Precursor Revenants (The Precursor Series Book 1)

by Cain Hopwood

  A Ka-Li hand reached for the com-pod.

  A moment later the doors slid apart. Zoomed in on his target, all he could see were two pairs of feet.

  “All squads go!”

  Jon squeezed the trigger and his ARX-70 barked. A fraction of a second later, Peggy squeezed off her shot. Before he’d even confirmed the hit, he was hunting for his next target. He panned up and left, tracking upwards from the feet in the upper edge of his scope.

  The Ka-Li coming through the door had halted and was starting to turn, but the moment Jon’s reticle reached the guard’s center of mass he squeezed off another round.

  The guard crumpled. He was right in the door track, but he started crawling back into the access tunnel.

  “Target one down, target two wounded,” said Ingles.

  Jon put another two rounds into the Ka-Li but they were just body shots, he couldn’t get a clear shot at its head.

  “Watch it, runners inbound,” said Ingles, the urgency in his voice was palpable.

  Jon lifted his head to get a better view of the situation. Sure enough, Bakowski and Murdoch were racing towards the door. He had no choice but to stop firing for fear of hitting them.

  Bakowski hurdled a barrier, and Murdoch vaulted off it, trying to get some extra speed. They bolted past the two dead guards and headed for the door.

  But, the door was already sliding closed.

  Both soldiers put on a prodigious burst of speed, but just as they reached the doors they slid shut, chopping the guard Jon had shot in half.

  They were too late.

  — 59 —

  Colonel Whitfield jogged up to the access way door. Bakowski was standing in a pool of Ka-Li blood and poking the bottom half of a guard with her boot.

  “It’s not coming back, not from that,” he said.

  Bakowski’s tone was stoic. “Just checking sir, with what we’ve seen lately, I’m not going to take anything for granted.”

  “Can’t argue with that.” He pointed at the corpse, sliced in half by the now closed door. “I didn’t expect the door to do that either, don’t these people believe in safety systems?”

  “I’m guessing he hit the emergency close. He was reaching for something inside, when the door snapped shut.”

  “Looks like we’re going with plan B then.”

  “Explosives, sir? I don’t think we have enough, did you see how thick the doors are?”

  “I did. But no, they’re plan C. I meant the drone.” The colonel motioned Skip over. “Levin, tell me you got that drone inside.”

  “I did sir, and we’ve still got contact.”

  “Good. What do we have?”

  “Well sir, let’s see.” Skip tapped on his wrist controls. “It looks like we have one and a half dead guards on the other side, and a control panel.”

  “Complex?”

  “Looks easy enough, no keypad at least, so it may not even be coded. Hopefully, the admiral knows what to do with it.”

  The colonel grunted. “Except, how are we going to show him. I don’t suppose anyone has a flexi?”

  A quick call around confirmed that no, no one had a flexi. But, they managed to describe the panel in sufficient detail to the admiral, and he explained how to operate it with the swallow drone’s manipulator.

  Just as Skip was about to open the door, the colonel held up a hand. “Hold on, it wouldn’t surprise me if these doors are monitored. We can’t leave them open long, and we should only go through the once.”

  Admiral Katona spoke up. “Your colonel is correct, these outer doors can be controlled from the lower operations floor. The centarch wouldn’t see, but a functionary could. If they are in a heightened state of alert, that might trigger an investigation.”

  “Exactly,” said the colonel. “So I want everyone straight before we go in.”

  The plan was simple. The centarch’s chair was at the apex of the nexus —the starship’s center of operations— which itself stretched between the gap in the two habitation chambers like a giant starfish.

  It was this, surrounded by the purple doyenne, that they’d seen earlier off in the distance when they’d been passing between chambers. The arms of the nexus stretched out, connecting it to both habitation chambers at several points. They were the access ways to the nexus. It was in front of the doors to one of these that they now stood.

  And to ensure the admiral could confront the centarch without being overrun by guards, they would have to secure all the other access ways. Or at least, deny the guards use of them.

  After explaining this to the group, the colonel turned to Ingles. “Are you and Mathey kitted up?”

  Ingles cradled his pack lovingly. “Aye sir. Between pretty boy here and me, we’ve got enough explosives to bring down a skyscraper. If we can block those entrances, we will.”

  “Good. Failing that, booby trap them. Do your best to slow down any guards coming in from the nexus, and ideally draw the ones already in there out.”

  “We’ll make it a killing field if we have to sir.”

  The colonel lowered his tone, like he was speaking just to Ingles and Mathey. “I can’t tell you how crucial your part in this is. We’ll be able to take care of the door security to the main operations floor, but if there’s too many guards on the floor itself, Katona will be cut down before he can get to the centarch.”

  “We won’t let you down sir,” said Mathey in his rumbly Canadian accent.

  Ingles just nodded. He and Mathey each had a trooper, and two of the Chonai Ka-Li with them. Their small numbers, and red harnesses, would hopefully make moving unnoticed through the center a possibility.

  The colonel turned to Skip. “Right corporal, let’s get this door open.”

  — 60 —

  When it came to security, like most government buildings Jon had infiltrated, the nexus had a hard outer shell but went all soft and gooey in the middle. As a result, they’d found it much easier moving around inside than expected.

  The operations floor itself formed the hub of the nexus, though arrayed around it was a maze of corridors and offices. Ingles and Mathey would take a while to work their way around to the other side of the hub, so in the meantime the rest of the unit commandeered a small suite of offices in an out of the way corner. It hadn’t been a difficult operation. They’d secured the offices by the simple process of walking in, ordering the three occupants to remove their harnesses, and tying them up.

  It was brazen, but it worked. It helped that there were only a handful of them left. Between the losses getting out of the transit tube and the jungle chamber, the unit was down to twelve. Ingles and Mathey had taken one each to secure the other nexus entrances, along with all but two of the Chonai.

  So, a small suite of offices was ample space. Besides, they wouldn’t need it long. The tiny suite of offices, and the handful of men in it, brought home to Jon how many had fallen. But then he hardened his face. Now was not the time to be thinking those thoughts, there would be time to deal with the losses when all this was done, if they survived.

  Jon stripped off his red harness and donned one they’d confiscated from the office workers. The controls were identical, and it would make him less conspicuous moving through the corridors.

  “I’m going to scope out the security to the operations floor,” he said.

  “Stay in the lower levels,” The colonel said. “The upper ones just have managers and the centarch staff entrances. We won’t get in that way.”

  Jon motioned one of the Chonai over. “Come with me, I’ll be less conspicuous with one of you.”

  He gave the Chonai a moment to switch out its harness, and then they slipped out the office door.

  He took a circuitous route towards the middle of the building. As he walked, he mused that technically it was more of a space station than a building. Still, it had a middle. His purpose was to let his implant’s inertial systems map this area, and along the way check if there were any guard posts, or security stations. Which ther
e weren’t.

  In fact they didn’t come across a single guard at all.

  After a couple of minutes of walking, they encountered the corridor ringing the operations floor. There was no mistaking it, not only was it the first they’d encountered with windows, but it was at least three times the size of any other corridor.

  They turned and followed its curve until they encountered an entrance to the operations floor itself. It was, as they expected, guarded, and the guards were challenging someone entering. It was clear that they wouldn’t be able to just walk past the checkpoint to get onto the floor itself.

  Jon and his Ka-Li shadow walked past at a brisk pace, like they were going somewhere important. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the guard post, wishing he could read Ka-Li facial expressions. He couldn’t tell whether they were frowning or not. But, they were busy checking credentials, and Jon passed without incident.

  “Just two guards at this entrance to the floor,” Jon sub vocalized as they turned the corner. “Also, it’s quiet, we shouldn’t have any trouble replacing them and getting in.”

  “Good job Moss. You’d better get back though. Ingles and Mathey have just reported in. They’re making their way out the other side. We need to get inside soon.”

  “Copy sir,” Jon replied, and lengthened his stride.

  “Also, see if you can waylay two more staff. The admiral and I need to get out of these red harnesses, they’re way too conspicuous.”

  On the way back Jon couldn’t help but frown. He’d been in some tight spots before, like the Venezuelan presidential palace that still gave Bakowski nightmares, but there’d always been an out, a backup plan. Sure, oftentimes that plan meant walking for days through a hostile, snake infested jungle to a pre-arranged pickup point. But there wasn’t anywhere on the globe that the regiment couldn’t extract you from. When things went south, your job was just to survive until they arrived.

  But here there were no contingencies. This was the first job he’d done where success was the only option.

  — 61 —

  Commander Biss felt the explosion before he heard it. The vibration rippled through the floor, and then moments later a dull thump echoed through the nexus. It wasn’t loud, but it was wrong, and the staff knew it.

  Silence fell.

  “Where’d that come from?” he asked the controller he was seated beside.

  The two of them had been co-ordinating the search of the lower main habitation chamber. Frankly, it was a hopeless task. They’d been half heartedly chasing Chonai remnants in there for tens of cycles, and only occasionally catching one.

  “I’ll raise the guards.” The operator spoke hurriedly into his com-pod, then stopped and turned to face his superior.

  “What?” Biss spat.

  “The door guards are not responding.”

  “Who else is near there?”

  “I’m not sure. Most of that chamber’s units have been moved to the main lower chamber, to assist in the hunt.”

  Biss’s eye slits flared in annoyance. “Do I have to do everything myself?” He activated an all unit hail. “All nexus guards on non essential duty, report to assembly area nine.”

  Biss stood. “Find out what’s out there waiting for us, and com me when you do.”

  Without even waiting for a reply he stalked off. With a series of dagger like glances, he ensured that all able staff in the room were close on his heels, and he made his way out.

  By the time he arrived at the assembly area, a good three quarters of the center’s complement of guards were already there. He could hear the pounding of boots echoing through the corridors, so the rest of them wouldn’t be long.

  Biss stabbed a claw toward one captain. “You. Take three quarters of these guards and proceed up access way one.”

  “Sir, what are your orders?”

  “Defend the center, it’s clear we’re under attack. Kill anyone who approaches the entrance. I’ll take the rest and defend access way two.”

  “What about civilians?”

  “If there’s any stupid enough to approach an open conflict, then once you’ve shot several, the rest will stay away.”

  The captain gave a small bow and gathered his troops together. It didn’t take long. Waves of anger and haste pheromones were flooding off Commander Biss’s body, and he was doing nothing to quell them.

  By the time the captain’s squad left, the rest of the center’s guards had arrived.

  “You lot. With me,” growled Biss, and without so much as a backward glance moved out. The hurried scrabbling and scraping of boots told him that his guards weren’t far behind.

  Half way along the access way he noticed something was wrong.

  “Is that a draft?” he said.

  One guard lifted his head and sniffed. “I think the main doors are open, I smell cooking.”

  Biss stopped and took in a deep breath. “That’s not food you fool, that’s burnt flesh.”

  He pointed at two guards. “You two, stay with me, the centarch needs to know this. The rest of you, secure the door. And be quick about it.”

  It was only a quarter stadia or so to the entrance, but the remaining guards doubled their pace and made short work of the distance. Even from farther back down the access way, Biss could see light streaming in. The main access doors had been blown off their tracks, and there was a flickering red light on the far side. Someone had lit a fire.

  While he was waiting to be connected to the centarch, he looked down the length of the access way. Strange, he thought, why would their attackers light a fire on the far side of the doors. Then the reason hit him and he drew a sharp breath.

  He slipped a claw into his com-pod, opening an all units hail. “Something is wrong here. I suspect…”

  Biss never got to complete his sentence. Just inside the entrance, high in the corners and out of sight, Ingles had rigged two cans. Each had a kilo of high explosive in the bottom and were packed with metal. He’d sacrificed a micro drone to ensure he could detonate them when they were most effective, most deadly.

  And deadly they were. Like a shaped charge, the heavy doorway corners focused the energy of the explosion back down the length of the narrow access way, sending deadly pieces of hot metal scything through limbs, torsos and heads.

  Biss’s guards may as well have been standing in a giant shotgun barrel. The metal fragments were moving so fast, and had so much mass, their harness shields were no use. There were a few pathetic sparkles as some of their shields managed to deflect a piece or two, but that just sent more metal careening into the next guard.

  Moments after Ingles triggered his IEDs, the guards closest to the entrance were turned into mincemeat, leaving nothing but blood, body parts, and an expanding cloud of smoke and vapor. Biss, and the ones a little farther away, were less lucky. Some lost limbs, others only took a handful of fragments and bled copiously.

  They took much longer to die.

  — 62 —

  That will be our signal, thought Jon as the pressure wave from the explosion cracked the glass on the operations center windows.

  Jon opened a tac-link connection. “What the hell did you do Ingles?”

  “Just kicked the ants nest to get them all running my way, then added a couple of welcoming IED’s lieutenant. Something I picked up from the contras. Looks like we got quite a few. There can’t be too many left inside with you.”

  “Well, I’m sure there’s more where they came from.”

  “Maybe so sir, but we’re out here with them, we’ll make their life a wee bit uncomfortable if they try and get inside.”

  “No time for chit chat you two,” said the colonel. He, Admiral Katona and Jon were in a small ante room, just inside the entrance to the main floor. They’d ‘replaced’ the two door guards with two Chonai Ka-Li, which left them with the remaining two. One of whom was Ahm-Wat, the Chonai remnant who had tracked Jon’s squad through the starship’s desert chamber. It seemed like an age ago.

&nb
sp; The trip in, and the necessities of battle, had taken its toll on the original group. Not for the first time, Jon pondered whether they’d have made it this far without the Chonai’s help, given how few of the colonel’s men were left. But the way was clear now.

  Jon glanced up. Five stories above them was the centarch’s chair. It was part of a small platform, itself attached to a huge, conical stalactite shaped pillar descending from the ceiling. The pillar was covered in slowly writhing purple tendrils. Four spindly looking metal walkways led out to the chair from balconies high on the walls of the operations center.

  “Now is the time to strike,” said the admiral, keeping his head down. He was the most recognizable of the four of them by far, and had been making pains to stay as hidden as possible since they’d entered the operations center. “Is the way clear?”

  Jon took a look around. The operations center was a hive of activity, and after Ingles’s efforts outside, it was becoming more frantic and panicked by the second. “Yes, the guards on the balconies, all followed their commander out.”

  The admiral turned to Colonel Whitfield. “Colonel, you and your handful of men have done extraordinarily well. Last time a starship was taken, it required a force of one hundred thousand crack troops. But you have cleared the way. Now the rest is up to me.”

  “Have you put thought to what will happen if the centarch just stays holed up in there? I’m assuming he’s not without protection.”

  “No, he is behind many layers of protective fields, they are for The Doyenne’s safety as much as his. But he will need to emerge and answer my challenge. There are too many witnesses.” The admiral opened his mouth, giving them a toothy Ka-Li smile. “And I will ensure that more than just this room will hear his answer.”

  “Well, we’ll be staying close.” Colonel Whitfield gave Jon a small nod.

  Jon hefted the bag he’d been carrying, letting it gape open. The colonel reached in and withdrew his H&K, slipped it into the holster at his side, then pulled out a Ka-Li carbine. Jon did likewise and passed a third weapon to the admiral.