by Mars Dorian
“Roger, sir,” Yeltzin said.
Rosco embraced his LZR rifle as he pointed toward the visual soup of the distance. Instinct told him to launch a preemptive attack, but the mission goal was to elicit peace. Maybe the aliens were scared—that sounded ridiculous, they carried the home advantage and the element of surprise. And, Rosco hated to admit, maybe even the better technology.
“Keep close.”
Distance to the life form: 45.3 meters.
The group of red triangles spread out leaving ten to fifteen meter between each of their units. They’re fanning out to launch a flank attack, Rosco thought. Peaceful organisms my ass, these beasts understood combat tactics.
Something whistled through the air. Rosco should have seen from a distance, but the holo-fog clouded his vision. When the projectile impacted with the ground, it was too late.
53
The explosion sounded like something Rosco had never heard before. Worse than the detonation was the effect—his vision drowned in darkness.
I’m blind like a cargo bum.
Rosco waddled around and bumped into someone’s atmogear, probably Yeltzin’s, when shots zapped through the perimeter. Low-frequency burns that sounded like an electronic special effect from the VR simulation. Rosco’s HUD stats showed up as always, now intensified through the black backdrop. Thank tech he wasn’t blind, just…visually blacked out? Hopefully it was just temporary.
“Stay close.”
“Captain.”
Yeltzin’s voice sounded as if he stood twenty meters away.
Rosco thundered his voice. “Stay close I said.”
“I’m trying—“
Another volley of SFX interrupted the gentle giant. Rosco charged his beam but didn’t know where to shoot. Firing blindly meant he could hit his comrades.
Damn.
He marched onward and aimed his LZR rifle at the darkness. He stumbled over something on the ground but shielded his helmet instinctively.
Thank you basic training.
He crawled on the ground and touched the little hill that blocked his path. Not all of the surrounding acted as an illusion—this piece of rock felt real. The motion scanner beeped louder, signaling that the enemy was nearby. His eyes were still dipped into the dark, as if someone cut off the energy supply from his suit. Rosco pushed his atmogear closer to the ground and crawled to avoid incoming shots. More effects buzzed around him as conflicting thoughts battled in his mind:
I have to get out of here.
I have to help my squad.
Where the hex was the ground-pounder when you desperately needed him? Probably surrendering and reciting flakey lines from the ‘verse.
Rosco breathed out his frustration and kept his gloved fingers clutched around the LZR rifle’s round-shaped grip. The darkness around him faltered and a sparkly silhouette appeared in the distance. Rosco charged his laser without a clear target and launched. The invisible beam purred through his elongated barrel and heated up the space before him. No response came, but the red triangle evaded on the motion scanner.
Finally, a reaction.
Rosco swapped for his Rail Revolver and fired HV rounds into the silhouettes. The ultra-fast bullets ripped the air apart with glowing lines and impacted with the shadows in the holo-fog.
Come bring it, you creatures.
The digital soup formed into new shapes. Flickering walls projected around the captain, and a cubed labyrinth of horror emerged.
Not your cheap tricks again, Rosco told himself and continued to zigzag to avoid getting shot by the hostiles. He ran in the opposite direction from where the triangles originated and fired more rounds into the holo-fog. They went right through the illusionary walls. Was he even hitting anything but fragmented air?
The hallucination upgraded.
The floating walls mirrored his own.
Rosco saw himself from all angles. His atmogear, the Rail Revolver in his arms, and the battle pose of both his legs stretched apart. Not too shabby, apart from the shivering arms. He didn’t want to admit it, but fear flushed every cell of his body.
Basic didn’t prepare him for this.
He turned on group-mode and spoke into his comlink. “State your position.”
“Still going blind,” the doctor said.
Ekström didn’t respond; Yeltzin, of course, did. “You’re a hundred and twenty meters south-west of me, sir.”
How the hex did that happen?
A red triangle, followed by two smaller ones, neared his position. Damn alien predators just couldn’t let go. This encounter went straight from peace to piece negotiation.
“Engaging the enemy.”
Aim, fire, forget.
The target in the distance staggered.
Yes, his first hit.
54
Yeltzin stepped out the holo-fog with his massive arms coiled around the LZR rifle. Rosco’s smile eased some of the pressure. “It’s good to see you, Lieutenant. Where’s the other half of the team?”
Yeltzin’s helmet wavered back and forth as he looked around. Rosco couldn’t reach the two on his comm, which troubled his mind.
“We have to find a better cover spot, sir,” the giant said.
Couldn’t argue with that. They ducked and scrambled for better protection. The ground became more rocky with every step which meant the two men were about to reach a real mountain formation. The enemy fire stopped, but the holo-illusion fogged up. Rosco and Yeltzin climbed over the nearby boulders and touched ground on a mountainous path. The giant reconned the area and waved the captain over.
“You found them?”
“Unfortunately not, sir, but I found this.”
He pointed to a slim hole inside the rocky wall leading into whatever lurked below.
“Don’t make me do this, Lieutenant.”
“Just for now, sir. We’re target practice in the open.”
Rosco ground his teeth and gazed into the dark hole; stepping into an unknown cave on an alien planet wasn’t high on Rosco’s bucket list. Thank tech his helmet’s NVD still worked—he switched it on and a fluorescent green graced his vision as it illuminated the rugged interior.
“Pretend it’s space, sir,” Yeltzin said from behind.
“Take the lead, Lieutenant. You’re the groundsman.”
The giant took charge of the two-man unit and scouted with care. Rosco followed him deeper into the abyss and mounted the blocking boulders. The ground, walls, and even the cave’s ceiling sported rocks pointing up or down; cave researchers from the colonies would flip out over the sight of it, but Rosco felt nothing but disdain. One loud echo and half the cave would collapse—it was not your average underground hell.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Rosco said.
“I’ve said my death prayers, sir. I’m ready for the afterlife.”
“Let’s stick to this one first.”
“Aye, aye.”
“Someone’s coming.”
They bowed and looked for a good cover spot. Thankfully, most boulders provided excellent shielding from approaching attackers. The only downside was the trespassing shooters owned a better vantage point. Rosco pressed the back of his atmogear against the rough surface of the nearby rock. A screeching sound scratched through his ear channels, followed by sparks. Rosco breathed in the recycled air from his gear pack supply and checked his biometric avatar. No armor penetration, no severe hull damage except for the scratches on the suit’s surface layers. He watched Yeltzin taking position on the opposite side of the jagged surrounding. He then set up his LZR rifle l and activated the tripod.
“Maybe you want to switch to your rocket launcher,” Rosco said.
“Inside a cave? One shot could bury us.”
Maybe, but better to get buried than be shot by those alien critters.
“Have you seen what they look like?”
“Negative, sir; just silhouettes that appeared to be bigger than me.”
“Psst.”
Silence
surrounded them, followed by a tap-tap echo from the cave entrance. Rosco wanted to peek around the boulder’s corner but was too afraid the attackers would detect him. With their elevated position, the aliens dominated the vantage point and could launch head shots if their tech allowed it.
“Sir, we wait until they enter our perimeter and then flank them. It’s better to tackle them on our level,” Yeltzin whispered into his comlink.
“Well thought.”
Rosco stuck to his Rail Revolver and wrapped his armored fingers around the hot weapon. He heard nothing but his own breath consuming valuable oxygen. Supply was down to sixty-five percent. A volley of thoughts rushed through his mind.
Damn Lo-Skova should have sent an entire elite squad of veteran ground-pounders. An ex-cruiser captain and a touchy-feely soldier wasn’t the most effective way to deal with an alien menace.
The triangles on his motion scanner barely moved. They must have realized something was afoot.
A tap-tap sounded.
Come on, just a little closer.
A bright light flashed his night vision. Rosco shut off his NVD and switched back to standard view to see the source of the light. Azure fire flies swarmed the dark space about fifteen meters in front of him, a little tornado of light brushing around the cave walls.
What the—?
He flicked Yeltzin a glance and pointed toward the light phenomena.
“I don’t know, sir.”
Rosco wanted to shoot the blue swarm but was afraid to give away his location. The blue swarm drew a sharp circle and hovered near his position. He pushed himself down on the ground to hide from their sight.
Were they tech or the aliens themselves?
Nah, an organism that small couldn’t produce ships and pipeline-sized laser beams. The flying swarm dispersed into hundreds of glowing units and circumnavigated his atmogear like blue butterflies. The way they danced around his suit was beautiful and scary. He tried to wave them away but the blue swarm fell in love with him. The azure sensation demanded all of his attention until he noticed Yeltzin’s whispering voice over the comlink. “Sir, watch out. Target at nine o’clock.”
Rosco ignored the blue fire flies and followed the soldier’s direction. Nothing but blackness called back, so he switched to NVD again and saw it. Someone, no, something was peeking around a boulder ten meters to his left.
55
The night vision prevented him from recognizing details, but the shape of the head—if you could call it that—seemed to be…
Damn. Incoming fire.
The energy javelins shot through the air and burned through the rocks around him. Rosco rolled sideways and returned fire. His rail rounds penetrated the cave walls and blew pieces apart. One of the aliens took cover again and waited for its next chance to attack.
“Incoming targets,” Yeltzin yelled through the comm.
Rosco lost himself in the moment and forgot about the red target pointers on his motion sensor display. The group of assailants crept from every direction in the confines of the cave. “Cover me with suppressive fire.”
“Yes, sir.”
Yeltzin used the rock’s surface as a support to steady his aim. He nudged the trigger of his LZR and unleashed a beam of compressed energy that targeted the nearest attacker.
“I think I hit it.”
He sounded rather depressed about it. Rosco already knew why but wasn’t going to dive into meta-spiritual ramblings.
“Don’t give me that ‘life force’ bullshit, just fire at everything.”
Back at the front, the alien lumped from its cover spot about twenty meters away. It seemed to be somewhat humanoid, at least from the waist up. Yeltzin flipped the selective fire mode of his Rail Revolver to fully automatic and rained down rounds onto the wounded creature. One shot missed, the others impacted the carapace skin and penetrated it. The creature didn’t make any noise, but Rosco was sure the soldier caused severe damage. Too bad the cave was swarmed with more of their bio-trash. Bright flashes zapped through the thickened air. The area around Rosco heated up and seemed to dent, which was weird.
Space warped itself.
He scrambled for cover to get the maximum amount of protection. The aliens used some kind of energy weapons, but their effects remained elusive. Nothing about their warfare was human-like. From his current hiding place, he saw Yeltzin throwing a concussion grenade from his boulder cover. Rosco shot him a thumb up when his atmogear’s sensor measured a surge in temperature. A crimson warning side flashed on his HUD but it was too late. An invisible blast broke the boulder in half and the shockwave sent him five meters over the ground.
You got me.
Rosco mitigated the blow with the protection plates of his elbow armor and rolled sideways upon impact.
Armor still in one piece, and so am I; this isn’t over yet.
The nanobots leveled his adrenaline intake and kept the pain to a pleasant low. Somebody give me a ship and I’d wipe out these critters with one command.
He crawled toward the nearest rock formation and saw Yeltzin firing his laser beam at the attackers. Despite his spiritual nonsense, the man was a machine warrior. It was time to join his resistance. With the distance to the alien increased, Rosco returned to his LZR rifle, selected the incoming targets, and fired. His rifle vibrated as the battery charge powered the invisible beam burning through the cave air. The steady shot obliterated the surface armor skin of the moving targets.
No scream of pain. Nothing collapsed.
What was he fighting against?
Flashes, beams, and sparks floodlighted the cave into a crisp crossfire. Despite Rosco’s beaming resistance, the targets closed up, deftly using the rocky ground as cover spots.
Distance to alien: fourteen meters.
Rosco realized he wasn’t going to make it out of this one. He regretted not being on an ICED ship, because dying on some damn alien planet was no proper death for a fleet captain.
For some reason, Yeltzin stopped firing from his cover position. The LZR couldn’t have overheated yet, and the weapon didn’t need mag swaps. Anger roared inside of Rosco and made him shout into the comlink. “What the hex are you doing?”
The blue swarm from before descended like radioactive rain; a bright spider web of electronic charges fanned out between each of the floating fireflies and flashed his vision. His smart helmet dimmed the visual over-stimulation, and Rosco yanked away when a female voice replied from his comm. Sound and view burned out, only the creamy and corrosive light remained as his hand-eye coordination failed. Rosco couldn’t remember whether he was still holding his rifle; worse, his legs gave way.
Body, don’t be a bitch.
Gravity pulled him to the ground.
“Man down,” Rosco said.
The weight of this world seemed to crush him into carbon pieces. In the corner of his eye, he observed a squad of red triangles in his motion sensor approaching from every position.
Damn critters closing in.
Game over?
Before Rosco’s mind zoned out, he heard Lo-Skova’s media-proof voice echoing through his ear channels.
When you reach the frontier, my dear Captain, the rim fights back…
56
Meanwhile at the Daystellar’s flagship carrier, floating near the orbit of Mars. Lo-Skova swam rounds in the aqua tank of the carrier’s rejuvenation deck. The chamber-sized swimming pool was filled with a trademarked liquid that contained five times the oxygen of regular water, which allowed for long dives down. She drew circles through the water and enjoyed being the only one around. It was more than relaxing; it was water therapy that massaged muscles and membrane alike. As usually, the CEO’s relaxation was short-lived. The next time she surfaced, Lo-Skova spotted Dasai Dent standing near the ledge, his arms crossed and legs stretched. Pure alpha pose—probably to power up his next words. For a sinful second, Lo-Skova thought about grabbing his legs and dragging him into the water. But water bombing your prime investor was too
risky, even for an adventurous go-getter like Lo-Skova. She reached the ledge where Dasai sat, rested her arms on the touch-sensitive ground, spat out a mouthful of water, and grinned. “Have you been stalking me?”
Dasai’s face resembled a volcano before the eruption.
“I haven’t received a single report since the crew had reached the rim. Are you purposefully keeping information from me?”
“How could I? You have access to the best encryption system known to the company.” She shook her hair and got rid of the excess water pearls. “If it cools down your nerve strings, I’m as clueless as you. There’s no satellite coverage in the rim—yet—which makes it impossible to send messages back and forth. Of course, that was to be expected.”
Dasai Dent remained on the ledge like a statute made out of titanium. “You seem to be awfully calm about it.”
“The frontier is fun, but it’s also unpredictable. If the crew accomplishes our goal, we’ll have an even bigger access. Tell your face to be happy about it.”
Dasai showed his teeth; big, beautiful and probably powerful enough to crush a boulder.
“If they succeed; I’ve rechecked each of the participating crew members. Based on their psychological profiles, they don’t fit at all. It’s a miracle they haven’t killed each other yet.”
“They do complement each other, my team and I made sure of that. But unlike average team recruitment which favors immediate rapport, I’ve chosen an approach where mutual growth prevails.”
In other words, Lo-Skova valued long-term improvement over erratic short-term success.
Dasai knelt and decreased the distance between his grim face and Lo-Skova’s laissez-faire smile.
“You should have used a regular headhunter team. Your new approach is too risky, given everything that is on the line.”
Lo-Skova averted her eyes. She hated to justify every one of her decisions just because they were a bit out of the ordinary.
“We talked about this. If you deal with new challenges, you have to change your approach. Daystellar’s gotten into this mess because they kept repeating the same old mistakes, and I don’t just mean the asteroid catastrophe. This exoplanet will impact our future—for the better.”