Power reserve is large. I do not need to conserve—”

  “Incoming,” warned her fighting-computer. “Nine o’clock.”

  While the scout might argue with her fighting-computer at times, she was no fool. Heeding Mykias advice had saved her life on more occasions than she could count. The scout took the Power she’d wrapped around her body in preparation for levitating up the cliff and converted it into a defensive shield on her left side. The shield formed just in time to deflect a series of red tracers into the sky.

  “Phase rounds,” said Mykias. “They are not from the hover-tank. I calculate they are from the type of Deloris Armaments phase pistols that are favored by Empire wizard scouts.”