by Frank Carey
TABLE OF CONTENTS
TABLE OF CONTENTS
COPYRIGHT
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Unification
Stryker Team Book 3
By Frank Carey
COPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2017 by Frank Carey
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
League Tale #41
CHAPTER ONE
It was quiet in the briefing room; quiet, dark, the perfect temperature for a weary elf captain to take a nap while her nanorobots consumed ethanol fuel as they recharged her two microfusion generators. And nap Space Marine Captain Kalana Grenor did. After days of work, her plan for rescuing her kidnapped friend and fellow stryker, Detective Chief Inspector Gabriel Adon had been approved by the higher-ups. Now, her team mates were gathering personnel and material while she took a well-earned nap. Then the dreams took over.
###
Kalana found herself standing in a field of wild flowers on a planet similar to her home world, Ventos Prime. That's where the similarities ended. She looked up and saw a very overweight dragon fly overhead while puffing smoke from its nostrils. "Why couldn't I have normal dreams?" she asked.
"Have you looked at your life recently?" a familiar voice asked. She turned and saw her late fiancé, Colonel Peter Ventana, standing next to an eight-foot-tall candy cane, his uniform stained with blood from a gaping chest wound.
Kalana hung her head. "Can't you stay dead?" she asked with all sincerity.
"I thought you missed me," he said, a look of hurt clouding his cherubic continence.
"If you're here as a way for me to rid myself of guilt over your death, you've failed. You betrayed me, your family, and the corps. A girl can only take so much before moving on."
"Sorry, but I did it..."
"Boss? Wake up!"
Kalana opened her eyes and saw Mersa standing over her, her wings giving little nervous flaps. "How long have I been out?"
The Basili sergeant looked at her chrono. "Two hours. I hated to wake you, but we're ready to head out. The major plans to brief Stryker Team One once we're underway."
"What about the Boneheads?"
"They're staying aboard the ship as a reserve force. Command wants a minimum number of our people down on the surface of Degreb to recon the situation before they commit a larger force. Major Williamson and Ambassador Irithyl will be running the briefing.”
Kalana got up and shook the sleep out of her hair. "Thanks for letting me sleep. Oh, the bots thank you as well."
"You're all welcome. Um, Captain?" the sergeant said with another nervous twitch of the wings.
"Yes, Mersa?"
"Are you OK for this OP? No one would fault you if you wanted to sit this one out."
"Are you asking if watching my fiancé killed a second time has somehow affected my emotional stability?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Probably, but not rescuing Gabe, retrieving the material that was stolen, and returning everything to the League outweighs all other concerns. I owe Gabe and his family." She smiled at her friend. "What is it that Gunny Zon used to say? Shake it off?"
"Yes, ma'am," a still worried Mersa replied.
"Come on, worry wort. Let's get this show on the road."
###
Once the League Warship Zipper was in other-space, Major John Williamson briefed the stryker team on their mission. In attendance were Kalana, Sergeants Mersa, and her Alue counterpart, Trent, and the two genetically engineered life forms, Private Nana Tor and Private Marcus Wen. Like Kalana, Nana and Marcus were cyborgs, known collectively as strykers. Both privates were created in a lab using genetic material from several species including winged Basili, elves, and humans. Both strykers had wings and tails like Basili while possessing the strength of ten humans and IQs near the maximum end of the scale. Like elf twins, the unrelated privates possessed a psychic link which ran 24-hours whether or not they were in physical contact.
A holographic image of Degreb hung in the air over the center of the room. "Welcome to Degreb," the major said. A red, flashing dot appeared on its surface. "This is the current location of DCI Adon. Biometric data shows that the inspector is alive, though his bots are quiescent. We can assume that his ability to transform into a stryker unit has been somehow inhibited."
"Sir, what do we know about where he's being held?" Kalana asked.
The view zoomed in on the dot. In moments, they were standing in front of what looked like a reinforced bunker guarded by at least two massive battle robots. Mersa peered at the bots. "Those darlings are equipped with Gatling-gun-style miniblasters." She tapped the head of one of the brutes. "Doesn't look like there's a driver, so either its autonomous or remotely controlled." She zoomed in on one of the breast plates. "PlasSteel or an adamantine composite. I doubt even our pulse-blast rifles would dent it."
"Would this do, Sarge?" Marcus asked as he materialized a rail gun round and handed it to Mersa. "It's depleted uranium embedded in a diamond-graphene matrix. Nana and I have ten rounds each. Our rail guns can fire these with a muzzle velocity in excess of 5,000 feet per second."
Kalana raised an eyebrow while she examined the round. "Now, I feel like last year's model. What about power draw. Even with two microfusion units, I would need to hit the bar to refuel after only a few rounds."
"Each of us have four microfusion power supplies, ma'am," Nana explained. "Our designer, Dr. Zoe Muntz, learned a great deal from her interactions with Gabriel."
She looked at Mersa and saw the Basili weapons officer running mental calculations. "One shot would spread pieces across the city. I need to remember to stand behind you during a fire fight."
"Remember, we're not at war with these people, and we would like to keep it that way," the major reminded them. He pressed a button, and the image shifted to two slightly different beings. "On the left is a quriss and, on the right, is a lingle.
"Mistress, my recordings show that Colonel Ventana's killer was a lingle," Murph, her AI, informed her through her earcomm.
She informed the major.
"Yes, the Office of Security agrees with you. Genetically, the two species are nearly identical. Externally, they have hair on the left side of their head while the lingle have it on the right. I've talked to the biologists and they think the two races started interbreeding millions of years ago, so most of the population of the planet is hybridized. The exception is with the ruling families."
Kalana stared at the image. "Let me guess, the royals practiced inbreeding to maintain genetic purity."
Williamson nodded. "This was made possible by their origins. Studies of their DNA suggest that both species evolved from asexual forms. The bottom line is blood feuds exist between the two species which number in the thousands and stretch back thousands of centuries."
The major tapped another button. The image shifted to a view of the planet from orbit. "There is one continent surro
unded by ocean. The quriss occupy the west half, while the lingle occupy the east. These halves are separated by a demilitarized zone. This zone contains their spaceport, trade centers, and a large diplomatic complex which houses those tasked with maintaining the peace. The building containing DCI Adon is here, near their spaceport." He tapped a button and the view shifted to ground level. The scene showed crowds of beings including many League species.
"Sir, I thought the existence of Degreb was top secret," Trent said.
"It is to the general population of the League. These people are smugglers who work the fringe. They have agreed to pass us information as long as we leave them alone. Except for weapons, you will see a lot of League merchandise being bought, sold, and traded in the DMZ."
An elf wearing the uniform of the League Diplomatic Corps joined them. "Ambassador Irithyl, I think you know everyone here," Major Williamson said.
"Of course," he said as he shook hands with the other members of Kalana's team while reserving a hug for the captain. "Kalana, how are you holding up?"
"I'm fine, sir. Thanks for asking."
"Lucien is going to lead the diplomatic team. Their mission is to brief representatives of the lingle and quriss governments on current events and to assure them the League was not a willing participant in this venture." He brought up images of several spreadsheets. "This is what Peter sold his Degreb contact over the last three years."
Mersa whistled. "My gods, sir, they could wipe out any League world with this kind of inventory. Is all this going to the lingle?"
"We don't know. We also don't know who the target is. All we know is that Gabe is in that building, and we need to get him out."
Kalana glared at the image floating above the floor. "That moron! What the hell was he thinking..." She stopped and looked at the major and the ambassador. "Why aren't I back in jail? He and I started dating during this time period, so why aren't I a suspect?"
"As an officer in the Space Marines, you are subject to review at any time. We had a Venlanten royal read you during your last physical. You came up clean, so here you are," the major explained."
"And if I hadn't come up clean?"
"Torture. You would have been forced to listen to wombat love poetry..." Lucien explained. He stopped when he saw the angry look on her face. "Come on, Kalana, you know we had to make sure. All we need is a stryker working both sides of the street. Hell, we didn't do so well with a Tralaskan colonel."
She visibly calmed. "Sorry. I've had a rough time of it lately. These representatives, are they officials in the two governments?"
"Unofficial. They have ties with their respective governments, but they work freelance," the ambassador explained. "Neither is happy with the situation, but they do what they can to keep the peace. Each is an influencer in their respective governments."
"We've made arrangements for your team to meet up with a deep cover OffSec agent who runs a shop near where Gabe is being held. He will help you get inside. Your mission is to retrieve Gabe, determine where the gelfs are, and leave behind a computer virus in their data system. Murph and Trent will handle that last part. Any questions?"
There were none.
"Good. Your briefings are in your datapads, and you have two hours before we enter the system. We'll park alongside a preselected asteroid where you will board a 'borrowed' freighter for the final leg of your journey. Good luck."
CHAPTER TWO
The five members of Stryker Team One stood near the ship and discussed their next move as they waited for their contact. Meanwhile, the diplomatic team was on its way to a meeting at an undisclosed liquor establishment somewhere in the DMZ.
Trent looked around, then nodded. "Talk about paranoid. There are at least a hundred Wi-Fi networks, and all of them are locked solid with 256-bit encryption. Yet, I'm reading thousands of break-in-attempts since we stepped off the freighter."
"Is our ride aware of this?"
"I think so, since he's one of the burglars."
"I agree with the sergeant," Murph added over the earcomms. "Our captain seems to have shut down his system until after our departure."
"You have to love the Office of Security. It gathers data at the drop of a hat," Mersa noted as her being in the corps was due in great part to the gathering of such data.
Kalana smiled. "I thought you loved being in the corps."
"I do. I just wish it had been my idea."
"Captain, we have a visitor," Marcus whispered over the earcomms.
Kalana looked and saw an elf approaching.
A very handsome elf. He looked familiar.
"Damn, Captain, he looks like Murph," Mersa noted. Kalana agreed. She remembered when Murph and Trent searched the Ventana data storage system on Tralaska. The virtual image of Murph could be their visitor's twin.
"Excuse me, but are you Captain Kalana Grenor?"
"Yes, I am. The smell of bacon is overwhelming in this part of town."
"If only it was bacon. My name is Hamish Alduin," he said as he took Kalana's hand and gently shook it. Then he smiled.
"Captain, your tail," Nana whispered.
Kalana looked in horror as her wayward appendage 'Stared' at Hamish over her right shoulder, a sign that at least part of her was interested in the elf. She tried to be nonchalant when she grabbed its tip and stuck it in her belt. "So, Mr. Alduin, what can you tell us about our destination?"
Ignoring her tail fiasco, Hamish took her by the arm and led them to a nearby building. Once inside, he flipped a switch on the wall. The interior lights came up as the doors and windows around them sealed. He led them over to a large display table. Flipping a switch on its surface brought up a hologram of a local map. Two flashing dots--one red and one blue--appeared. "Can I get you anything? I can recommend the iced tea."
"No thanks," Kalana replied.
"Well, then, to work. The blue dot represents this building while the red one represents our target." Rings appeared around the red dot. "These rings represent sensor grids installed within the last few days. OffSec had me throw a syringe of inert nanorobots into the first grid. You could hear the sirens all the way across town."
"Dammit," she replied.
"What's the problem?" he asked. "Just don't take any..."
"I hope you're cleared for this," Kalana said as she, Nana, and Marcus went to stryker mode then back to organic form.
"Leaving the bots behind isn't an option, sir," Trent said as he patted the elf on the shoulder. "Any other options?"
Hamish stared for a moment, then returned to the briefing. "Actually, there is one." He pressed a button and a number of blue lines appeared.
"They seem to connect the two dots. What are they?" Kalana asked.
"Tunnels bout ten feet in diameter. They are part of a much larger complex of tunnels which were built to house the denizens of the DMZ in the event of all-out war between the quriss and the lingle. People have moved down there over the years and now call it home. They don't particularly like above-grounders."
"What're our chances of getting to the other side, then into the building?"
"Pretty good as long as I go with you. I have a relationship with those people and you don't."
"Look, Mr. Alduin..."
"Hamish. Just call me Hamish."
She sighed. "Look, Hamish, I don't know if Command has briefed you..."
He tapped a button on the table which caused the image to shift to the one of her in stryker form screaming at a lingle. Behind the lingle were dozens of creatures. "Let's see... That's you," he said, pointing at the stryker. "And that's Tregor Skol, a real nasty piece of lingle work. Those creatures behind him are gelfs. From what I've heard, they're nowhere as nice as your two team mates." This got a smile from Nana. He pulled the view back to show a body on the floor. "I am very sorry for your loss. Colonel Ventana should not have died that way, and I hope to bring Tregor to justice for the Colonel's murder." He switched off the viewer. "I know exactly what I'm getting into." He walked over
to a bookshelf and tipped back a book. The shelf slid aside to reveal a room full of weapons.
Lots of weapons.
"Come to momma," Mersa said as she and her team mates walked inside. "May we?"
"Please," Hamish replied. "Mi weapons of mass destruction, su weapons of mass destruction."
Kalana hung back. "So, what else haven't you told us?"
"Hmmm. So many secrets; so little time. Well, for starters, I know you don't remember me."
She frowned. "We met before?"
"High school. I was a year behind you, and I had a crush of gargantuan proportions on Ms. Kalana Grenor. I went to every sports game you and your cheer team performed at..."
She gaped at him.
"And I hate sports. Here, let me jar your memory." He reached down and retrieved what looked like a door off a gym locker. It was about a foot wide and a foot and a half tall. In its center were three vent slits. He held it in front of his arm so that his hand poked out from behind it. He flopped his hand around. "Hey Kalana!"
"Oh my gods. That was you?"
"Yep. That was me when I found my true calling."
"Secret agent?"
"No, contortionist." He stopped and smiled.
Kalana found herself leaning into that smile...
"Captain! You have to see this collection!" Trent said. Kalana returned to vertical while both annoyed at the interruption and happy for it. "Hammish, do you know how to use any of these weapons?" she asked as she quickly composed herself.
"My weapons rating is on par with Sergeant Mersa's," he replied.
She walked into the room and took a quick survey. Impressive, but as you know, I'm already packing."
He grinned. "And armed as well."
Mersa's eyes went huge in shock.
"Mersa, are you and Trent satisfied with your selections?"
"Yes, ma'am!" they replied. They had been prevented from bringing their own weapons by the scanners blanketing the DMZ.
"Nana, you and Marcus be ready to go stryker if the need arises."