by Mars Dorian
Rosco contemplated the proposition.
The aliens referred to the cartel freighter decaying in the no man’s land. Rosco couldn’t promise to prevent any other human group from invading their realm. Hex, apart from the Sunblood, there were thousands of criminal organizations doing shady business from Earth to Venus. But maybe Daystellar could arrange a deal with ICED to keep this planet off-limits; an alien reservoir under interstellar protection. It could work if all participating members worked together.
“Captain?” Ming pressed her voice.
The aliens flinched, but maybe that was a gesture Rosco misjudged. Their reactions felt foreign.
“Tell them we’ll take care of the criminals, and then specify how we’re different from the Sunbleeders to avoid further mistrust. In exchange, we want to set up peace talks with our Daystellar representatives. You’re the diplomat here, Doctor.”
“That’s right, sir.”
With a smile, she updated the symbols.
It was weird to be part of a conversation that didn’t require words. The aliens didn’t even produce a sound. They just shivered once in a while or shifted on the ground with their lower body tail. Eight of them remained in the chamber and directed their glances at the humans. Despite Ming being in control of the situation, the tension sizzled. Rosco’s finger remained half a second away from his cutter. Yeltzin stood next to him and winked; the gentle giant understood Rosco’s worries.
“The Elder accepts your offer and wants to know what you plan to do next.” Ming updated.
“Tell them there’s still a survivor in the derelict freighter. We’ll pay him a visit, take him prisoner, and have a serious conversation about trespassing on private property.”
Rosco waited until Ming found the adequate symbols that conveyed his message. He thought of the lonely merc in the freighter, guarding it like a savaged hunter. Maybe he was already dead. Maybe he was way too loony to conduct a conversation.
But it was the only chance at this point. Rosco still couldn’t send an update to Lo-Skova—the crew was too far away from nearest sat array in the colonial system. And the sooner he disarmed this dispute, the better for him, his crew, and Daystellar.
Ming’s eyes warmed up. Something reminiscent of a smile blessed her lips.
“The Elder says they’ll join our mission.”
The aliens produced a new set of hieroglyphs. Rosco still couldn’t read them, but he noticed this array was bigger than the last. He noticed Ming swallowing hard.
“What is it, Doctor?”
“They say we better not betray them, or else…”
She didn’t need to finish the sentence. Rosco and Yeltzin had witnessed their impressive armament and their willingness to use them.
“Boom,” the captain said with a smile. “Threats and warfare. Welcome to my world, Doctor.”
66
“They will allow us to use our LRV, including the weapons, but the second we break their trust… they’ll do something about it.”
“Shoddy word choice, Doctor.”
“I’m merely interpreting what their symbols say, Captain. So far, I understand six hundred and fifty, plus most of their iterations. But their specific meaning still eludes me.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s either peace or war, no PhD in xenology required. Tell them we’re heading toward the freighter now.”
“I already did.”
An alien in the second row led the way into one of the adjacent corridor holes. This specimen was taller than its peers but still shorter than Rosco and zigzagged along the patterns of the ground. The crew, including the engineer, followed. During the walk, Rosco brushed Ming’s shoulder plates and whispered into his comm. He was still suspicious about the alien’s lack of hearing.
“Doctor, what did you mean by Elder?”
“It looks like they use a hierarchical system based on their age, sir. The older one is, the more power one commands within the tribe. But that’s a guess and shouldn’t be counted as a fact.”
Everything was a guess at this stage.
The second they traversed the exit, the ground shifted. The patterns propelled everyone forward like a flat-lined lift.
“Practical,” Rosco said.
Ming grinned.
She seemed to be the only crew member who enjoyed the situation; maybe because the crew’s wellbeing depended on her performance.
“It’s a horizontal lift taking us to the right membrane.”
“Membrane?”
“Haven’t you noticed, Captain? The entire structure seems to be an organic structure with technological enhancements.”
She stroked the walls. “It’s almost impossible to notice where the organism begins and the technology ends.”
Yes, it was unique, but Rosco didn’t like the way Ming swooned over the alien infrastructure. Too much infatuation over one’s test subject clouded judgement. And clarity was the alpha and omega when dealing with unknown life.
“Now let’s be frank, Doctor. Do you trust them?”
She eyed his face and hesitated. Rosco wondered whether she didn’t know what to say or whether she was constructing the perfect answer.
“Remember, we’re dealing with an exotic life form that has very little in common with humans. Just because we share a couple of concepts, it doesn’t mean we’re similar.”
She pursed her lips again and caused her trademark noise whenever she resisted the captain’s opinion, which was most of the time.
“I have an interstellar masters in xenology, remember?”
“School theory and life experience are dimensions apart, Doctor. Every plan we cooked up at ICED mission briefings burned down the second we made contact with the enemy.”
“I understand your mistrust, Captain. But given our previous encounter with the life form, it is probable that they want peace with us. Only a savage species answers with violence.”
Rosco wondered if she slipped ambiguity into her last statement. Ming had a way with words that made it impossible to decipher her true meaning. For the sake of the fragile situation, Rosco decided to glance over that.
The doctor continued. “Every passing minute, I’m learning a couple of new symbols and combinations. It’s only a matter of decryption phases until I have adequately mastered their beautiful language.”
Rosco nodded because, frankly, there was nothing else to add. The moving ground took them to an adjacent cave-like hangar with various bays shielded from their sight. Amidst the organic design, he recognized an object that stood out like a naked cadet at the ceremony. The beloved Daystellar Light Reconnaissance Vehicle.
“My darling,” Yeltzin said.
He marched toward the hood and stroke its armored wheels like the arms of a newborn.
Rosco smiled. “I thought that according to verse philosophy, you’re not supposed to get attached to material objects.”
“Enjoying a material’s existence doesn’t mean I’m emotionally attached to it, sir. I’m appreciating the tech of the LRV, but shall it vanish, I will continue to live without suffering.”
“Well, before it vanishes into the ‘verse, make sure it gets us to the freighter.”
“Aye, sir.”
The HUD inside Rosco’s helmet blinked the oxygen supply’s percentage in rapid succession. The orange font grew twice in size.
Warning. Oxygen 27.3%.
During the conversation, the captain had forgotten about his consumption. Hex, he had even tuned out the fact he was still wearing an atmogear inside an alien base filled with toxic atmosphere. Thank tech the nanobots had efficiently prolonged the lifespan of the oxygenator pack.
“Team, before we roll off, we’ll have to do an oxy swap.”
The engineer spoke for the first time since the reunion. “Ersatz oxygenators stacked up. Enough for everyone.”
Rosco accessed the cargo trunk of the LRV and detached the canisters from the survival boxes then handed each squad member a unit which they used to refill their s
upply. Yeltzin wiped the surface of his canister. “When I was still in basic, a single refill would last us a couple of hours. Now we can enjoy a single load for a couple of days. Amazing how far nanobot tech has taken us.”
The engineer nodded in his bowing pose. “Nanobots: love or loathe ‘em. Can’t live without ‘em.”
The squad smiled and manned the vehicle.
Yeltzin cranked up the machine; Rosco sat shotgun while the doctor and the engineer owned the backseats. The captain stared out the window slits and noticed a group of four aliens entering their vehicle on the other side of the membrane bay. A caterpillar-like craft with crawler chassis rolled out—another marriage between organic and technological design that looked impressive but wasn’t state-of-the-art. Their machine still used tracks as means of mobility, which meant they couldn’t be more advanced than the humans. Or maybe they purposely showcased old tech to deceive.
It was confusing.
“This is just a theory, Captain,” Ming said while Yeltzin U-turned the LRV inside the hangar.
“Speak your mind, Doctor.”
“I think the planet’s strong gravity shaped their body and tech. They have to use their massive built and muscles to counterbalance the strong gravity.”
“Explain.”
“Well, you do know that the natural humans from Earth are the strongest from all the colonies in the solar system. Humans who hail from the Moon, Venus, or Mars are naturally thinner because of their relatively weak gravity. And although it’s an oversimplification, one can say that the weaker the pull, the weaker the body.”
That made sense, Rosco thought.
Although the best soldiers nowadays came from the Martian Republic, it took the government and corporations an insane amount of money and natural resources to breed them. Creating super soldiers on Earth was cost-efficient due to their human-friendly environment and strong gravity. Only their world government’s focus on peace policies had decreased their military efforts, which made Mars the biggest troop contributor to ICED. Forty-five percent of all colonial ground-pounders were bred on the red planet.
Yeltzin maneuvered the LRV from its parking spot and followed the alien caterpillar vehicle. They approached what seemed to be a shutter gate, but was yet another illusion that disappeared once they drove through.
67
They rocketed through the canyons at full throttle. Rosco glanced out the window slit and prepared himself mentally while his eyes drowned in the washed-out boulder formations. Same blandness as before, but at least it started to feel familiar at this stage. Rosco’s desire to deal with novelty dwindled by the moment. Still, he had no reasons to complain; for the first time since the temporal compression, the mission went according to plan. Rosco felt a rare sense of pride flooding him. If only the High Command of ICED could see what he was accomplishing here. Those fools, they’d melt with embarrassment once he returned. Rosco thought of her in particular, and hoped she’d somehow be watching his progress.
M, can you see me now? The way I take responsibility, and protect my team, I’m out here in the no man’s land, rocking the rim, fighting the enemies on the frontier—
Cutting short Rosco’s thoughts, the engineer updated. “Distance to freighter: one hundred and forty-seven point four kilometers.”
Rosco smiled. Dealing with the aliens was probably the toughest challenge of the operation. The Sunblood goons were dangerous as well, but he knew about their tactics and twisted ideology. Plus, it was only one crazy survivor against a Daystellar squad and its so-called alien allies. What the hex could possibly go wrong?
“Detecting enemy,” Ekström said.
“What?”
Rosco’s motion sensor didn’t pick up anything, but its change was relatively short.
“Doc, are your drones still outside?”
“Only Lily. Flying high, alien sky.”
It seemed as though the engineer’s tech toys actually provided value to the operation. Rosco peeked out the armored windows but couldn’t see anything other than canyons and gray skies.
“What are you detecting?”
“Scout fighters, four of them. No transponder signal, no ID. Illegal,” the engineer said.
Probably more Sunbleeders.
But all the way out here? This planet wasn’t nearly as undiscovered as Lo-Skova had made him believe. But what the hex did these cartel bastards want that they kept on dispatching more and more units?
“Doctor, connect with our alien allies. I’ve got a message for them.”
She flipped on her drawing application and projected the digital wireframe interface.
“Ready when you are, sir.”
68
“Are they targeting us?”
“Not yet,” Ekström said.
Rosco acted the captain’s part again. “Doctor, tell our allies that these vessels are hostile and that they can be shot down on sight.”
“Maybe we should shoot them down,” Yeltzin said, “to prove that our resolution is genuine.”
It didn't sound like something one would read in the ‘verse, but Rosco appreciated his soldier’s contribution.
“Good idea. Does the auto-turret offer ground-to-air defense?”
“It was designed to take down low-to-medium armored vehicles, but it comes with tracking abilities and smart shells, so a light scout vessel shouldn’t be a problem.” He grinned. “Besides, I still have my mobile rocket launcher.”
The distance to the freighter wreckage decreased to nineteen point three kilometers. With the planet’s size, it couldn’t be a coincidence that the scout ships descended here. They had to be looking for the derelict ship.
“Lock-on.”
Let’s hope these vessels didn’t carry rocket pods.
“Get that turret rolling, Yeltzin.”
“Auto-mode activated, sir.”
The sound of sentry shells ripped through the atmosphere. Ratatatatata. The gun detected the scout fighters sooner than Rosco could. He zoomed in with his HUD and noticed four dots plunging from the gray skies.
“Incoming.”
“Putting the LRV on auto-pilot, sir.”
Four arrow-shaped scouts dove for the ground attack. HV shells whistled through the air and tore through up the terrain. A volley hit the LRV’s rear side and penetrated the surface layers of the armor plates. Rosco could feel the impact shaking through his atmogear.
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“Hood hull layer penetration but no vital system hit,” Yeltzin reported.
The turret on the vehicle’s mount spat projectiles and pierced one of the attacking scout vessels, now floating a few hundred meters above them. The ship spiraled down with a smoking trail and kissed the ground with a disappointing explosion.
“Finally,” Ming said with a stutter in her voice.
The three remaining scouts entered a new attack trajectory and increased altitude.
“Incoming drones.”
“Remedy,” the engineer said from the backseat, still playing with his tech tools. He opened his side of the door while the LRV hustled on overdrive. Rosco gasped.
“What the—?”
“Drone versus drone.”
The engineer grabbed a disk-shaped device from his gear pack, activated the system, and let it go. The object turned out to be one of the Ekström’s own drones, although this variant looked different from the surveillance unit called Lily. It was twice as big and came with an onslaught of exterior modules. The drone launched from his hands and ascended into the hostile skies. The engineer shut the door and grinned at the captain. “Tiger’s turn.”
Rosco nodded and watched the air action through the armored glass of the front shield. With the help of his zoom, he saw Tiger firing its darts at the drones from the Sunblood scout ships. Two hostile units shattered under the needle fire.
Rosco whistled. “This baby’s on fire.” He turned back to engineer. “But is it strong enough to take down scout ships?”
&nb
sp; Ekström shrugged and eyed his monitor. The gun on the roof was still firing, but the scout ships seemed to ascend to a higher altitude to escape the volleys. Rosco ground his teeth and hammered the dashboard. “That turret’s useless.”
“Lock-on detected,” the engineer said. “This one’s a missile.”
Scouts with missiles? Damn mercs and their illegal customized tools of destruction. Rosco’s voice wavered for the first time. “Does this thing come with point-defense?”
“Yes, sir.”
Rosco should have eased up, but he couldn’t. This LRV, no matter how advanced, was still not comparable to an agile ship. The enemy fighters moved on a three dimensional plane while the vehicle was restricted to two.
Rosco eyed the dashboard monitor and saw four red triangles closing in on their location. The point-defense activated, and two of the explosive projectiles beeped out of existence. One detonated five seconds later, but the last one broke through and neared the LRV within a couple of hundred meters. Rosco wasn’t going to wait until the laser targeted it. He yelled at Yeltzin, who turned the vehicle around with tire spikes shredding the rocky ground.
“Fan out.”
All four escaped the LRV. Yeltzin knelt and juggled the mobile launcher on his left shoulder plate. He flapped open its targeting menu and spoke. “Target: nearest scout ship. Lock-on: Thruster.”
He squeezed the trigger and puked out an explosive heat-seeker projectile the size of a pipe. The long-range rocket curved through the atmosphere and disappeared into the cloud layers. Seconds later, debris of a scout wreckage rained down.
Yeltzin smiled. “Back to the dust you go.”
With the final enemy rocket was shot down by the LRV’s laser, Rosco smiled too but felt uncomfortable about being so useless. His LZR Coil was weak against aerial fighters. And unlike Yeltzin’s soldier breed, he’d break the bones in his body trying to carry a mobile rocket launcher.
“More lock-ons,” the engineer said.
Doctor Brakemoto pushed her atmogear back against the battered LRV’s left side and tried her best not too freak out. Rosco stared at the alien caterpillar craft standing idle about fifty meters from their position. The sight infuriated him. Rosco used his comlink to fire his rant at the doctor. “Why aren’t your alien friends helping us?”