Galactic Frontiers: A Collection of Space Opera and Military Science Fiction Stories

by Jay Allan

  T’kon unslung his pack, rooting around for the ferro gel. He squeezed the tube, leaving a thin trail of wet resin everywhere the wall met the door. The process took precious seconds, but he forced himself to be precise. This couldn’t be rushed.

  When he finally finished, T’kon trotted back up the corridor, kneeling behind one of the fortifications. He watched the door carefully, placing his thumb over the generator switch on his belt. A low, red glow came from the resin, then intensified into a blinding yellow-white.

  T’kon flipped the switch on his shield generator and plastered his body against the wall.

  A wall of superheated flame filled the hallway, glazing the walls as it burst around T’kon. The heat passed over his shield, warming his armor to nearly intolerable levels, then the flame was gone.

  T’kon flicked the generator switch off, already moving up through the space the door had occupied. He couldn’t afford to exhaust his suit’s generator; he regretted the need for the shield, but was pleased no apparent damage had been done to his suit.

  The door had been flung up the corridor, bent and warped by the heat and force of the explosion. T’kon leapt nimbly over it, landing in a crouch on the other side.

  The whine of an energy rifle came from a shadowed alcove to his right, and a beam of harsh blue light lanced into his shoulder. T’kon grunted, acknowledging the pain without giving it reign. He charged the shadows, leaping at his attacker.

  They collided, sparks flying as their armor scraped. T’kon landed atop his opponent, knocking the man’s weapon away with a quick blow. The saurian reached for a knife at his belt, and T’kon let him. He extended his stiletto with a flick of his wrist, then rammed the blade through the guard’s throat.

  From behind him came the unmistakable sound of an energy rifle powering up. T’kon rolled, dragging his assailant’s body around as a shield. A blue beam hit the dying guard in the face, ending his struggles, and T’kon darted a hand to his slug thrower, desperately unholstering the weapon.

  His opponent took careful aim, sighting down his barrel with the enviable calm of an Imperial veteran. A hard, frigid glow began in the barrel.

  T’kon tensed, waiting as long as he dared. Then he dragged the guard’s body upward, lunging toward his opponent.

  The man was already committed to the shot, somehow keeping his aim even as T’kon rushed him. The shot blazed past T’kon’s side, carving an molten furrow in his armor.

  T’kon roared, hopping backward as he yanked his slug thrower from its holster. The sudden change in direction caught the guard by surprise, and the man was unable to line up his rifle before T’kon fired. The shot took him in the temple, shattering scale and bone.

  T’kon stumbled up the hallway, away from the carnage. Should he flee? He was wounded, and there was no way to hide the mess here.

  No, he’d never have another chance. T’kon reached into his pack and removed a small bottle of pungent salve. He smeared it over the wound in his side, flinching as he touched the raw pink flesh. His fur had been burned away entirely there; judging by the depth of the wound, he doubted it would ever grow back.

  T’kon replaced the vial, then shouldered his pack. He plunged up the corridor, wrapping both hands around the grip of his pistol. Perhaps another hundred meters ahead, the hallway emptied into a cavernous room. That room was filled with unbroken darkness, silent and menacing.

  T’kon touched a button on his helmet, and the vision spectrum shifted to low light. The vague outlines of something truly massive slowly gained definition.

  “By their terrible gaze, it is even more massive than I’d believed,” T’kon breathed, staring at the legendary planetstrider Vkat.

  Chapter 6- Complications

  T’kon lacked the words to describe the creature he stood beneath. He’d seen combat footage, of course, but it failed to capture the planetstrider’s immensity. The tallest spires on this world would barely reach its knees, and many worlds could only boast a few mountains that were taller.

  A pair of gargantuan reptilian legs ascended into the darkness, leading to a bulky body made more so by cybernetic enhancements. The creature’s right arm had been replaced with a grasping claw with blades sharp enough to shear through anything unwise enough to engage. The left arm ended in a cannon the equal of any dreadnaught. It was quite capable of reaching vessels in orbit, but was more often used to end ground resistance. Mechanized divisions could be vaporized in a single shot, clearing the way for mobs of saurian infantry to finish the job.

  Many self-styled empires had been brought to an early end by a single planetstrider. Even at the height of Azi power, they had only controlled one. Now, thanks largely to his own actions, the Azi had none.

  Takkar possessed three of them.

  T’kon reluctantly flipped the switch on his generator, bringing the boosters online. He leapt across the distance to the planetstrider’s left foot in three quick hops. There was no immediate sign of resistance, so T’kon leapt again. This time he landed on the reptilian leg, along a bony ankle.

  The stench was overpowering, even with his suit’s atmospheric scrubbers. His eyes burned, and his lower nostrils scrunched shut. What did they feed such a beast?

  He leapt again, grabbing a loose scale just below the knee. A low beeping came from his belt, and he cursed under his breath. He leapt again, three times in quick succession. He’d reached the planetstrider’s waist, but the energy indicator on his belt was a cautionary yellow.

  This was going to be close.

  T’kon gathered himself, leaping to the mass of cybernetics where the elbow should have been. He grabbed a thick cable and swung himself atop a nearby panel, then leapt again, ignoring the frantic beeping, and again.

  He’d made it to the shoulder.

  A glance at his energy indicator confirmed his fear: the battery was drained. Even the beeping stopped after another few moments.

  T’kon squatted, resting his back against a ropy conduit thicker than his body. There seemed no way to avoid the gaze of the Nameless Ones. Even if he made it inside and successfully found the core, how would he escape? It would take hours to climb back down, and by that time the guards would be on full alert.

  He couldn’t summon his ship, because it was too wide to fit down the corridors. There was simply no way to escape, not that he could see.

  “Very well, then, the plan changes--a bit, anyway. I cannot escape, but my clan will know of my actions. The stain on my honor will be gone.”

  A lightness settled over him--the Haak, they called it. The certainty of death. Once a warrior embraced it, fear vanished. Peace remained.

  T’kon rose, walking slowly up the scaled shoulder. Above him, the creature’s reptilian head loomed. Its mouth lolled open, hundred-meter teeth occasionally grinding together. Every few moments a rush of hot, disgusting wind washed over T’kon’s armor.

  Affixed to the creature’s head and back was a mechanical harness, the control unit. The armor protected the creature, and made the control unit all but impervious to attack. At least one planetstrider had survived sustained orbital bombardment.

  T’kon had spent days poring over the footage of this exact control unit during the attack on Yrata. It had been grainy, but he was positive he’d spotted an exploitable flaw. There was a hatch nestled between the shoulder blades, midway down the back. It was both small and difficult to detect--much less to reach during combat.

  Of course, getting inside meant trusting Uval’s information. If the code worked, T’kon would gain entry to the undefended heart of this titan. He had some ferro gel remaining. If the Nameless Ones had their eyes averted, he might be able to destroy that heart.

  T’kon withdrew a roll of cable from his pack, bolting it to the joint where flesh met metal. He spooled it out slowly, spilling the cable down the creature’s back. He leapt over the side, spelunking down the shoulder. Each time he kicked off metal or scale, he angled further toward the center of the creature’s back.


  He risked a glance at the cable, hoping his math had been correct. The high-density polymer was thin, but he’d still only been able to pack 1000 metras. T’kon kicked again, scanning the area below him.

  Finally, he spied what he’d been seeking.

  T’kon landed next to a bent hatch, catching himself against it. He took a few moments to catch his breath, then studied the door. He tried to ignore the keening wind and the yawning blackness below. An impact from this height would liquify him.

  A small black box was affixed to the door, with the eight Imperial sigils. T’kon tapped in the sequence Uval had given him, holding his breath as he waited. A long moment later, the hatch popped open with a hiss.

  “Rest well, Uval of the Vkash clan.”

  Inside was a dimly lit corridor that sloped upward until it disappeared out of view. Based on the angle, that corridor likely led to the base of the skull, which made sense given that the core controlled the planetstrider’s nervous system.

  T’kon unclipped his cable, and rolled smoothly to his feet, sprinting up the corridor. He extended his stiletto with one hand, and drew the slug thrower with the other. Just in time. He skidded to a halt as a trio of saurians appeared at the top of the corridor. For a split second, they stared in confusion, and T’kon capitalized on it.

  His slug thrower roared, taking the first saurian through the eye. The explosive round detonated, vaporizing everything from the neck up.

  The second and third darted back up the corridor, but T’kon squeezed off a shot that took one in the back of the knee. The joint exploded, and the now legless saurian landed in a pool of its own black blood.

  T’kon kicked away its weapon as he sprinted by, keeping his slug thrower at the ready. The third figure had disappeared around a corner, presumably going for help. T’kon had no idea how much help he’d be able to summon, or if he could close and lock a door behind him. He had to catch the saurian before he reached safety.

  He flicked the switch on his generator, laughing in delighted surprise when a small surge of power rumbled through his amor. He leaned into a sprint, kicking off a wall as he rounded the corner after the saurian.

  The saurian was scaling a ladder, and his head was already out of sight. T’kon shot him in the back, right between the hearts. A second later the explosive round detonated, and the saurian’s body crashed back to the deck.

  T’kon sprinted toward the corpse, leaping over it to grab the ladder. He scaled as quickly as he could, hoping he could reach the top before whoever was up there realized an enemy had infiltrated.

  He was panting by the time he reached the top, and had no choice but the open his lower nostrils. The stench was even worse here, but there was no helping it. He needed the oxygen.

  He finally reached the top, pulling himself into a narrow room. His gaze was drawn to the left wall, which had been replaced with a viewport. It stared off into the darkness, but T’kon knew what it would reveal once the planetstrider was in combat: he was directly over the beast’s head, nestled above the eyes.

  His distraction was costly. A grey-robed Ganog techsmith leaned out from behind a terminal, squeezing off a trio of plasma shots in T’kon’s direction. The first took him in the chest, but he dropped prone to avoid the others. His armor had reddened alarmingly, and he could feel the intense heat even through the rubberized interior. He gritted his teeth against the pain, jerking up his slug thrower.

  The techsmith had ducked behind cover. Pulsing purple light bathed the wall behind him, giving away his location. T’kon knew that the light came from his arcanotome--the device techsmiths used to draw upon the stored knowledge of their caste--and found it ironic that it would be his undoing. If he revealed himself again, T’kon was positive he could end him.

  He unclenched his jaw, stifling the quaver as he spoke. “Throw out your weapon, Techsmith. I will spare your life.”

  There was no immediate response, so T’kon waited. Eventually, the figure shifted uncomfortably behind the console. He did not reveal himself, but T’kon hadn’t really expected him to. Not all techsmiths were fanatical, but any picked to serve here would be.

  The techsmith finally spoke. “They’ll be coming for you soon. There’s no way you can escape alive. Surrender, or your death will be legendary. You don’t know Takkar. He will flay us both for this intrusion. You’ve attacked the sacred heart of his favorite strider.”

  T’kon didn’t reply. Time was his enemy, and the techsmith knew it.

  T’kon peered carefully at the console, slowly taking aim at the upper corner, where it was thinnest. He fired, then jumped to his feet as the round slammed into the console. It lodged there for an instant, then it exploded, peppering the techsmith with shrapnel. The techsmith shrieked.

  T’kon darted around the corner and shot him in the face, ending his cries. Then he ducked back around the corner, avoiding the small explosion a moment later.

  T’kon’s chest heaved, and he breathed greedily through all four nostrils. He’d done it. He’d reached the control console.

  Now all he needed to do was figure out how to destroy this thing.

  Chapter 7- The Control Unit

  T’kon examined his surroundings, filled with a wonder he’d not experienced since the first time he’d seen a dreadnought savage an enemy world. This place--this cavern--hadn’t existed for more than a few weeks. The beast, on the other hand, had survived for countless millennia. Its age was unknown, predating earliest dynastic records.

  Countless generations had guided this monstrosity to war, across even more countless worlds.

  But T’kon didn’t have the luxury of awe. He forced himself to focus, as a warrior should.

  T’kon moved to the central console, focusing on a large cube that floated and bobbed over the console, pulsing slowly. A slow rhythmic pounding hovered at the edge of his hearing; pulses of purple light flowed across the surface in time with the pounding.

  T’kon turned to the techsmith’s corpse and bent to inspect the arcanotome, still connected to the techsmith’s temple with a thick, ropy cable. He was careful not to touch the thing. Doing so was said to draw the eye of the Nameless Ones. T’kon wasn’t sure he believed that, but it was quite possible the tome had a lethal trap for unwary thieves.

  He studied the surface of the book, which pulsed with purple light identical to the light from the cube. The pulses still flowed up the cable, to the corpse’s brain.

  T’kon’s eyes widened as he realized what that meant. In all likelihood, every techsmith now knew what had transpired here. If a team had not already been on the way, they were now.

  He jerked the table from the techsmith’s temple, stilling the pulses.

  “If only I had more time,” he whispered, stretching out a hand to touch the cube. A bolt of blue lightning crackled from it, shooting into his gauntlet. The palm heated; the metal smoked from the energy. His thermal dampening had grounded the shot, but there was no guarantee it could stop another.

  Clearly, the cube served the same function for the beast that the arcanotome did for the techsmith: linking it back to a greater collective. If that were the case, removing the tome would cut the planetstrider off from the collective. They’d be unable to order it into battle, effectively losing it until they could find another such cube.

  The question was, how did he remove it? He couldn’t touch it, and there was no way his slug thrower could damage the thick deresium alloy.

  “What if I don’t have to destroy it?” T’kon murmured. He glanced at the arcanotome, then back at the cube.

  In theory, there must be a control to release the cube. If he could release it, then maybe he could take the cube back to the Azi clan.

  There were a dozen abandoned planetstriders who’d been allowed to go wild. No one had ever explained why, but T’kon realized he was probably staring at the reason. Maybe the cubes broke down with age, or maybe they’d been stolen or damaged in battle.

  Whatever the reason, if he could remove thi
s cube it was possible he could insert it into another planetstrider. He could return the Azi to power, allowing them to reclaim some of the worlds taken by the Vkash. He could be a true warrior again, even if it meant following another.

  But the cube was unreachable for the moment. T’kon bent to the console, studying the array of switches and buttons. None were labeled; whatever inscriptions they’d originally borne were long since worn away by countless fingers.

  He briefly regretted the techsmith’s death, but discarded the notion. The techsmith wouldn’t have given him any information, no matter how much pain T’kon had inflicted. He’d been an article of his faith, blindly serving vacant gods.

  The room began to shake. T’kon steadied himself against the wall. Had the techsmith’s death somehow awakened the strider?

  The shaking stopped, then resumed, more violent than before. Sudden light filled the viewport as Vkat’s claw punched through the mound.

  Transport-sized stones and the metal bones of ancient spires were knocked away as Vkat lunged at the wall. It thundered through, crashing into the city. More spires were knocked aside like saplings, and a tremendous waves of wind rushed through the city with every step.

  Hundreds of ant-sized figures scurried away, but those in the path of the planetstrider simply could not escape. They were crushed, obliterated by strider’s immense weight.

  T’kon moved to the viewport, resting his hands on the console as he peered at the city below. Was he responsible for this?

  A squadron of unfamiliar fighters winged by overhead--too quickly to study, but T’kon saw they were bipedal. Flying power armor, or perhaps some sort of mechanized robot? Regardless, they were definitely a new species.

  The mechanized units strafed the planetstrider, volleys of missiles detonating harmlessly along the side of Vkat’s head. The creature ignored them, swinging its cannon into firing position. The weapon pointed toward a battle: the strange aliens clashing with Takkar’s best elites.