by Mars Dorian
Tavio readied his ion pistol but focused on the escape.
502 meters until the landing zone.
“Too many of them,” Bellrog said, now onto his next mag.
Worse, the doctor tripped over a massive root and bounced into the bushes. Tavio stopped, grabbed her right arm, and pulled her up to her feet. “You can do this.”
She nodded with sealed lips. Fear flickered in her maroon eyes. The doctor wanted a peaceful reckoning and got floating killer droids.
“Look out.”
In the wink of an eye, Tavio swung his ion pistol and targeted the flying predator. The implant in his head reduced the reaction time and urged him to pull the trigger.
Aim, fire, forget.
The ion pistol’s high-density beam became visible through the particles in the jungle and connected with the drone’s surface. The predator staggered in mid-air before its gear hit the soil with a metallic clunk. Tavio led Eriksun away while Bellrog distracted a drone with suppressive fire. “Two mags depleted, two more to go. These things can take a beating.”
“Man before machine.”
“Amen.”
Reunited, the trio hurried toward the digital way points glowing through their augmented vision.
Sixty-seven meters.
Tavio could swear he saw the meadow shining through the empty spaces between the curved trees. A new vessel approached the fleeing crew from above. It measured three times the size of the other alien droid and shared similarities with a flat, stealth bomber. Its slick, silver hull sliced through the tree tops.
“Boy, they’re scared.” Bellrog said as he keyed something into his arm display. “Remote-activating the turret’s anti-air defense. Sucker won’t stand a chance.”
“Neither will we,” Eriksun said with a defeated tone and pointed at the space between the tree crowns. The strange aircraft released a glowing object that blitzed toward their location.
“Bomb,” Bellrog said, nearly out of breath.
The flickering object impacted with the ground and sent a silent shockwave through the thicket. The magnitude launched Tavio and his crew like bot dummies. Space warped around them. The delayed sound came with a thunderous roar. Tavio coughed when the unstoppable force lifted him through the air like the invisible fist of an angry god.
Air became land.
His vision clouded and his ears rang from the concussion.
Tavio felt the force of a gigawatt ton pushing him into the soil. From the corner of his eye, he saw the dropship peek through the last line of alien trees like a holy finishing line. Tavio stretched out his left hand as if to grab the unreachable space.
Twenty-one meters was all it took to get to the shuttle.
35
Tavio’s consciousness faded out. He could hear the shouts of his team mates—Dr. Eriksun’s high-pitched voice and Bellrog’s scratchy speech—but the words eluded him. An invisible wall separated his mind from his surroundings, and only the numbness and pain prevailed. Tavio’s face shield hit the soil of the alien ground as the wise words of the Liquid Lancer echoed in his vanishing mind.
Choose not to be harmed—and you won’t feel harmed. Don’t feel harmed—and you haven’t been.
Strange objects sailed from the thicket and surrounded Tavio with their oval barrels extended. The cybernetic array of floaters threatened to finish him.
Can’t be happening.
Wasn’t supposed to be…
Tavio summoned his waning strength and grabbed his ion pistol resting near an exotic leaf. He managed to aim the gun with the assist option, but the alien objects blitzed.
Maybe Quintan was right. Reality played by different rules than the Lancer. Quotes didn’t solve problems. Will power did.
And in that moment, Tavio’s will power faded away.
36//Venus space station
Traveling aboard the Solar Express across the sol system seemed to take forever. Quintan moaned and stretched his tired limbs when his boarding shuttle left the ‘space train’ and neared the dedicated docking bay of the space outpost orbiting Venus. The double-ringed structure with its cylinder main base at the core defied the darkness of the void. Pundits called it the Venusian masterpiece and deemed it a milestone of Alliance engineering. Quintan agreed it looked better than anything the Martians could fabricate, and that warmed his heart. Earth engineering couldn’t keep up with the red planet anymore, so it was satisfying to see other colonies stepping up in the solar arm race.
Quintan checked the biofeedback of his body. Despite his upgrades and first regeneration session, he still experienced lethargy and minor aches when finishing a long, interstellar trip.
The next generation of humans would have to turn fully robotic or their precious race was never going to conquer exoplanets outside the solar system.
We will get there, eventually. We always do.
Quintan finished the last clearance check-point and found Brigadier General Del Rykan waiting for him at the main gate. Her medal-laden uniform shone like a jewel against the dull gray of her peers. At only sixty-one, the woman had barely reached her prime and oozed a youth strengthened by real life experience on the front lines. Here stood a maverick who had seen war outside the VR capsules. And now she flicked her edgy smile with a voice sharp enough to cut through composite steel. “Have you forgotten military etiquette?”
Quintan snapped out of his daydream and remembered the salute battered into his muscle memory. “Excuse me, Brigadier General. It’s been a long trip.”
“Earth has made you soft.”
“A decade of teaching softens every veteran.”
“Well, school’s over.”
She motioned him over. Quintan followed her like a rookie on his first day at the academy. The station’s interior design looked already much better than on Mars: the curved corridor design boasted with a metallic blue; a robot rail system graced the ceiling and transported cargo throughout the intersections. Quintan had seen similar designs at Neo-Japanese hospitals.
Minimalist. Elegant. Functional.
Rykan ushered him into another bodyscan clearance area before she stopped in front of a door with golden letters. Quintan stepped inside and whistled. The office looked like the modern command bridge of a fleet carrier. Slick, white walls with retractable kitchen, desks and closets. A cleaning bot whirled around polishing the imitation black marble floor. Behind the main desk towered a wall-screen featuring a breathtaking view of Venus.
“When you’re finished gawking, you can sit down.”
She gestured with her palm at the empty chair in front of her ivory desk. Apart from a Japanese maneki-neko statue and a golden chest, the surface was bare; it lacked the typical Alliance flag and family holograms high-ranking officers often used to grace their desk with.
Rykan leaned into her elevated office chair and crossed her slender fingers. One of her infamous power poses, Quintan thought. “How can I help you, Brigadier General?”
“The Moonshot crew has discovered the alien hideout and was attacked by a combined arms assault of floating tanks and predatory drones.”
Boom. The blank statement hit Quintan like a shockwave. He observed Rykan’s face and looked for signs of emotion. Dead seriousness poured from every pore. Quintan felt a cold shiver race up his spine, but he could suppress the emotion. “Did anyone survive?”
“We’ve lost contact with the ground crew. We’re still in touch with the Moonshot and the second-in-command Srini Naveesh—at least according to our last transmission.”
An emotional cocktail of worry and anger flooded Quintan’s body. He had hoped the encounter was going to be peaceful for Tavio’s sake. “Why isn’t the Martian division dealing with it? I thought they’d coordinate the Exo Protectorate’s first contact.”
Brigadier General Del Rykan shifted around her chair as if she was uncomfortable with the question. Her speech stayed as detached as ever. “There are those in the fleet command that aren’t too happy with Mars being the milita
ry strong point of the Alliance.”
It dawned on Quintan why he was ordered to Venus. He had always found it ridiculous to hand over partial Alliance command power to the colony that had once started a war against its very foundation. But mainstream opinions in the forces seemed to ignore that fact and speaking out was considered a political affront. Quintan cared more about his reputation than about sharing his political views, no matter how true.
Rykan played with the holo video in front of her. The solar system, the main colonies, and its space stations and ports showed up in glistening colors. “A section of the fleet forces has been transferred to Earth and Venus to decentralize command power.”
Her fingers highlighted the starport and orbital transfer stations orbiting the home planet and its farthest colony. Rykan smiled. “After all, having only one interstellar military star base makes the Alliance susceptible. One major assault, and the security of our colonies would be in peril.”
Quintan nodded. Keeping the ‘Free Republic of Mars’ at bay always sounded like a priority the Alliance had to pursue. He watched Rykan’s fingers zooming out of the hologram until one particular exoplanet outside the solar system showed up. “If the alien is capable of manufacturing holographic shields, autonomous turrets, and hovertanks, it’s likely the creatures possess space-faring military ships.”
All the problems of the Alliance seemed to vanish in a second. Quintan’s worst fears came true. Judging by Rykan’s power stance and narrowed eyes, she must have agreed. “We have to launch a preemptive strike before the aliens can prepare their forces.”
“What about Mars and Chief Director Jackstadt?”
“He is in charge of a separate division that’s, in part, privately owned and, therefore, not integral to fleet command. What he says is of no relevance.”
Rykan sounded poisonous when speaking of her former superior. Something must have happened in the last decade that had eroded the relationship. Quintan pushed the thought to the side. “What if the aliens possess superior technology?”
“I’m glad you asked.”
Rykan projected the miniature model of an elongated military craft that measured at least 300 meters. The vessel came with dozens of weapon ports, a next-gen fusion reactor, dedicated drone bays, and a double-barrel, heavy rail gun emplacement attached to the cruiser’s primary weapon ring.
Rykan’s neutral voice revealed hints of enthusiasm. “Let me proudly introduce you to the new artillery cruiser, Lieutenant Colonel. It’s the joint venture of three colonial corporations.” She paused with a faint smile. “None of which are from Mars.”
Quintan could hear his heart beat in exhilaration. The ship was a masterpiece of colonial technology, even better than the petty Moonshot scout frigate. “Terrific toy, ma’am, no doubt about it. But even the best ship is useless if the crew isn’t up to the task.”
Rykan’s smile stretched so wide it bordered her high-cheekbones. “That’s why I have ordered one of the best operating officers in the fleet to my office.”
37
Quintan acted surprised despite seeing the announcement coming a mile away. Rykan wouldn’t have ordered him across the sol system for a petty position he was overqualified for. “That’s an honor, ma’am.”
His eyes darted back to the projection of the artillery cruiser hovering over the table like the right hand of God. Granted, he would only act as a lieutenant colonel, but with the emergence of the alien threat, his chances of promotion surged. The prospect flooded Quintan’s face with joy, but he forced his neutral grimace to stay.
“High Command is preparing the dispatch as we speak,” Rykan said. “You will have to undergo extensive VR training and upload the schematics to your memory cell, but given your vast experiences from the war, that should happen at the speed of sound.”
She glanced over his body. “And your last profiling has shown an excellent zero G fitness.”
“I’ve been working out in astro-gyms for more than a decade now.”
“It shows.”
Fleet officers had to prepare mind and muscle in case duty called again. But Quintan had doubled the mandatory training periods. Not just to escape the daily hell of teaching, but also to be in the best possible shape. Deep inside, he knew the fleet was going to call him in again. His destiny belonged in the stars.
Rykan pulled up stat menus with the experimental cruiser’s core components. “This is a craft unlike any we have ever used before, and Command is eager to test its limits. The heavy rail gun, code named the Obliterator, will be our primary asset against the new threat.”
Quintan would devour the information and make the artillery cruiser his new object of obsession. He wanted to learn every component, weapon system, and cable running through that glorious cruiser. He would become the man who’d merge with the machine.
“Absolutely, ma’am. I’ll know the cruiser better than myself.”
She leaned back and smiled. “Someone like you is desperately needed in the Alliance.”
She poured some golden liquid into a glass and sipped at it. “If recruitment was entirely up to me, I’d smoke out those VR-junkies and replace them with veterans from the war.”
Basically Quintan’s opinion, channeled through a woman he began to cherish more and more. Rykan must have been a spiritual clone from another dimension.
“The peace periods have softened the Alliance’s approach to recruitment. Now every snowflake is allowed to serve.”
He cringed at the end. Was he talking too openly?
The Brigadier General eased his worries. “Let’s hope that future developments change that ill approach.”
The door of her office opened with a soft hiss. The cue told Quintan to leave her office and start his preparation. Halfway to the door, Rykan’s voice reverberated from behind. “I’m deeply sorry about your brother, but there’s still hope. As soon as a new message hits our satellite array, I will personally inform you.”
“Much appreciated, ma’am.”
“And check your server for the VR training message. You will start in about two standard hours.”
The sooner, the better. Quintan couldn’t wait to wipe the aliens’ asses with the state-of-the-art artillery cruiser.
38
When Tavio Alterra regained consciousness, he found himself and two of his crew members imprisoned inside an oval-shaped chamber with glistening white walls. He couldn’t recall how he ended up there, but his muscles remembered the alien’s aircraft releasing a bomb that sent a shockwave through the jungle. His last memory was of an array of cybernetic floaters surrounding him.
It should have been the end of him.
But instead of finishing his existence, the life form let him and his crew live on for unknown reasons.
Tavio still hadn’t seen a single representative of their species. Maybe they didn’t possess physical bodies. Or maybe their minds had merged with the machines. Too many questions raced through his brain, but the most important ones concerned his team.
The synthetic sergeant sat on a bench inside the chamber looking around and clearly felt uncomfortable without his firearms. The doctor on the other side danced along the chamber’s wall and investigated the surface pattern with her retinal scanner, her face awash with fascination.
The captain swallowed. “Are you two all right?”
Eriksun seemed stuck in another dimension. “What an incredible surface, sir. Similar to plasto-steel, the material appears to have both anti-dirt and water-resistant properties.”
Tavio had always appreciated her natural curiosity but found it misplaced in a situation like this one. “We’ve been taken hostage by hostile aliens, Doctor. Glossy walls are the least of my worries.”
“Amen,” Bellrog said from his position and seemed to clean an invisible rifle. “I brought five of their drone suckers down. Should have packed the Plasmyr rifle though.”
Tavio tried to contact both Chief Naveesh and Aidos in space, but the connection blacked out. The a
liens must have implemented a jamming device that prevented his comlink from sending and receiving signals. Smart, indeed, and way beyond Tavio’s comprehension. He still couldn’t understand their modus operandi. “Let’s summarize, crew. The aliens hide their walled city with a giant holograph. They command a hovertank armada equipped with directed-energy weapons that would make the Alliance Fleet weep in jealousy… but don’t they kill us. Thoughts?”
“They killed APE,” Bellrog said.
Tavio chose not to elaborate on the destroyed mech. “What part of the puzzle am I missing?”
Dr. Eriksun spoke up. “I don’t know, sir, but if they wanted us dead, they would have shot us on sight. Military-minds always shoot first and asked questions later.”
She freely directed her comment at Bellrog who didn’t seem to mind. But the doctor’s words rang with truth. A single beam from the alien’s batteries could have fried the trio in one shot, so why didn’t they? Tavio walked around until he saw a sparkle in the area.
“Be careful,” Eriksun said.
Bellrog sighed. “It’s some kind of force field, sir.”
Tavio neared the energy barrier and kept an arm’s length of distance away. Up close, he noticed tiny sparks riding the warped shield like an electric ocean. He gauged the distance and held out his gloved hand. His HUD warned him of the potential charge and blinked the exclamation mark. What incredible technology. They must be smart, maybe even smarter than us.
Which meant they could have a baseline of morals, no matter how different from humanity. His dwindling hope recharged again.
Dr. Eriksun’s calm voice sounded behind his back. “If they can generate a force field with such accuracy, their technology is capable of not only generating energy but also storing it in unimaginable ways.”
Tavio’s eyes were glued to the semi-transparent force field but his ears belonged to the doctor. “You mean super-capacity batteries?”