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Frontline Page 5

by Z H Brown


  “No, no; I don’t mean in a metaphysical-destiny-type sense, I mean why are we here? This sector is the most danger-free area in the Empire; for almost two years we’ve done nothing but get battered by sun and sand and watch the same tiny town day after day,” he spat into the sand in irritation. “All I want is for something to happen to give us something to do so we aren’t doing the same things constantly,” continued Slog, making absolutely sure that his pal knew he was bored.

  More chattering from the mechanic.

  “First of all, a sandstorm is hardly exciting. At most, it’d get us off watch duty. Second, helping Troia dig out her bar from a mountain of sand is not the change of pace I’m looking for. All I know is, if something doesn’t happen soon, I’m gonna--”

  Slog was cut off by a sonic BOOM overhead. A ship had entered the atmosphere, and fast.

  The craft was a burning hot mass, streaking toward the ground and leaving smoke streaming behind it. The ship passed over the soldiers’ location, continuing its downward trajectory until they saw it come to a thunderous stop several dunes over.

  Slog’s stunned stupor came to an end when his headset filled with Critter’s chattering. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Get yourself packed, and we’ll head over.”

  He slid into the driver’s seat, and waited till Critter finished buttoning up the hood before activating the craft. While Critter packed his drone, Slog pinged the sergeant.

  “I hope this means you know what made that ludicrously loud sound, Slog?” asked Sergeant Ansaria over his craft’s speakers.

  “Yes ma’am, I do. We’ve got a downed ship, came roaring out of the sky and crashed not too far from us. Couldn’t make out a design, but from the size, I’d say there’s probably no more than two or three on board. Me and Critter are heading right over.”

  “Copy that, Slog. We’ll pile in the other jeep and meet you there. Contact me if there are any survivors so we can arrange med support.”

  “Ma’am, yes ma’am. Slog out.”

  Seeing that Critter was safely aboard, Slog turned the craft and headed for the crash. They zoomed swiftly over the dunes, the smoldering wreck coming closer and closer. As they reached it, the heat it had been subjected to as it entered the atmosphere could be felt even over the baking desert sun.

  The ship had broken in two, its front half embedded in a sand dune, the back half bent at a forty-five-degree angle and only still connected by a few intact pieces of metal and wires. They raised the ATHV up towards the broken portion of the ship, and Slog stuck his head in. Towards the front of the ship he spotted a bipedal form.

  “Hello!” he called. “Any survivors?”

  The question hung unanswered in the air. Slog turned toward Critter.

  “There’s someone in there, buddy. I’m gonna need you to keep her steady while I go inside and pull him out.”

  Critter acknowledged the plan and redeployed his drone. The machine awkwardly moved to the driver’s seat, while Slog slid into the passenger’s. Once the craft was steady, Slog lowered himself inside. The interior of the ship was a wreck; sand had poured in, the desert already attempting to bury the vehicle. Slog cautiously moved towards the unmoving form. Bending low, he grabbed the figure by the shoulder- and was suddenly grabbed on the arm by the apparently still alive individual.

  “Arrrghah!”

  “Whoa! Easy there, fella!” Slog tried to pry the survivor’s grip off of him. “Your ship’s wrecked, and you’re not looking much better. You need to lie still, while I call my CO.”

  This remark prompted the individual to grab Slog’s arm even harder. He pulled Slog toward him and seemed to be composing his next thought.

  “Imperial….military?” he asked, the words haggard and choked.

  “Yes, Private First Class Slog--”

  The man pulled Slog even closer.

  “Data drive…in…pocket. Must…get…Emperor. Can’t trust…any…goes to top.” The words were slurring out of his mouth, each one quieter than the last.

  “Must get…must save…empire.”

  With his last words, the man finally succumbed to his injuries, his hand losing its grip on Slog’s arm and falling limp.

  Slog sat unmoving for a few moments, unsure what to do. The man’s dying words echoed through his head. He checked the body and found the drive that he was so desperate to deliver in his chest pocket. He placed it securely in his belt, then reached over and removed the man’s A-TIG from his arm. It was smashed, a small piece of jagged plastic still embedded in it. Hopefully, Tread would be able to work his magic and get something from this piece of junk.

  Slog contacted Critter.

  “All right, I’m coming out. Make sure you keep it lev--”

  Slog was interrupted by the sound of shifting and falling metal in the nearly disconnected half of the ship. Vibrations caused the wreck to shake and Slog was nearly knocked off his feet.

  I’ve gotta get out of here before this thing falls apart!

  Slog peered up and saw the passenger side of the hover-vehicle. Heaving himself up, Slog grabbed the bottom of the craft’s door and pulled himself inside.

  “Set her down nearby, Critter. Sarge is gonna want to hear about this.”

  Slog and Critter had only a short wait before the whine of a second ATHV announced the arrival of the rest of the squad. Slog waved them down as the craft came to a stop. The three climbed out and approached their squad mates, Slog giving a small salute.

  “Status report, Slog,” said Ansaria immediately.

  “I only found one occupant, ma’am. He was alive when I got to him, but not for long. He was mumbling about something…something about ‘saving the empire,’” said Slog, his face displaying his disconcertion.

  “That’s it? He just said the Empire needs saving?” Slog fished in his belt and extracted the drive.

  “He had this on him. Also got his TIG. Figured Tread could take a look and get us some better intel.”

  The android was already peering at the pair of devices.

  “If I may?” offered Tread, holding out his hand for the drive. Slog handed it over, and after a cursory glance, Tread inserted it into the back of his head. He was silent for a few moments, before extracting the drive and giving it to the sergeant.

  “I am afraid the drive is encrypted, sergeant. I am reasonably sure that I can crack it, but it will need to be done back at base.”

  Ansaria nodded her head and then began fiddling with her A-TIG. “All right, I’ll call the outpost and let them know what we found. With any luck, we’ll have this sorted before--”

  A sudden creaking of the crashed ship drew their attention, this time much louder and accompanied by a new sound: the shriek of rending metal. The side of the ship facing them exploded outward and a heavy, colorful figure dropped into the sand. It was clad in the stretched remnants of a green and yellow outfit, though how it could have ever properly fit the heavily armored form was anyone’s guess.

  The machine slowly lifted its head, its gaze rapidly taking in the assembled soldiers that stood waiting several meters from it. An instant later, its optical sensors zeroed in on the drive Ansaria held. The machine raised its arm, its forefinger glowing with energy.

  Ansaria reacted instantly. “COMBAT POSITIONS! GO, GO!”

  The blast lanced through the squad, the beam narrowly missing them as they dived out of the way. Alvara, who had been riding in the back of the hovercraft, took to manning the mounted turret. She swiftly brought the weapon around to bear, unleashing countless bolts of energy on the mysterious metallic opponent.

  Reno raised its arms in front of itself as a shield. The bolts struck, but were unable to penetrate the machine’s armor. It dashed forward and struck the vehicle, knocking the gunner off balance and forcing her to halt her firing. Before it could fry the interfering organic, Ansaria raised her hand and with an invisible force the machine was lifted up and hurled away from the wreck into the sunbaked desert.

  “Don’t even
think about it, you bastich! Slog, Tread: let him have it!” Ansaria shouted. The two troops took aim. Slog charged his plasma shotgun, while Tread calculated the trajectory of his handheld rockets. At the same time, the two fired, and the spot where their opponent had been erupted in a series of explosions.

  Before the sand even had time to settle, multiple thin, lethal beams came from within the dust, only barely missing their targets and forcing Slog and Tread to roll for cover. Reno stood in the explosion’s crater, dented and singed, but still in the fight. Before it could move forward, Reno found itself once more being pelted by the rapid fire of the other ATHV present, though this time the turret was manned by Critter’s drone.

  The blasts suddenly let up, though, as Ansaria rushed in, the sword that she favored for close combat drawn and surging with electricity. She sliced at her opponent, cutting off one of Reno’s arms and creating a wide furrow across his torso. Reno sent Ansaria flying with a swipe from its remaining arm, and raised its hand to blast the interfering officer.

  Before it could fire, the android’s arm exploded at the elbow. Behind it, Alvara took aim with her sniper rifle again, this time hitting the machine square in the back. The disarmed machine at first seemed to be confused as to what had happened. After inspecting its arms, the droid turned back toward Ansaria, who had un-slung her beam rifle.

  “Shrug this off, you android banlock!” said Ansaria as she squeezed the trigger of her weapon.

  Countless beams struck Reno dead-center in the head. The machine’s face exploded in a shower of flames and metal and the force of the shots knocked him onto his back. There it lied: a smoking, headless heap.

  Ansaria dropped her rifle, and just lay in the sand for a few moments. Before any of her squad could come to her aid, she slowly sat up.

  “Si…sit rep!” she called.

  “Looks like we’re all in one piece, Sarge,” replied Alvara. “One of our crates is crumpled, but we should be able to get back to base.”

  Ansaria had managed to get to her feet. Her chest hurt where the android had struck her, but nothing felt broken. She started collecting her weapons.

  “Good; M, contact the outpost, let them know about the crash and the victim. Slog, Tread, pick up that thing and get it loaded. I want Tread to look this bot over after he’s decrypted the drive.”

  The two soldiers snapped off salutes before they started gathering up the pieces of their deactivated opponent. Ansaria pulled the drive out of the pouch on her belt where she had slipped it when everything had started exploding. The small device was intact.

  Just what exactly have we gotten wrapped up in?

  Chapter V

  Off the Grid

  Imperial Military service is divided between two primary forces: Sword Fleet and Shield Fleet. Members of Sword Fleet fight on the frontlines, battling the oppressive Golden Empire of Infinite Starlite, or fighting side-by-side with the Emperor as he brings new worlds into the fold. Shield Fleet members serve as garrisons on worlds removed from the fighting, where they defend against pirates, seditionists, radicals and other criminals - though for most reserve forces, there is little chance of actual combat.

  --Excerpt from The Newcomer’s Guide to the Empire

  The squad returned to base without incident, though the tortured whine of the damaged vehicle’s hover unit threatened to drive them all insane with its ear-piercing shriek.

  When they arrived, they immediately began working. Slog and Tread transported the remains of the machine to a corner of the garage for Tread to examine later. Once the pieces were completely unloaded, Tread bolted off to begin decrypting the drive, the droid eager to unlock its mysterious contents. Alvara was on crowd control, still coordinating with the Oasis Colonial Civil Services concerning the wreck, while Critter was giving the damaged ATHV a cursory inspection.

  Ansaria was feeling the pain in her ribs from the attacker’s swipe, and she decided that a visit to the med wing wasn’t out of the question.

  “Critter, could you boot up your drone and meet me in medical? I might need your help.”

  She received an affirmative and made her way to the small medical wing. Ansaria sat on the single table, removed her chest piece, and gingerly lifted up her shirt. A black and purple bruise the size of her hand was covering her right side; she touched the discoloration and winced.

  The clanking sound of Critter’s bot’s footsteps announced the arrival of her assistant nurse. Chattering filled her comm.

  “You bet it feels as bad as it looks. I just need to make sure nothing’s broken and bandage it. Grab the scanner.”

  The droid grabbed the handheld medical scanner and gave Ansaria’s wound a quick once-over. The device beeped and Critter informed her of the results.

  “Just bruised,” sighed Ansaria in relief. After today, the last thing she needed was some busted ribs to complicate things. “Grab some wrappings and do what you can, Critter.”

  The tiny teammate’s superb control over his drone made the procedure relatively painless, but did little to ease the throbbing ache of Ansaria’s bruise. She lowered her shirt and stood up, still tender, but relived knowing she hadn’t come away with worse.

  “Thanks, Critter. I’m gonna see how Tread’s doing while you get started on the crate; I do not want to have to take that thing out again until that whine is gone.”

  Critter’s bot snapped a salute, turned and marched out of the room. Ansaria smiled at the overly dramatic exit then made her way for Tread’s quarters.

  Tread was seated firmly before his workstation, his weapon hand replaced with a normal, five-digit one, his fingers flying over keys as information scrolled across the screen, tiny and indecipherable to Ansaria.

  “Report, private.”

  Tread did not turn to acknowledge his sergeant, his attention focused on the screen before him, but he did answer her.

  “I am certain that if I was able to do this wirelessly, we would have answers by now. Unfortunately, as I am stuck using primitive interface means, it will take me a while to decode the information.”

  Ansaria resisted the urge to remind Tread once again whose fault it was he was stuck using such ‘primitive’ methods.

  “So you have no news for me?”

  “Not quite. The drive is an Imperial Voidbox: very top-of-the-line, used by higher-ups in the Empire to keep secrets secret.”

  “So this guy had access to an advanced piece of tech, a small shuttle, and was in some way connected to that hulking engine of destruction.”

  “An excellent summary of the situation, sergeant.”

  “Give me an estimate on when that thing will be unlocked.”

  “Assuming I don’t encounter anything particularly surprising, forty minutes.”

  “Make it thirty. I’m going to check on the others. Call me the instant you’re done.”

  “Roger, roger.”

  Ansaria left the room and moved down the hall to the common area where Alvara was talking quickly into her comm. unit. The conversation ended as soon as the sergeant entered the room.

  “Give me the news, M.”

  “I’ve informed OCS about the crash and the victim. I told them he was an Imperial representative, higher-up- explains the personal craft; also told them he had a malfunctioning bodyguard android that attacked us, which we subsequently scrapped and confiscated.”

  Ansaria was pensive for a moment.

  “For all we know, that is his bodyguard.”

  “Well, hopefully Tread’s examination will tell us more. I also instructed the locals to forward all information they recovered from the ship’s computer.”

  “Good call, M. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine, Sarge. Didn’t get a scrape on me in the fight. That’s really something I should be asking you.”

  As if in answer, Ansaria’s side gave a painful twinge and she grimaced. “That bad, huh?”

  “We both know I’ve had worse, but I probably won’t be challenging you to a sit-u
p competition anytime soon.”

  “With all due respect Sarge, you couldn’t keep up on your best day.”

  “Keep it up, private, and I’ll have you on latrine duty for a month,” Ansaria replied, only partially joking.

  She walked back down the hall to the garage. The loud whine of power tools greeted her as Critter worked to restore the jeep. She continued on to the remains of the android where Slog was inspecting one of the arms.

  “Learn anything??” she had to shout to be heard over Critter’s tools.

  “Yeah, this stuff is way heavier than it was when we unloaded it,” replied Slog. “What do you mean?”

  “This arm, it’s at least half again as heavy as it was when we loaded it up. Same with the torso: before I could lift it without too much trouble; now, I can hardly get it to budge. It’s like the thing grew extra armor while we weren’t looking.”

  Would the weirdness of today never end?

  “So now, on top of everything else, we’ve got a combat bot that can apply extra armor…after it’s been slagged. Slog, do you ever get the feeling that someone is trying to tell you something, and it just goes right over your head?”

  “Too often for comfort, Sarge.”

  “Well, keep inspecting it, and let me know if you find anything else. Preferably, something that makes sense. In the meantime, I think I’ve earned some R&R.”

  “You got it, Sarge.”

  Ansaria made her way back to her modestly accommodated quarters and was out almost as soon as she hit the cot.

  In what seemed like no time at all, Ansaria was awakened by the steady beeping of her A-TIG. Ignoring the ache that had spread across her whole body, Ansaria blindly reached for the annoying-sounding device and activated it.

  “Sergeant, I’ve finished decrypting the drive.”

 

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