From their new perspective, it was obvious how the wall circling the mine had come into being. The forest had simply been ripped open and pushed back to create a space large enough for the rows of buildings and the landing base that spread out below them. It must have taken months and expended a lot of resources to move that much forest. The wall created by the resulting detritus was nothing short of astounding.
The base inside the wall seemed mostly quiet now. There were half a dozen smaller vehicles—similar to the one that had tracked them to the coast—parked outside one of the larger buildings. The large landing base at the eastern end of the area was currently empty, but Benson could imagine the cargo ships landing there to take on loads of agsel ore. Unfortunately for the thieves below, that ore belonged to the Shiale Alliance.
“What are they doing at the wall to the east?” Ming asked.
Benson looked in that direction, beyond the ship landing area, and saw two giant machines, each with dual, clawlike appendages.
“What the crud?”
The machines seemed to be eating away at the wall. As he watched, the mechanical claws—each easily the size of a carrier—sliced into the berm, chewed away at a section, then pushed the resulting debris off to one side. The machines had little difficulty managing the largest sections of the mammoth tree trunks.
“I’ve never seen machines like that,” Benson said, “but it’s obvious how they were able to clear the forest and make that wall. Those things are no joke.”
“What now, LT?” Aquino asked.
Benson thought for a moment, working through options. Attacking the base was out of the question. Returning to the Agate made little sense. Rescue was months away. All they could do was stay alive until then and keep an eye on the enemy. He had a feeling the machines working hard at the wall below were a result of the Agate’s unexpected arrival. They had to know what was going on.
“We set up an outpost here. Two rangers, on a rotating schedule, to keep an eye on the situation below. Other than that, we stay hidden. And alive.” Benson looked right and left at the two men on either side. “Questions?”
Chapter 13
Eli advanced slowly, his suit’s camo system engaged. The location his suit had provided as the likely location for the Agate was just ahead. He had no desire for surprises, so he moved under the assumption that the crash site was occupied by hostile forces.
Sometime during his previous evening’s sleep, the rain had slowed from a torrential pour to a slow drizzle. The surface was still a muddy quagmire, though, so he was still using the second, dim level to travel. He noted a break in the routine sameness of the forest ahead and knew the PEACE armor had led him to the correct location.
Five long, slow minutes later, he was looking down at the rear section of the ship. The wreckage had broken through the upper levels and in so doing had opened up enough of the overhead cover that he didn’t need night vision. The crash lay before him like an offering surrounded by a halo of dim light. A roughly twenty-five meter length of hull lay below, which meant that 80 percent of the scout vessel had landed somewhere else. Eli looked east and noted a broken trail of forest leading in that direction. There was little doubt that the trail revealed the path the rest of the ship had taken after shedding the section below.
The agsel drives were nearly intact, but Eli doubted they’d ever push another ship through space. The rest of the ship’s stern—the portion of the vessel that had fallen with the drives—hadn’t fared as well. The landing bay and storage compartments that had made up the rear of the craft were largely crumpled, crushed beneath the heavy drives. All in all, though, he thought the damage wasn’t that bad. Apparently, the forest layers had helped soften the ship’s fall, just as they had prevented his plummeting body from crashing directly to the surface. Perhaps the forward portion of the ship had fared as well? And if so, what did that mean for survivors? His pulse quickened at the thought, but he pushed the emotions down and forced himself to focus on the task at hand.
One thing at a time, Eli. Control what you can control.
The ranger took a deep breath, settled down into a comfortable vantage point, and began studying the wreckage that spread out beneath his position. After thirty minutes of observation without seeing any movement, he decided it was safe to proceed. Or at least as safe as it could be, given he didn’t know who or what had knocked them from the sky. Either way, his stomach was going on day four without food and—having already made the decision to forgo raw wolf—he had no other options. The storage areas contained in the wreck below might have been damaged, but that didn’t mean nothing could be salvaged.
Once the decision was made, Eli didn’t wait. He made his way to the nearest tree trunk and began the long climb down.
On the surface, he quickly found himself fighting the knee-high, sucking muck of the level. Each step was a chore, even with the suit’s assistance, but he fell into a lift-pull-throw routine that moved his legs forward and eventually delivered him to his destination. Neither his eyes nor his suit detected any other presence in or around the wreckage, but he still moved cautiously and remained alert.
When he finally reached the broken sliver of hull upon which the drives had been mounted, he knelt down into the muck and placed his right hand on the metal. The touch sensors in his glove transferred the cool wetness of the hull just as if he were touching it with his bare hand. More importantly, the sensors relayed no vibrations emanating from inside the broken hull. If anyone—friend or foe—had taken refuge from the rain inside the wreckage, they weren’t moving around.
Satisfied that he had performed his due diligence, Eli traipsed left, quietly skirting the hull so he could look into the interior of the vessel. Reaching the open breach where the rear had separated from the forward portion of the ship, he slowly poked his head around the hull wall and got his first view inside the broken hull. Twisted metal, loose wires and busted pipes gave way to an empty, darkened space. He keyed his night vision and spied ten meters of familiar corridor. The corridor beyond that point, where his jogging path should have turned left, was crushed beneath the drives.
Having no use for an empty corridor, Eli moved forward, eager to inspect the rest of the ruined ship. The landing bay area was next. Empty. No carriers. That was good. It meant someone had probably had time to evacuate. Eli did some quick math. The ship had been moving slowly—only a few hundred kilometers per hour—when it was attacked. It had tried to speed up after the attack, but the single drive and the gravitational pull of the planet had prevented it from gaining significant velocity. It might have taken several minutes for the ship to crash, which might allow most of the crew to escape. All three carriers were absent, he noted, which hinted at a mass exodus.
Eli felt better than he had in days. He wasn’t the only Alliance member stranded on the planet. He hoped the others were doing okay and put finding them at the top of his mental “to do” list.
Buoyed by the thought of finding others, he moved on toward the next cross section of the ship: the storage areas. Before he even reached the far wall of the landing bay, he saw several packets floating in the muck and he quickened his step, certain that he’d found what his stomach needed.
He plucked up the first packet he encountered, brought it to his face mask and read the contents: green bean paste. Ugh. He chucked the packet over his shoulder and reached for another. Beef stew—his favorite.
Holding the packet tightly, Eli climbed up and into the storage compartment from which the packets had spilled. He found himself surrounded by cases and cases of food. He was both surprised and elated by the discovery.
Excited by the prospect of food, he settled down among the boxes and prepared to eat his first meal in days. He ripped open the package of stew, lifted it to his mouth . . . and recognized the problem. Flock! He couldn’t eat the stew through his face mask. He loved his PEACE armor and couldn’t imagine his life without it. But one of the serious downsides was the inability to eat solid
food while wearing it. In order to do so, he had to remove his helmet—not a good idea on an unknown planet, despite the indications it was habitable by humans. The paste packets were specifically designed for use with the armor, but most of them were terrible.
With a sigh, Eli allowed the stew to slip from his fingers. It hit the ground with a plop and he watched as the beef, vegetables, and gravy escaped into a puddle. His stomach growled.
Resigned to culinary anguish, he stood and began searching through the boxes and crates that surrounded him. Beef stew. Mac and cheese. Spaghetti. Scrambled eggs. With increasing urgency, he read every case, carton and package he found. Dry cereal. Baked Beans. Fish. Apples. It took him thirty minutes to scour the entire space, but there was no denying it.
The only food paste on this part of the ship was green beans.
No flocking way!
Cursing the absurdity of the situation in which he found himself, he did the only thing a reasonable person could do. He slumped down, released the catch on his helmet, and reached for a fresh packet of beef stew.
Chapter 14
Eli rolled off the metal shelf he’d been using for a bed and landed softly on the pads of his feet. The floor was damp, but that was okay. He hadn’t felt this good since crashing onto Cerbius. A full stomach, a shelter over his head, and the ability to sleep—crud, even just to be—outside of his PEACE armor were salves for his bruised physical and emotional states. What gave him the most peace of mind, though, was the thought that at least some of his shipmates and fellow rangers had likely escaped the crash.
He moved aside several of the crates he’d used to form a wall between his temporary nest and the outside, then took his first look at the new day. Sometime in the night, the rain had stopped. The ground was still muddy, but the water sitting atop the mud had either been absorbed into the soil or evaporated.
It was hot and muggy. A glance through the broken overhead canopies above showed a clear blue sky. Good. He needed to recharge his suit before moving on. The power reading had fallen to 43 percent. Still enough power for another day or two at normal operation, but he didn’t want to press his luck. He didn’t know what he might encounter next on this crazy journey and wanted to be at or near full power before continuing on. That meant hanging out in the sun of the higher layers for a few hours.
Not a problem. He was ready for a dull, boring day of doing little but recharging—both his batteries and the suit’s.
Satisfied with where the day was heading, he took some time to prepare. First, he fashioned a pack out of a spare jumpsuit he found, then filled it with several packages of food and bottled water. Next, he searched for anything he could use as a weapon. Unfortunately, the armory was located near the center of the ship, which meant his options were limited. His gaze settled on a length of metal pipe that hung from the ceiling. He jumped up, grabbed it, and pulled. It took a few minutes of wrenching back and forth and up and down, but the pipe was eventually wrested loose. Eli didn’t know the pipe’s former use and didn’t really care. Its diameter and length made it an adequate staff—a weapon he was well versed in using for defense. It wasn’t as good as his Ginny, but it was better than nothing and would have to do.
Equipped with food, water, and the staff, Eli redonned his suit. He hadn’t realized just how banged up his armor was until he’d shed it the previous evening. The back of the suit was covered in deep scratches that ran vertically from head to toe. There was a fist-size indentation on the back of the helmet that suggested he might have crashed through at least one layer of forest headfirst. Frankly, he was surprised—and thankful—that the armor had performed so well. He was alive and the suit’s systems seemed fully operational. It was nothing short of a miracle and he silently thanked the engineers who’d designed the equipment.
After a final check of the armor, he snapped the helmet in place, slung the pack over his shoulder, and set out for the nearest trunk.
Fifteen minutes later, he was nestled comfortably in the uppermost branches of the tree. After two days of rain, the sun beating down on his face was a welcome change. The armor’s systems kept him cool, but he could imagine how the sun’s rays would have felt against his skin if he hadn’t been suited up, and he reveled in the ersatz warmth.
He checked the power reading—still 43 percent—set his proximity alarm, and rested his helmeted head back against the trunk of the tree.
The birds and other flying animals were out in full force this morning. Thousands of winged creatures of all sizes and colors—no doubt also glad for the sun’s return—filled the skies above, below, and around him.
It was a rare thing for a soldier, Eli thought, but for the moment, all he had to do was sit back, enjoy the wildlife show, and wait.
Chapter 15
How long before we can launch? Grant asked, staring up at the two behemoth motherships. They were the largest and newest additions to the Alliance fleet and they were needed right away.
Yuh blinked and nodded his large, bulbous, green head. He had to know the question was coming, Grant thought. The little green Waa could read his mind. Most of the time, anyway. There were times when Grant blocked his thoughts from the Waa that surrounded him, but today hadn’t been such a day. Perhaps therein lay the problem?
Blink. Blink. Blink.
Great, the dreaded three blinks that let Grant know he’d guessed correctly.
The general sighed, took a deep breath, and concentrated on blocking his thoughts from the senior shipbuilder as he looked inside himself. He quickly noted what was giving the diminutive alien pause. His emotions were being ruled by fear and anger. For the Waa, that was a no-no, especially coming from the leader of their defense force. Grant understood and took a moment to reflect on his emotional struggle. He had found that by isolating what was bothering him, he could often dampen the negative feelings.
He started with the obvious.
Eli, his only son, had died on Cerbius. His death had been caused by an unknown enemy who’d established an illegal mining operation on a planet that belonged to the Alliance.
Second. Although Avery hadn’t come right out and said it, Grant knew she blamed him for their son’s death. Eli had followed in his father’s footsteps, after all. He’d joined the Shiale Defense Force and upon joining had been placed in the most combat-efficient unit the Alliance possessed: the Shiale Rangers. Grant understood why Avery blamed him, but he countered that understanding with the knowledge that Eli was his own man, and as such, had made his own choices. Grant could neither fault himself nor his son for those choices despite what his wife felt. Still, the accusations, hurt, and anger she’d hurled at him when he’d told her about Eli’s death had cut deeply and left him feeling hollow and empty.
Third. He was an hour away from a meeting with the Earth Leadership Council to discuss the events on Cerbius. That meeting would determine the type of actions the humans would allow him to take in response to the attack on their scout ship. Although humans had only one of the four votes in Shiale affairs, their voice was undeniably the loudest and most influential. It was also more often than not a voice of unreason and fear. The humans of this era were still ruled largely by the principles of Peace. Their desire for Peace wasn’t wrong—every race wanted peace. The problem was their inability to see that achieving peace sometimes meant making difficult decisions that could result in violence or war.
Fourth. He was convinced that a quick and immediate military response to the incursion on Cerbius was not only warranted, but it was imperative. The planet held deposits of agsel and was well within Alliance territory. Any unwillingness to protect the planet would signal weakness. Grant knew that signs of weakness were invitations to potential enemies. If they ceded Cerbius without a fight, who knew how many enemies would be lining up to take the next Alliance planet?
There were a number of other minor issues Grant was concerned with, but those were the big four—the ones that currently kept him up at night. Grant mentally went through t
he short list and divided them into two categories: ones he could do something about and ones he couldn’t. Eli’s death and Avery’s response to that tragedy were out of his control, so he pushed them from his mind and concentrated on the other two. He needed to find the right words to say to the Leadership Council but was confident he could sway them to see he was right, and that his plan was their only option for long-term peace and stability.
It took several minutes to work through his thoughts, but when he was finished, Grant was more focused on the task at hand. Most importantly, he wasn’t being ruled only by his emotions. With his mind clearer, he reopened his thoughts to Yuh.
He asked the question again, only this time it was framed in the proper nonemotional context which he knew the Waa would understand. He wasn’t asking about the ships because he wanted revenge or to appease his mate. He was asking because it was key to protecting the Shiale Alliance.
How long before we can launch the two new battle cruisers?
The Waa nodded. Testing has not been fully completed on the first ship, Waa Song. Testing has not yet begun on the second ship, Minith Fist. However, Waa Song can launch immediately, if required, and has a 99.6 percent chance of successful operation. Minith Fist, if launched now, has a 95.7 percent chance of successful operation.
Grant considered the information for a moment. He would need Alliance approval to launch either ship. First, though, he needed to convince his fellow humans of the need.
Prepare Waa Song for deployment within twenty-four hours. I’ll notify the appropriate defense units to begin boarding operations. Grant nodded at Yuh and opened his mind so his feelings of gratitude, acknowledgment, and praise flowed into the small Waa engineer. Without Yuh’s efforts working on the new ships over the past several years, the Alliance would be completely vulnerable. With the ships, they had a very good chance of success.
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