Starflake (T'aafhal Legacy Book 3)

by Doug Hoffman

  “Sgt. Aurora, Cpl. Inuksuk. Report to the armory to get suited up. We're going walkabout.”

  Armory, 1st Deck

  “Hey, big Nanook!” yelled Vinny when the pair of ursines entered the armory. “Time to suit up for some extravehicular fun.”

  Inuksuk emitted a low rumble. Humans had adopted the moniker Nanook as an all purpose nickname for polar bears, the equivalent of “guy” or “dude” for humans. Since Nanook means “polar bear” in Inuit this was appropriate. The bears remained indifferent on the subject.

  “So what's the drill, primates?”

  “Heavy armor, full ammo loads of 5mm and 15mm, though y'all might want to think about something a mite heavier,” replied PFC “Grits” Walker. Walker was a good ol' boy from LA—Lower Alabama, also known as the Redneck Riviera.

  “Da, I am carrying pulse laser as second weapon,” added LCpl Dmitry “Bosco” Boskovitch. Bosco was a former Russian Spetsnaz special forces operative and a veteran of the last voyage of the old Peggy Sue. All the Marines carried two weapons, generally a variable fire rate, high velocity 5mm railgun on their dominant arm and a secondary weapon on their other arm. For the humans the secondary was usually a 15mm cannon, capable of firing high explosive or canister rounds. The bears, being able to carry a heavier ammo load, had other choices as well.

  At this point the Gunny, who was already suited up, joined the conversation. “Since we don't know what we'll run into on board the Starflake, I think you should carry a 30mm as your secondary, Corporal.”

  This brought a smile to Inuksuk's long muzzle. Basically a larger caliber version of the 15mm cannon, the 30mm was new with the latest armor system. A rapid fire railgun fed from an ammo pack on the operator's back, the 30mm projectiles it used had the explosive impact of an old fashioned 155mm artillery piece. It elevated the already considerable destructive power of the Marines to a new level.

  “So what are our orders, Gunny?” asked Sgt Aurora.

  “We are to suit up and board the shuttles: 1st squad on the portside shuttle, 2nd squad on the starboard. The officers are still debating where to land on this thing but the plan is for 1st squad to make initial contact, with 2nd held in reserve. Once we have secured a beachhead some of the officers will land in the small shuttle to investigate.”

  “Do we know what we are up against, Gunnery Sergeant?” asked PFC Narinder “Simba” Singh. Singh was a Brit from Slough and a former Royal Marine Commando. He was also a Sikh whose name translated as “King Lion,” hence the nickname “Simba.” Sikhs are always suppose to wear a dastaar, the distinctive headgear they are known for. Tradition not withstanding, there were times when a large turban was not practical, like when wearing space armor. Instead, inside his suit helmet he wore a smaller scarf-sized cloth, a patka, to cover his hair, as other Sikhs have done to accommodate conventional helmets.

  “We'll find out when we get there, so be ready for anything. But note that the natives might not be openly hostile, so don't go popping off at anything that moves—we do not open fire unless attacked.”

  “Well that's just bloody great,” said PFC Brian “Brains” Davis, a former Royal Marine. “Givin' ET a little target practice are we?”

  “Shut it, Davis. We have our orders. Any more questions?”

  No one else spoke up.

  “All right, move out to the landing shuttles.”

  The two squads of Marines, bulky gray giants in their heavy armor, exited the armory and headed for the awaiting shuttles. On suit-to-suit, PFC Fanni Takala said to her friend PFC Keti Tseriteli:

  “You were looking for adventure, now you will get some I think.”

  “Adventure is fine, as long as the price isn't too high. What good is adventure if you don't live to tell about it?”

  “Are you always so pessimistic?”

  “I try to be pessimistic, that way I can be pleasantly surprised if things turn out OK.”

  “That's one way of looking at it. I'm thinking positive thoughts—maybe there will be ice faeries and unicorns inside.”

  “You do know that unicorns are carnivorous, right?”

  Combat Information Center

  The ship's officers gathered around the big holographic projection tank in the CIC. Several recon drones had been sent out to scout the Starflake prior to deciding where to land the Marines. Live video from the drones moved across the wall displays as a model of the Starflake slowly took shape in the tank. Internal details would not get filled in until the Marines actually set foot inside the structure.

  “So far there aren't any signs of alien life, hostile or otherwise,” Beth observed.

  “It does seem a awfully quiet,” agreed JT. “The whole structure is encased in some form of transparent material, not ice but definitely some kind of crystalline substance. Sensors indicate a livable environment inside, though conditions seem to vary significantly among the different spires.”

  There were fourteen main spires in all, six mutually orthogonal ones configured like a giant jack from an epic game of knucklebones. Eight more stuck out at equal angles between the primary axes, as if tracing diagonals of an inset cube. Smaller spires filled the space between the main spires, and smaller ones still between them.

  “I am not detecting anything that would indicate energy weapons or even defensive shielding, though it appears that there is deck gravity inside the spires. It seems to vary in strength from spire to spire and within the spires themselves.” Mizuki looked at her companions. “It is safe to say we have never seen anything like this before.”

  “Getting inside will be the trick. There are no obvious doors or other entryways. If there are aliens in residence I doubt they would appreciate us crashing through the side of their home with an armored shuttle.”

  “Which is why you are going to lead the landing party, Lt. Taylor. After all, you have had experience exploring alien space stations in the past.”

  “That's true, Sir. If I recall correctly, every one of those missions ended in a fire fight.”

  “Well, let's hope this time proves the exception to the rule. Go get suited up and report when you are on board Shuttle One.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.” JT left the bridge at a run, a smile on his face. This beat wrangling asteroids all to hell.

  Shuttle One, Port Side

  JT jogged toward the portside shuttle bay, wearing light armor and carrying a railgun assault rifle. The shuttles docked with the Peggy Sue with their bellies against the outer hull, meaning their internal deck gravity was not aligned with the gravity within the mother ship. Nearing the bay he entered a hallway whose floor abruptly twisted to the left, turning through 120 degrees until it aligned with the shuttle docked above the bay. Deck gravity kept the down vector normal to the deck's surface but visibly it was still unsettling—a lifetime living in constant gravity instilled reasonable fear of trying to run sideways along a wall or upside down. One of the things the Marines practiced was running through the “twister” as they called it, until the disagreement between their eyes and their inner ears no longer caused them to falter.

  Coming to a halt at the foot of the shuttle's rear ramp he encountered a member of the crew, also wearing light armor. The ramp extended into the airlock to provide easy access to the shuttle's interior, even for humans and bears in heavy battle armor.

  “Welcome aboard, Lieutenant,” Jay Taylor said in greeting, “everyone else is already on board.”

  “Good. Let's get her buttoned up and ready to go.”

  JT hurried up the ramp. The interior of the shuttle was filled with hulking gray giants, faceless inside their battle armor. One overly large monster was unmistakably Cpl. Inuksuk, the only ursine in 1st Squad. The Lieutenant strode to the front of the cabin and stopped in front of one of the gray giants.

  “All set to go, Gunny?”

  “Aye, aye, Sir. Locked and loaded.”

  JT nodded, a gesture that could be seen through the clear bubble helmet of his suit. The Gunny's response, if an
y, was obscured by the solid helmet of her battle armor. The Marines' view of the outside world was provided by an immersive holographic display that allowed them to see in frequencies both higher and lower than normal human vision, overlain with targeting queues and other data.

  Entering the forward cabin, JT saw a crewmember sitting at the portside weapons console and another in the pilot's seat. Through the pilot's clear helmet he recognized the dirty blond hair of an old friend.

  “What's our status, Chief?”

  “Power's up and all systems are nominal,” said CPO Steve Hitch, turning to look over his shoulder. “Welcome aboard, Lieutenant. The copilot's seat is empty if you want.”

  “No thanks, I'd rather stand. I'm hoping this will be a short journey.”

  Jay entered the flight deck from the main cabin. “We're all sealed up and the Marines are secured for flight, Sir.”

  “Thank you, Petty Officer Taylor. PO Wilson, you set to go?”

  “Aye, Sir. Weapons secure for departure, we're good to go,” replied Tamara.

  JT nodded. “Peggy Sue, Shuttle one. We are ready for departure.”

  “Shuttle One, you are clear for undocking and departure.”

  “Copy that, Peggy Sue. Chief, take her out.”

  “Aye, aye, Sir.”

  Without a tremor or a sound the hull of the Peggy Sue fell away from the shuttle. Pulling away from the ship the shuttle accelerated, heading across the fifty kilometer gap between it and its chosen destination, two thirds of the way up one of the diagonal spires.

  Chapter 12

  Shuttle One, On Approach To The Starflake

  The crystalline spires of the alien space station surrounded the shuttle, their glittering transparent surfaces a stark contrast to the dark gray hull of the armored troop carrier. In the main cabin, the Marines were all watching the shuttle's progress on their helmet displays. Some listened to music while others chatted on suit-to-suit comm links.

  “Well it's big, I'll give 'em that,” remarked Grits Walker, as the target spire grew larger.

  “I think it's pretty,” said Fanni Takala. “It reminds me of ice and snow back home.”

  “Do you always have to be so cheerful?” asked Zippy Ben-Ezra. This was the Israeli woman's first possible alien combat and she was a bit nervous, though she would deny it.

  “Come on, lighten up Zippy. Y'all don't need to be so serious all the time. We'll find out what we're up against when we get there.” Leaking through Walker's comm was background music with a strong beat and a soulful male singer.

  “What's that your listening to, Yank? It sounds familiar,” Brains Davis asked.

  “The Heavy, Short Change Hero.”

  “From that TV show?”

  “Yeah, Strike Back. About a bunch of special operators. Hey, it starred a Brit and an American, just like you and me, Brains.”

  “Right. Except that the Brit was played by a Yank, and the Yank was played by an Aussie.”

  “So maybe I can trade you in on an Aussie, guv'ner,” Grits replied in an atrocious English accent.

  “Funny, you gormless tosser. Who do you think you are, bleeding Action Man?”

  “Who?”

  “If you two would shut up and pay attention to our objective we all might learn something,” Zippy huffed. “For instance, there seems to be a multifloored structure inside of the crystal exterior...”

  * * * * *

  “Looks like there are floors in the interior of the structure, with balconies and doorways leading inside,” JT reported to the ship. “It suggests that the gravity, if any, is oriented along the spire axis.”

  “Roger, Shuttle One. Have you found a way in yet?”

  “That's a negative, Peggy Sue. We're going to follow the spire back toward its base.”

  “LT, it looks like there are open platforms along that extended ridge just below us,” Hitch observed.

  “I think you're right, Chief. Let's take a closer look.”

  The shuttle drifted down the spire toward the object's spiky hub. Near its midpoint they approached a section of the tower where the crystal sheathing flared outward, widening the structure. Gliding slowly past the crystalline walls, objects within became visible.

  “The protruding section seems to contain a bunch of distinct cells,” Hitch observed, glancing between the view outside and his instruments. “Some of them are covered and others are open to space.”

  “Yeah,” said Tamara. “Some of them have what look like small craft inside them.”

  Tamara was right, dark shapes could be seen within several of the sealed off rectangular prisms. “Hold us steady, Chief. I think that this part of the spire is actually some kind of parking garage.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Peggy Sue, Shuttle One. Are you seeing this?”

  “Roger, Shuttle One. We agree that you are outside of some kind of docking facility. Interrogative, could you set the shuttle down inside one of the open bays?”

  “Copy that, Peggy Sue. We will approach one of the open bays.” JT took a deep breath, thinking, here we go, sticking an appendage into a dark hole. “You heard the man, Chief, let's poke our nose in and see if anything tries to cut it off.”

  “Aye, aye, LT.”

  Hitch aligned the shuttle with one of the beckoning open bays and began edging forward. Crystal enclosed cells above, below and to either side, like a giant vertical ice cube tray. When they were within ten meters of the chosen opening the portal's rim began to glow with faint blue light.

  “Looks like something knows we are approaching. Should I continue, Sir?”

  “Our shields are up, PO Wilson?”

  “Aye, Sir. Shields are up and the defensive X-ray lasers are on standby.”

  “Very well, time to fish or cut bait. Take us inside, Stevie.”

  JT's elevated stress level was evident in his calling Hitch by his first name—they had fought together on numerous occasions when Hitch was an enlisted-man and JT a noncom. At Hitch's gentle urging the big shuttle edged closer to the threshold, smoothly gliding inside the structure. Once the tail cleared the mouth of the bay, the shuttle began to drop.

  “A gravity field just came on, pulling us to the deck!”

  “How strong? Can we back out?”

  “Not strong, about a third of a G, it came on suddenly. Should I extend the landing struts and let her settle?”

  “OK, Chief. Let her down easy.”

  Brief electromechanical whining marked the extension of the landing struts, then silence. Seconds passed slowly as the shuttle gently alighted.

  “We're down. I guess that means we've docked, LT.”

  “Sir, there's movement aft!” Tamara blurted, alarm in her voice.

  “Give me a view aft!”

  The holographic display built into his helmet lit up showing a panoramic view facing aft. A strange rippling was converging from the edges of the dock opening. From all sides, the open space they had just passed through was growing shut, a clear wall crystallizing as he watched.

  “Should I burn a way out with the lasers, Sir?”

  “No, secure the lasers,” JT answered, making a snap judgment call. “I think it is just the hatch being shut behind us. Let's see what happens next.”

  “Lieutenant, outside atmospheric pressure is rising. It's up to nearly 600 millibars and climbing fast.”

  “Composition?”

  “Mostly nitrox: 75% nitrogen, 23% oxygen, some H2O, CO2 and other trace gasses. It's breathable, Sir.”

  “Seems like they're making us feel right at home. Let's see what the ship says before we proceed.”

  CIC, Peggy Sue

  “...and the temperature in the bay is about 16°C, a bit chilly but tolerable. I don't know what conditions are like inside the main structure, but this would be habitable without suits.”

  “We are getting your full analytic readings now, Lieutenant. Have there been any signs of life inside the spire?”

  “That's a negative, Captain.
We've observed no movement inside or in any of the adjacent docking cells. How do you want us to proceed, over?”

  Billy Ray muted the comm and turned to the others. “Well, what do y'all think?”

  “The docking procedure could be automatic, activated by a ship entering one of the bays,” Mizuki said. “It doesn't mean that there are any inhabitants within the structure.”

  “It doesn't mean there aren't any either,” observed Beth.

  “Correct.”

  “One way to find out, Captain. They've gone this far, they may as well enter the station proper.”

  “No longer afraid it will consume their life-force, pardner?”

  “Ha ha. I think it's obvious that this is some kind of space station, or a ginormous ship, and it evidently has power and at least some of its systems are still functioning.”

  “'If you dare nothing, then when the day is over, nothing is all you will have gained,'” Beth quoted. “I say we send them inside.”

  “Hai.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we're agreed.” Billy Ray took the comm off mute and spoke. “Shuttle One, go ahead and disembark the Marines. See if they can find a way in—preferably a non-destructive way.”

  “I copy, Peggy Sue. Disembarking the Marines now...”

  Interior, Starflake

  Two abreast the Marines jogged down the shuttle's rear ramp, half splitting off to the left, half to the right. As they exited, other spires could be seen through the transparent cover that had grown over the once open entrance to the docking bay. Next to the last to exit, Brains Davis couldn't help himself. He stepped up to the clear material they had watch form, reaching out with an armored gauntlet to touch the barrier.

  “It's smooth and hard, I wonder how we make it go away?”

  Right behind him Walker thumped him on the backpack. “Quit messing around, Brains, what if it popped like a soap bubble and we all got blown out into space.”

  “Come on mate, you saw it form. It has to be ten centimeters thick and strong enough to hold an atmosphere without bulging outwards in the middle.”

  “Yeah, it was sort of weird, like it was melting in reverse. But that don't mean you should handle everything you see. Some of this stuff could be dangerous.”