by Andrew Beery
He swore softly to himself as he began a slow jog toward the spaceport. Maybe he could join up with any survivors from that shuttle.
***
Honey adjusted the opacity of the forward view screen. The Honey Dipper was parked in a shuttle bay onboard WhimPy-101. The timing of their arrival had been unfortunate. They had landed on the WhimPy to replenish their supply of various munitions. Like all GCP pinnaces, the Honey Dipper could manufacture her own munitions using fabrication and construction nanites however that required raw materials. Given the large number of aggressive Modos ships in the system and their desire to fire on anything that had a GCP Ident-code, leaving the protective shell of the WhimPy with the Honey Dippyno longer seemed a good idea, especially when there was no effective way to do it while still cloaked. The microsecond the WhimPy lowered a window in its shields the surrounding ships opened fire on the window. This was known because it was exactly what Ricky had tried the moment he heard Cat was in trouble on the planet’s surface.
Honey turned back to face her pilot and captain, Ricky Valen.“We really don’t have a choice.”
“I know that,” he griped sourly.“That doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”
“The GCP second fleet will be here in six hours. She can hold on that long.”
“She’ll have to,” he said, with resignation.
***
Cat crawled out of the wrecked shuttle. Lieutenant Kristi and Commander LeAnder were both in medical stasis. The landing had not been as soft as she had been hoping. The last twenty meters were the roughest. They had clipped a bit of wreckage on the way in which resulted in an uncontrolled tumble as the ill-fated shuttle impacted with the ground of a public garden just outside the space port. Cat’s Heshe nanites protected her but the others were not so lucky.
Commander LeAnder had remained conscious despite a broken arm and cracked rib. He had initially insisted on joining her in exploring their immediate vicinity but Cat’s medical scanner discovered a life-threatening cranial aneurism in the marine. His medical condition was too precarious to continue. Cat ordered him to stand down. She administered specially designed medical nanites to both officers that induced a state of medical stasis. Once done she placed a protective security shield over them. They would be safe until they were rescued or until the shields’ power supply failed in a couple of weeks.
While exploring outside the shuttle, Cat adjusted the optics in her eyes to enhance her distance vision. She scanned the surrounding area with her eyes while asking her internal AI to do the same with its systems. She spotted nothing but her internal sensors noted the location of several pockets of huddling civilians. At the extreme range of her systems she picked up a Mark Six making its way toward the crash site. Whoever it was, he or she was making no attempt to hide their movements. That either meant there were no Modos ground forces in the area or this particular soldier had a reason to be in a hurry.
She continued to scan the area while he approached. Reaching a hand forward she grabbed the side of a crushed ground transport. A mass of silver nanites flowed out of her hand and enveloped the wrecked vehicle. As soon as the silver mass touched metal the flow reversed and began to coat first Cat’s arm and then her entire body. As this happened the ruined transport began to shrivel and shrink.
Once her entire body was coated Cat removed her hand from the wreckage. The Heshe construction and fabrication nanites continued their work. The shiny surface that had initially coated Cat’s entire form began to take on a matte finish as tens of thousands of minute hyperfield emitters began to distribute themselves across the surface of her second skin.
These emitters provided active camouflage as well as shielding from both kinetic and beam weapons. Nanites embedded in the mesh of the second skin actively transported purified air and moisture across its surface. Other nanites responded to changes in the alignment of her arms and legs. Instantly they shifted the surrounding material to allow free and unencumbered movement.
To Cat, the suit felt like she was wearing a light jumper and not several hundred pounds of metal. It was far more effective than the Mark Six combat suits worn by the marines but it required a Heshe-grade encounter unit like the AI embedded in Cat in order to deploy and control it.
Once the initial configuration was complete Cat instructed the shield emitters on her face to make the second skin transparent. She had learned from previous experience that most people found the appearance of a formfitting metallic skin covering her mouth and eyes somewhat disconcerting.
The soldier she had been watching advance toward her position dipped below her line of sight. She decided to move in his general direction.
“Cal,” she called to her embedded AI.
“Yes, Cat?”
“Keep a continuous scan of the surrounding area going. I don’t want any nasty surprises.”
“Already on it, Admiral. There are several dozen armored track vehicles moving in this direction from the northeast. There is sporadic weapons fire from the west and the young man who you were observing earlier has managed to fall in a hole.”
***
Debbu groaned again. The metal beam that had been part of the underground parking garage’s roof still pinned his hind flipper. There was now a hole in the ceiling that allowed light from the street above to filter down. A mortar round had punched a hole in the ceiling just as Debbu was making his way to his electric sled. The beam fell trapping him. That had been a day ago.
The timing could not have been worse. Debbu had been on his way to a secret facility located in the northern outskirts of the city in an installation called JasNair Observatory. There he would find a radio transmitter that the freedom fighters used to send a message to a waiting drone resting in a powered-down state on the surface of Naanac’s largest moon. The drone, which had been sitting idle for years, could only be used once. On power-up it would relay a specially coded hyperfield message to the Modos Liberation Front that an uprising on Naanac had begun. A very important return message would be sent. It was a disarm code for certain devices hidden about the planet. The information contained in that message would be absolutely critical if his world was to survive any potential victory.
The Modos Syndicate had special‘poison-pill’ protocols in place for handling territories seeking to disengage from Syndicate control. If it looked like the world in question was about to secede then these protocols were triggered. The protocols, if implemented, did not allow the worlds in question to survive the attempt. The nature of the“poison-pill” varied from world to world. In the case of Naanac the“poison-pill” took the form of a series of high-yield thermonuclear devices that would foul the oceans and atmosphere. What life did survive would struggle for several millennia. This was a battle his people could not win… even with the help of the GCP. Finding a way to get to that radio station was a matter of life and death… not just for him but for his world.
Unfortunately, every time he tried to move he could feel the broken bone in his leg grating. Even worse than the pain of the leg was the pain he was feeling all over as his skin continued to dry out. It had been well over a day since he had been able to wet it. His people lived the majority of their lives on land but their amphibious nature meant they needed to keep their skin moist. Normally this was not a problem but normally he was not trapped by the collapse of a building away from a source of life-giving water.
He tried to shift the beam again and free his trapped leg. The scream that escaped his parched lips would have awaken the dead if that were indeed possible. The noise however did not go unnoticed. He heard a rustling near the collapsed opening of the roof. Someone must have overheard his scream. He immediately became quiet. He had no idea who was up there. They could be friend or foe. How was he to know? His heart began to race in panic. He was trapped… he was trapped… his mind repeated the thought. He shook his fog-laden head. He was trapped. It didn’t matter who this was that had heard his scream. He was dead if he remained trapped much longer.
“HELP!” he tried to yell but his voice was raspy.“HELP… is anybody out there? HELLLLLP!”
A few stones fell from the opening above him as someone made their way toward the rift. A metallic head peered over the edge. It was not a sight he would soon forget. They only good news was that whoever this was he/it/she did not appear to be a Modos. If he had to guess he suspected it was a member of the so-called Galactic Coalition but in some sort of battle armor he was unfamiliar with. It looked formidable.
“Are you all right?” a voice called down from above. The accent was the familiar metallic one Debbu associated with the GCP’s electronic translators. He immediately felt better. This was not the Syndicate.
“I’m pinned under a beam,” Debbu croaked weakly. His throat was so dry he wasn’t sure the soldier would be able to hear him. Obviously he was hard to hear because the man moved closer to the edge. More stones and dust fell.
“I’ll be right down… I just need toooooo… oh CRAPPPP!” the man yelled as a much larger mass of stones and dirt began to fall. These were followed by about three hundred pounds of soldier encased in a somewhat battered Mark Six combat suit. The latter came tumbling head over heels down through the now somewhat larger hole in the ceiling.
As the soldier fell a much bigger portion of the roof began to collapse with him. Debbu had been sure that this was the final moment of his life but the Creator obviously had additional plans for him because to his complete and utter amazement not a single piece of the flying debris touched him.
When the dust cleared the GCP soldier was upside down and half buried under a mass of stone and steel. Debbu thought he must be dead but the man began to move and with incredible strength began to dig himself out. Unknown to the Naan, the GCP Mark Six combat suit was fully equipped with momentum dampers and various other systems designed to keep its occupant safe. Still
Before the soldier had finished extracting himself from the rubble a second person made an appearance at the now quite significant opening above the wrecked garage. Whoever this was they looked completely different than the first soldier. This person was quite obviously a human female however she was dressed in what looked to be a light metallic form-fitting suit. Everything but her face was covered with some type of gray metallic cloth that showed no signs of seams or segmentation. To be honest he was quite baffled by her appearance.
“Hold tight. I’ll be right down,” the woman yelled from above. Her accent held none of the synthetic components that had flavored the other man’s speech. Had he not been watching her speak he would have sworn he was listening a native of Naanac rather than a person born on a rock orbiting an impossibly distant star in another universe.
***
Chairman Snatch Bait watched the external feed being piped into the bridge by the engineer he had sent outside to scrub the exterior hull of the MS Typhoon. It had been intended as a punishment detail and as such Snatch Bait would normally not even be remotely interested in watching the young fools’ progress but a chance discovery made by the idiot changed that.
There appeared to be a device of unknown origin attached to the hull of the Typhoon. Snatch Bait immediately ordered an inspection of all the capital ships in the fleet. The results were concerning. Somehow over a dozen or more ships had one or more of the devices on them. All employed some sort of cloaking technology and were only found by literally bumping into the units while physically exploring the hull.
Snatch Bait wasn’t sure what bothered him most… that there could be additional devices yet undiscovered; that they didn’t know what the damn things did when activated; or perhaps worse… they didn’t know how the enemy had managed to plant them in the first place.
He ordered the devices removed and taken to one of two separate ships. The Black Dread was tasked with discovering what the devices did. Meanwhile the MS Early Tide would hold the devices not being examined so that in the event something happened to the Dread the Syndicate would still have some of the alien technology to examine.
Chapter Eleven– Rescue...
Cat bent down and misted water on the exposed arms and legs of the Naan named Debbu. When she found him, he had been trapped under a fallen metal beam. She and Private Stone had carefully lifted it off the alien’s injured leg. Fortunately her Heshe encounter unit had the recorded schematics of a wide number of devices including a medical scanner. Her construction nanites quickly fabricated the required unit and she carried out a rapid assessment of the injury.
“The bone is broken in two places. I can move the pieces back in place and reinforce the base structure with a form-fitting stainless steel sheath over the bone but without a better understanding of your cellular anatomy I can’t actually knit the bone. The sheath will serve as an internal cast which can be removed later.”
The Naan looked her in the eyes. The expression of concern is a near universal one and his reflected the fear he was feeling.
Cat placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.“I’ll use medical nanites… very small microscopic machines that will build the support sheath from the inside. The good news is your neurophysiology is very similar to my species. That being the case, I’ll be able to put a temporary spinal block in place that will keep you from feeling any pain while the medical nanites do their work. With any luck you’ll be almost good as new in just a little while.”
Debbu gripped her arm with a webbed hand.“The pain does not matter. I need to be mobile. I was on a mission of immense importance. When can you begin?”
Cat smiled.“I already have… you should feel your legs go numb in just a few moments. After that you should be able to try walking carefully in the next five or ten minutes.”
***
Admiral Faragon rubbed his eyes. Lord in Heaven he was tired. Commodore Ruck’s holographic image waited patiently.
“Jason,” Faragon continued“Your mission is absolutely critical to our success but I just don’t have anything I can send you. The second fleet is out of the question. Every ship we have is engaged, destroyed or preparing to defend critical assets. The flood of Syndicate ships coming through the SgrA conduit is beyond comprehension. The bottom line is... we are working as fast as we can to free up assets to send your direction but we’re looking at a couple of days at a minimum.”
Jason’s image flickered as he adjusted his stance.“Sir, I understand. Are there any supply ships available?”
Admiral Faragon waved his hand toward the nanite enhanced sapphire glass window in his office on Orbital One.“Those we have in abundance… but they are lightly armed and have negligible shields. I’m not sure how useful they could be to you in a fight.”
Jason’s image grinned.“Sir, Admiral Kimbridge has some interesting ideas about that. If you could send a couple our way it could be a real game changer for us.”
“I might have known Cat would have something up her sleeve. Do you need anything special loaded on those transports?”
Jason’s smile broaden.“Why yes sir… Now that you mention it… there is.”
***
“We’ll need to find cover soon!” Cat yelled over the sound of scattered gunfire in the distance.“My sensor feeds are showing sixteen incoming dragonflies. I’m not worried about our thermal signatures with all the fires burning in this section of the city but you can bet those boys aren’t coming to just do a fly-by. How far away are those underground tram tunnels you were talking about Professor?”
Debbu glanced about the ruins that had until just a few days ago been a model of immaculate city living. His view was obscured somewhat by Private Stone’s helmet. The private was carrying the university professor on his back. Although he could now walk with limited assistance he was too weak from his injuries and lack of food and water to make good time.
“I think that’s Sprok’s Gourmet Bug Market over there on the right… or at least what is left of it. If it’s true then the entrance should be just down that street.” He pointed down a larger but rubble-strewn street.
Cat looked at Private Stone.“You up for a quick jog?”
“Give the word Ma’am. My Stark’s got a pretty good charge and this guy seems pretty light.”
Cat checked her sensors. They had about four minutes until they would be at greatest risk from blockbuster shrapnel. The dragonflies had been tearing up this part of Harromog. GCP ground forces had been dealing with them effectively using ground-to-air missiles but the arrival of track-based armor to the east meant the marines needed to redeploy to deal with that more pressing threat. Cat hated ordering Lieutenant Myers to abandon air defense but it had been a case of limited resources, manpower and options. She had ordered the ships in orbit to utilize their beam weapons in an air-defense role as best they could. It was unfortunately only partially effective. The enemy had learned to fly low -- using gulley’s, ravines and valleys to evade the overhead weapons.
“Move out!” Cat said out loud.“We should be clear for several minutes and my AI is not showing any sniper activity in the immediate vicinity.”
Silently she spoke to her AI.‘Cal… continuous scan. If there is a mouse out there I want to know about it before the mouse does.’
Quickly the three made their way across the street working their way between burnt out cars and the occasional corpse. The remains of a bombed out building on the corner was their immediate destination.
Cat peeked around the corner. It was clear. Her AI would have alerted her to any bio-signatures had they been present. She pulled back as Debbu and Private Stone caught up. At the same time her comm beeped for her attention.
Signaling the others to remain silent she responded to the hail. “Kimbridge here”
“Admiral, this is Lieutenant Myers. We have our hands full here. Without air support we are having a hard time slowing their armor down. First Platoon is trying a flanking maneuver to see if they can’t get some of their boys in position to take a shot at them but as it stands now they can hit us before we can hit them.”