Starflake (T'aafhal Legacy Book 3)

by Doug Hoffman

  “They must have found my little present,” Bobby said. “Let's move.”

  The humans rushed toward the open door. Plasma bolts struck the wall next to the opening, coming from ahead of them.

  “Shit! We seem to be cut-off. Quick, through the door.”

  “Hai!”

  The two armored humans sprinted through the doorway. Inside they found a half dozen unarmed Karf standing around a large raised tank. True to their nature, the gray bipeds turned and attacked without hesitation.

  “You take them, I'll try to discourage the ones in the hall.”

  Without saying another word, Mizuki holstered her pistol and drew her katana. She waded into the swarm of gray attackers sending body parts flying.

  Bobby snuck a peak out the doorway—several Karf with weapons were approaching. He tossed a grenade down the hallway, a banked shot off the far wall. Ducking back inside just before the blast, he spied a control panel next to the door. Taking a chance he pressed the button outlined in red. The door slid shut.

  Turning around he saw Mizuki cleaning off her blade, the floor around her covered with headless and dismembered bodies. Blue ichor spread across the floor. He knew he didn't need to ask but he did anyway.

  “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

  Mizuki resheathed her katana and smiled. “Of course, and you?”

  “No damage.” He smiled back. “I managed to get the door to close, though I don't know how long it'll hold them.”

  “Really?” She walked over to where Bobby was standing by the control panel. “Which button did you push?”

  “The one outlined in red, why?”

  “Just thinking. The bottom one is outlined in blue, it probably opens the door. The middle one, the one you pushed, closed the door. What do you suppose the solid red one on top does?”

  “I don't know, maybe it's a panic button.”

  “Or maybe it locks the door.”

  “One way to find out.” Bobby pushed the solid red button. A second, even heavier door slammed down vertically, sealing the entrance. “Well now we know. I wonder what's so important that it needs a lockable armored door and armed guards on the outside?”

  “I don't know, but the only thing in here is the open topped tank that the gray men were standing by when we came in.”

  “A wise man once said 'sometimes you can see a lot by just looking.'”

  “Who said that?”

  “Yogi Berra, the great baseball legend.”

  “Baseball is also very zen.”

  “So let's go take a look in the tank and see what they were guarding...”

  SEALs, Small Shuttle

  Pauline brought the drifting pinnace to a halt relative to the massive crystalline spire. Just over thirty meters away was the location of one of the suspected airlocks. “I'm opening the rear hatch, Chief. You are clear for egress.”

  “Roger that Ma'am. Me and the boys will be on our way. You may want to stand off from the drop point once we are out.”

  “Once you fellas are gone I'm just going to drift off into the darkness and await your recall signal.”

  Bud, Phil and finally Chief Morgan exited the small shuttle's rear hatch. Quickly orienting themselves the SEALs headed toward what they hoped was an airlock on the station. Their suits were more or less standard light combat armor with a number of added pockets and compartments. These were stuffed with extra ammo, demolition ordnance, and assorted gadgets. Unlike the forearm mounted weaponry of the Marines' heavier suits, they each carried a standard assault weapon: a 5mm flechette rifle with top mounted dual row magazine and a 20mm grenade launcher/shot gun in an over under configuration.

  In addition to their normal load, they also carried EVA propulsion units strapped to their suit backs. The units contained an additional power source, a gravitonic thruster, and a CMG, a control moment gyroscope array. The CMG kept its wearer stable by spinning up or slowing down one or more of four internal gyroscopes. They provide pitch, roll, and yaw control, which combined with the thruster allowed the SEALs to maneuver independently in zero G.

  The three, accompanied by a basketball sized recon drone, headed for the side of the spire. The material of the Starflake's exterior was transparent but was so thick and arranged in such complex, overlapping layers that trying to look inside was like peering through an ice sculpture. One by one the SEAL team alighted on the surface.

  “Look, there is a control panel, just like the Jarheads found on the other spire,” Bud reported.

  “Well don't keep us floating around holding our peckers, push the blue button,” Rick groused. Bud pushed the button.

  The outer cover of the airlock did the magical melting crystal thing and opened. The interior was small, certainly not capable of holding even the small shuttle, but large enough to accommodate the three SEALs and the drone. As with the larger locks previously encountered, once they were inside the hatch grew shut and deck gravity came on.

  “Rubber Ducky, the ducklings are inside.” Rick called, signaling Pauline that she could move the pinnace away from the spire. There was no need risking its discovery by the spire's inhabitants.

  “Copy the ducklings are inside. Good hunting.” Outside, the barely visible pinnace moved away in ghostly silence.

  “OK, boys, let's go see if we can find the missing officers.”

  Phil was closest to the inside controls. He pushed the blue button and stood back while the inner cover melted away from the center out. They found themselves standing about four meters from an opening in the silvery inner building.

  “Ain't there supposed to be a ramp that comes out when the door opens?” asked Bud, eying the gap between the outer wall and the structure within.

  “You want a brass band too?” Rick replied. “If this was easy they would have sent the grunts, now hop to it, frogman.”

  CIC, Peggy Sue

  “Peggy Sue, Rubber Ducky. The ducklings have left the nest and are inside. Over.”

  “I copy, Rubber Ducky, the ducklings have entered the spire. Keep an eye on them and report anything abnormal.”

  “Roger, Peggy Sue. Standing by.”

  Closing the comm channel, Billy Ray turned to Beth. “Well, now comes the waiting.”

  “I know you'd rather be with them, dear. So would I.”

  The Captain grimaced. “They also serve who stand and wait.”

  “Should we have one of the squads return to the shuttles, just in case the SEALs need backup?”

  “Not yet. There's no indication that Rick and the boys have been spotted. We need to give them some time to find Mizuki and Bobby without losing the element of surprise. I'm afraid moving all or part of the Marines back to the shuttles would give the hostiles a hint that we are up to something.”

  “You're probably right, but I worry about the lads. It's three against possibly thousands.”

  “What we should do is talk to JT and the Gunny about what they need to move down into the station hub. That would be an expected thing for us to do and it might keep the little gray bastards' attention off things elsewhere.”

  “Yes, Sir. Proper prior planning prevents piss poor performance.”

  “Precisely, Number One.”

  Marines, Shopping Mall

  “Yes, Sir, it would be great if we can get a couple more recon drones and as many snakebots as the techs can scrape together. The more intelligence we can gather without exposing personnel the better.” JT paused to look around the plaza. A phalanx of hot pink Frisbees was finishing up the scattered remains and a legion of yellow maintenance trolls was busy fixing the shattered light columns and damaged shop fronts. “We could also use more ammo, both 5mm and 15mm, that and a hand full of armed crew to watch our backs after we move on the hub.”

  “Copy, Ice Castle, I think Master Chief Zackly can scrape together a half dozen crew who are comfortable in armor. I'm also going to send some medical personnel to check out Cpl. Inuksuk. If he's hors de combat I want him back on the ship. Otherwise h
e goes along with his squad to the lower levels.”

  “Roger that, Sir.”

  “Anything else we can do for you, Lieutenant?”

  “Not unless you have another platoon of Marines hidden on board, Captain.”

  “No such luck. Peggy Sue out.”

  JT turned to face the Gunny. “I guess we should brief the grunts on where we're going next.”

  “Yeah, I was thinking we can send 1st Squad down the freight elevator and 2nd down the two elevators from the plaza. The recon drones have found nothing on the levels beneath us, no movement and no IR signatures.”

  “It looks clear all the way down to the cavern at the hub,” JT replied. “Now why does that make me nervous?”

  “I feel another ambush coming on.” The Gunny motioned toward the nearby Shanakta-fek, who was trying to remain inconspicuous. “What do we do with your pet weasel?”

  “We can't take him with us into a firefight, I guess we should let him go back and report to his buddies. I'm sure his boss will want a first hand report about the new aliens in town.”

  “You don't think he's in charge of the station's weasels?”

  “No, he's a junior trader at best. You can tell by the earrings.”

  “Earrings?”

  “Yeah, look at his left ear. He only has two gold earrings. They are like symbols of rank for these critters. If they have the same scale as the other Kieshnar-rak-kat-tra one earring is an apprentice, two a junior trader, three a full fledged trader, and four is a master.”

  “Really? I didn't know you were so familiar with the ways of our furry little friends.”

  “More familiar than I'd like to be, believe me Gunny. We were double crossed by at least three different stink weasels during the mission on Ring Station. The only thing you can trust about these furballs is that they are only in it for themselves.”

  “I'll keep that in mind. So we cut him loose?”

  “Yeah.” JT turned on his external speakers. “Shanakta-fek, I suspect that you'd like to head back to your bower and let the folks know you are alright.”

  “Why yes, yes indeed, noble sir. I'm sure my compatriots would love to hear first hand about your heroic deeds in defeating the hated Karf.”

  “Tell the Station Trader that our captain is sending more personnel over while we go Karf hunting. He might want to send a delegation to meet with them.”

  Shanakta-fek blinked and twitched his ears, a sign of surprise. “I'm sure that the Station Trader will want to explore opportunities for commerce with your mighty captain at his convenience. May I go?”

  “Yeah, scram.”

  Without further discourse, the furry creature scampered across the now clean plaza and disappeared down one of the elevator shafts.

  “We should have put a tracker on the little rodent.”

  “What makes you think I didn't, Gunny?” JT smiled. “Now let's get busy, we've a reconnaissance in force to plan.”

  Karf Habitat

  “What are the invaders doing now?” demanded the Karf leader. The entire hierarchy of leaders was in turmoil following the unexpected escape of the captives. They slaughtered every Karf they came in contact and were still at large somewhere within the warren of passages that was the station's main Karf habitat.

  “More of the smaller aliens have arrived and brought new supplies to the invaders. It appears they are preparing to advance to the station hub.”

  “They must be stopped! Or at least delayed until the Others arrive.”

  “Right, oh brilliant one. Our murderous allies have not even received the summons yet. It will be days, weeks before they arrive.”

  “And if you don't get warriors into the hub passageways to stop these infidels the Others will arrive in time to avenge our extinction. Move your worthless gray asses and go stop these invaders!”

  Karf had no permanent military command structure. Like many tribal societies, when a raiding party or war band was needed one or more respected warriors would take it upon themselves to raise a force.

  Mumbling insults, several of the Karf war leaders departed the council chamber and headed out to organize war parties to stop the Earthlings' advance. They still had a few tricks left to play. After all, they had controlled the station for ten thousand years. And Karf were nothing if not murderously tricky.

  Chapter 22

  SEALs, Karf Habitat

  “This place is worse than a rabbit warren,” groused Phil, point man behind the hovering recon drone. They had been negotiating the curving hallways and spiral stairs of the Karf's home territory for twenty minutes and still had no clue as to where the missing officers might be.

  “'You are in a maze of twisty little passages',” Bud quoted.

  “What?”

  “Something from an old computer game I used to play.”

  “Keep the chatter down,” Rick admonished, “we don't know if the hostiles can pick up our signals, even suit-to-suit might give us away.”

  The trio rounded another corner and came to yet another staircase. The drone hovered next to the entrance patiently. Rick keyed his comm.

  “Peggy Sue, Huey.”

  The three SEALs' call signs for the mission were Huey, Dewey, and Louie. It was doubtful that the aliens could monitor their communications or understand English but a mission was not a proper mission without call signs.

  “Huey, Peggy Sue, read you five by five.”

  “Can we get an update on the target's suspected position, over?”

  “Roger that, a new pulse just arrived. Sending coordinates now.”

  “Got it, Peggy Sue. Out.” Rick consulted the holographic diagram of the spire projected inside his helmet. They were six or so levels above and two hundred meters horizontal distance from the location shown. “Stick a repeater somewhere non-obvious, we're going down.”

  “Aye, Chief.” Bud stuck a comm signal repeater to the wall near the stair opening while Phil sent the recon drone down the spiraling staircase. A few seconds later there was a loud bang and smoke drifted up the stairwell.

  “Drone's dead,” Phil stated.

  With hand signals Rick deployed the others to either side of the stair opening, hiding himself in a door opening across the hallway. All three blended in with their backgrounds, their suits' active camouflage matching the color and patterns of their surroundings. Active camo worked best in natural settings but it was still better than the suits' normal gray color.

  The first hostile emerged from the staircase brandishing a weapon, looked left then right, and screeched something down the stairs to its companions. It turned left and looked directly at Rick.

  The alien squinted and then raised its weapon. Bud, standing against the wall to the Karf's left grabbed the slender gray alien's weapon, tearing it from its grasp, and seized the hostile by the face, keeping it from crying out. Bud pulled the alien away from the stair entrance and smashed its head against the wall. As it slid to the floor, the dead Karf's crushed skull left a blue smear on the wall.

  Three more Karf emerged, two going right and one to the left. Bud grabbed the one headed his way and repeated the skull crush against the wall maneuver. Rick stepped from the doorway and said, “Mine.”

  Phil flattened himself against the wall as Rick shot the remaining two aliens. Precise head shots drilled neat holes in the back of the aliens' skulls. Tumbling on entry, 5mm flechettes caused their faces to erupt in geysers of gray tissue and blue blood.

  “Grenade,” Rick called.

  Phil swung an arm around the corner and tossed a grenade down the stairwell. Seconds later the detonation sounded.

  Rick motioned and Bud, railgun raised, went down the stairs. Phil followed, weapon at the ready. As he checked their rear, Rick keyed his comm.

  “Peggy Sue, we have hostile contact, no joy on the objective.” As he descended the spiral staircase he could hear his teammates' railguns firing.

  Mizuki & Bobby, Karf Vault

  Mizuki walked over to the open tank. It
reminded her of a Koi pond from back home, if a very utilitarian and inartistic one. The inside of the tank was lined with transparent material, like that of the Starflake's exterior. Contained within was ten centimeters of brackish liquid. Swimming in the liquid were a score of creatures. “There are creatures in the tank, Bobby.”

  “I wonder what these guys are,” he said, joining his wife at the side of the tank. “Could they be food for the little gray bastards?”

  “They are few, why would they guard them so?”

  “Maybe they are a great delicacy.”

  “They look like planaria.”

  “Flatworms? They have to be almost a meter long. And they are covered in green fungus or moss or something.”

  “People eat cheese covered with fungus.”

  “Maybe they are baby grays.”

  “They don't look anything like the gray men.”

  “They could be some kind of larval stage. These are aliens, we have no idea how their reproductive cycle works.” The creatures in the tank moved toward where the humans stood, reorienting themselves to all point toward the humans.

  “They are reacting to our presence. I wonder if they think we will feed them?”

  “What do you feed three foot long flatworms?”

  “I don't know, we would have to asked Dr. Krenshaw.” Mizuki paused and looked up. “Look at the ceiling above the tank. It's giving off a lot of light in the near UV.”

  “Sort of like a big grow-lamp. Maybe it's the green mossy crap they're raising, not the flatworms.” Bobby leaned on the side of the tank, grasping its edges with both armored hands. Bobby heard a crackling on his suit's comm.

  “Help... Us...”

  Bobby jumped back from the tank.

  “Did you hear that!”

  “Hear what, Bobby?”

  “Something said 'help us' over my suit comm.”

  “Check your computer and see where the signal came from.”

  Bobby paused while accessed his suit computer, navigating several levels of menu. “It says it was a simple FM modulated RF signal centered at 62 MHz. It was in one of the old trade languages, the computer translated automatically.”