“That is why we must set our trap carefully.”
“What kind of trap?”
“Something which will level the playing field.”
Telar liked to string out his revelations, which could, at times, be frustrating. Having no choice other than to go with it, Recker invited the disclosure. “We’ve been working on some new tech.”
“Not new tech, Carl! Tech which was already in our control! A weapon!”
Light dawned. “We built another Tri-Cannon?”
“Not the side guns, but we have another shield breaker.” Telar thumped his fist on the table and that alone was enough to betray how much of a triumph he felt this was. “A shield breaker we will conceal on a planet and which we will use against our enemies!”
Telar wasn’t usually demonstrative in his excitement and it started rubbing off on Recker. “I don’t see why the plan shouldn’t work, sir. It’ll be tough – especially against the Extractors – but if we strike hard, we’ll teach those Lavorix bastards that it isn’t only the Kilvar they have to fear.”
“You’ll be flying the Aeklu, Carl,” said Telar. “You’re the one I most trust to get a result.”
The confirmation of something Recker had expected nevertheless came as a surprise.
“Thank you, sir, it’s an honour.” Adrenaline pumped into his body and he bared his teeth. “I’ll give the enemy hell.”
“You’re damn right you will. I spoke to the Aeklu’s chief construction officer earlier today and ordered him to accelerate the installation of our control tech. Once the mission gets the all-clear, everything on the bridge will be familiar to you. I’ll issue you the command codes we extracted from the control core. Without those codes, the Aeklu’s backend systems will lock out our hardware after a few minutes.”
“Yes, sir, I know.” Recker’s pocket communicator buzzed and he looked at it surreptitiously. “The command codes arrived.”
“Good. Upload them to your suit computer.”
“I’ll do that, sir. Who have the Daklan chosen to command the Verumol?”
“Captain Razdin-Tiel,” said Telar. The stream became heavily pixelated, as if the FTL comm was on the verge of dropping out. After a second, it cleared up.
“I don’t recall the name,” said Recker.
“He was involved in the Daklan attack on Lustre. Damn, that seems like a lifetime ago,” said Telar without humour. “Captain Razdin-Tiel has had a long and fruitful career. Unfortunately, most of that career was spent destroying HPA spaceships.” Telar’s face showed he didn’t hold a grudge.
“I should meet him.”
“I’ll leave you to make the arrangements. Captain Razdin-Tiel will be with you for the mission. The command hierarchy is not yet agreed, though I expect we will settle on an equal partnership.”
“Whatever comes, I’ll deal with it.”
“I don’t doubt it for a moment, Carl.”
“I’ll have my choice of crew and soldiers for the Aeklu, sir.”
Telar gave a mock sigh. “A concession I will happily grant. However, the Aeklu will require a crew of eight, rather than five.”
“I’m sure you’ll pick the best officers to fill the gaps, sir.”
“I have already chosen, and your additional crew members, plus backups, are currently in transit from Earth. They should arrive within forty-eight hours, by which point the final equipment will be installed onto the Aeklu’s bridge and the tie-ins completed. You will begin full-scale preparations at that moment.”
“Yes, sir. How long do I have?” Recker pressed.
“There’s never enough time, Carl,” said Telar evasively. “You know that as well as I do.”
Again, the FTL comms link went shaky and Recker waited for it to stabilise. This time, it went dead, leaving him staring at a blank screen. The meeting had been winding down, but sometimes Telar stored up a juicy morsel for last-moment delivery. With a shrug, Recker stretched across to the desktop communicator and requested a new channel. An error appeared on the hardware and when he saw it, Recker was frozen, unable to believe what he was seeing.
Null response #0
It was the same code he’d seen time and again on both the Indarox interstellar and the Empiron-1 deep space construction station – a code he’d come to hate.
Not here. Not now.
Before he could raise the alarm, Recker was gripped by the agony of an Extractor attack.
Chapter Three
When Recker regained consciousness, his first thoughts weren’t of pain but of anger. The Lavorix had somehow managed to attack Ivisto with such speed that the early warning alarms hadn’t triggered. Those alarms were sounding now, in the corridor outside and no doubt across the entire base.
Snarling, Recker grabbed the edge of the table with both hands and hauled himself upright. His head thudded and his vision went out of focus. Unsteady fingers withdrew a Frenziol injector from his leg pocket and Recker stabbed himself with feeling. Drugs entered his veins and, when he dropped his suit helmet into place, the HUD warned him his heart rate was climbing.
Too much Frenziol.
Recker dragged his thoughts into a semblance of order. The Lavorix had come to Trinus-XN, which meant the outlook for the HPA and Daklan was likely dire.
He leaned across the table and checked the desktop communicator. It was still showing a null response, which meant the enemy had disabled it for the foreseeable. Recker tested the comms unit in his suit and it linked straight away to a man who knew a thing or two about fighting in the most terrible of circumstances.
“Sir, all hell’s breaking loose here,” said Sergeant Vance.
“Where are you Sergeant?”
Vance talked at his usual pace and in his usual tone. This was just another day at the office. “Barracks 12, sir. The platoon is with me. I can hear explosions outside but we’re still getting on our feet here.”
“I need intel, Sergeant. Tool up and await orders.”
“We’re staying put?”
“Yes – keep your heads down until I learn more about the situation.”
“This isn’t a wipe out attack, sir,” said Vance. “If it was, the Lavorix would have dropped incendiaries.”
Recker was starting to piece things together. “I think they came believing it would be a simple attack and kill mission, Sergeant. It must have come as a surprise for them to find the Aeklu and the Verumol in those construction trenches.”
“They’ve changed their mission,” said Vance.
“That’s what I think, Sergeant. They’ll attempt a recapture of their warships.”
“Barracks 12 is four thousand metres from the edge of the construction yard, sir. After that, it’s a long run to the Aeklu, and the Verumol is further still.”
“Like I said, hold steady. I need more information before I send you out of cover.”
“We’ll listen for the word, sir.”
Recker closed the channel. A dozen or more connection request lights were flashing on his comms unit. He located the one he was looking for and linked.
“Commander Aston, a shitstorm has come to Trinus-XN.”
“The enemy want their ships back, sir.”
“That’s the same conclusion I’ve reached. We’ll have to stop them.”
“It’s going to be tough.”
“I’ve had enough of these Lavorix assholes, Commander. The Aeklu and the Verumol are ours now and I’m damned if I’m giving them up.”
“We had a fleet in orbit and we saw those two desolators on the landing strip.”
“And the Vengeance, Commander. Eighty klicks away and out of reach.” Recker gritted his teeth. “I hate being blind,” he said. “We had enough firepower in the air to give the Lavorix something to think about. If we’re lucky, they’re holding the enemy at bay. Maybe they’ll even drive off whichever capital ship dropped out of lightspeed on top of us.”
At that moment, Recker felt and heard a booming explosion somewhere outside the comms hub. The allo
y walls shook with the magnitude of the blast and a second followed close behind. For a second, the lights went out before they came on again.
“Should I stop and check inside one of the comms rooms?” said Aston. “They have links to the orbital sensors from here.”
Recker wanted to say yes, but interfering with the comms teams wouldn’t help anyone. They had enough to deal with.
“Let the personnel do their work, Commander. We’ll pick up the details when we can.”
“Do you have a plan yet, sir?” said Aston.
“I’m working on it. Speak to Ken, Adam and Jo. Find out where they are and tell them to be ready.”
“The Lavorix haven’t laid waste to Ivisto yet – that means they’re considering their options.”
“I know – this is our opportunity to act. The Lavorix don’t piss about, so whatever they decide, it’ll happen soon.” Recker headed for the door. “I’ll meet you in the entrance lobby.”
He closed out of the channel and touched the door access panel, half-expecting the enemy to have locked down the base security as well. The door opened without hesitation and Recker exited the room. Out in the corridor, the alarm was louder and the sound had a sharp edge which made him glad he was wearing his helmet.
A few Daklan were visible, heading in different directions. They weren’t running – in fact, they didn’t look at all perturbed by events. There again, the aliens didn’t usually get emotional, even when the bullets were flying.
Recker walked instead of sprinting, only because he needed the time to think. A new comms request came in from the base commander – a Daklan officer called Daxtil-Tilok who had a rank which didn’t directly translate into an HPA equivalent. On the single occasion Recker had met Daxtil-Tilok, he’d been impressed by the Daklan’s aura of competence and he felt sure the base defence was in good hands. It would need to be.
Accepting the channel request, Recker informed the Daklan of his belief that the Lavorix planned to steal back the Laws of Ancidium. The base commander agreed and added his own take on the situation.
“Ivisto is home to two million personnel, Captain Recker. It is possible the enemy have arrived in sufficient numbers to sweep and eradicate, but I doubt they are here for an extended campaign.”
“They’ll focus their efforts on the shipyard and destroy everything else,” said Recker.
“I believe that is the most likely outcome.”
“I’ll leave you to your job, Daxtil-Tilok.”
The Daklan wasn’t finished. “You are in Comms Hub 3 on the construction yard outskirts,” he said. “You will do what needs to be done.”
“Yes.”
Without a further word, Daxtil-Tilok cut the channel, leaving Recker cursing the situation. He mentally pictured the base map. The command and control areas were central, and most of the personnel worked in the research and manufacturing areas south of that. While the construction yard was the largest area of Ivisto, much of the work there was automated. A couple of well-placed incendiaries would kill most of the personnel, leaving the Aeklu and Verumol untouched.
Recker had an idea and he requested a channel to Captain Razdin-Tiel, who was to be in command of the Verumol.
“Greetings, Captain Recker.” The Daklan had a voice like fingernails across a sheet of coarse sandpaper.
“I thought I’d introduce myself,” said Recker, stepping over one of the hub personnel who hadn’t yet regained consciousness from the Extractor attack and was slumped across his path.
“Greetings. We will not be undone by this,” said Razdin-Tiel.
“Not if I have any say. The enemy want their spaceships back. Since they didn’t set off the base alarms before firing the Extractor, they must be at long range. If they want to put troops on the ground, they’ll have to send in transports.”
“To do so they must neutralise both our fleet and our ground launchers,” said Razdin-Tiel. “Whatever happens, our casualties will be enormous.”
“If we lose the Aeklu and the Verumol, our war may as well be over,” said Recker.
“I agree. I have commandeered some trusted soldiers and will attempt to reach the Verumol – it has Daklan equipment already installed and I believe it will fly.”
“I see we think alike,” said Recker. “I’m planning to board the Aeklu – if we’re lucky we’ll both make it. If we’re even luckier, our warships will hang together during lift-off and their weapons systems will fire as intended.”
“We will make our own luck, Captain Recker. Anger burns within me and it requires an outlet. I wish to bite the heads off a thousand Lavorix and spit bile into their blood-jetting arteries.”
The Daklan talked a good fight and Recker had no doubt his skills and experience matched the talk.
“Have you got a comms link to the defence fleet, Captain Razdin-Tiel?”
“No – the main ground comms are disabled as you’ve already gathered. This is only a small problem for our warships, since they can link directly to our comms units, but so far I have heard nothing. I cannot offer anything useful from my position on the ground, so would not expect my brothers in arms to waste time speaking with me. Admiral Ivinstol commands fleet operations – I will not interfere.”
“Some intel might help us reach the Aeklu and Verumol.”
“Yes – I will request details when the moment is right.”
Recker had no idea when the moment might be right, though he understood Razdin-Tiel’s reluctance to stick his oar into the middle of an ongoing battle. Doubtless the comms crews on every warship were already inundated with countless requests for information, so it was vital that Admiral Ivinstol had a clear comms path to every operational warship.
Commander Aston was waiting with Lieutenants Burner and Larson at the entrance lobby, and they were all armed with gauss rifles. The hub was primarily operated by Daklan, and Recker’s crew looked small amongst the huge aliens who strode across the floor.
“None of them are leaving,” said Aston, indicating the hub personnel. “And no sign of panic.”
“Have you spoken to anyone in the know?”
“There’s nobody in the know, sir - the cause of the failure is still undetermined.”
In the past, the Lavorix had used a combination of physical devices and their ranged core override to control HPA and Daklan hardware. It was highly unlikely that enemy soldiers had infiltrated all four of the comms hubs without the alarm being raised, which meant they’d fired a core override. Recker knew from experience what a pain in the ass the weapon could be – a pain the ass that was only recently beaten into second place by the Extractors.
The moment he thought the word Extractor, he was hit by the weapon again. Recker’s lips drew back involuntarily and his legs felt weak. Nearby, Aston’s closed her eyes tightly and her expression was one of absolute concentration. Meanwhile, Burner swore and the usually clean-mouthed Larson uttered a few oaths that would have turned a veteran trooper’s ears red.
“Hell no,” Aston said, struggling against the weapon’s effects.
Recker fought back too, with the assistance of the Frenziol-13 he’d recently injected. The pain of the Extractor was no better and no worse than it always was, and a far corner of his mind recognized this as a positive. It was better to suffer transient agony and live than to drop dead and have the energy from his cells channelled into a battery somewhere on a Lavorix capital ship.
The Daklan weren’t quite so resistant to the effects. Several keeled over, while others lowered themselves to the ground, panting and with their eyes aimed at the floor. Not one called for assistance and Recker was impressed by their stoicism.
When the worst of it passed, he checked around in case any of the nearby personnel required immediate medical intervention - not that he was knowledgeable enough to offer anything beyond a Frenziol-13 injection.
“Do I get a prize if I guess what the plan is, sir?” said Aston. Her face was screwed up from the aftereffects, but she had a firm grip on h
er rifle.
“There’s a plan?” asked Burner, his unruly mop of curly hair sticking to the cold sweat on his forehead.
“I thought you’d have guessed it by now, Commander,” said Recker, ignoring Burner’s question.
“We’re going to board the Vengeance and then shoot down a few Lavorix warships,” said Aston confidently.
“Not this time – we’ll be flying something bigger.”
Aston’s eyes widened. “The Aeklu isn’t meant to fly, let alone engage the enemy.”
“The Lavorix are here for that ship, Commander. What better way to stop them than by flying it out of the construction trench ourselves?”
“It’s an eight-klick run from the main portside entrance to the bridge,” she said.
“Didn’t you hear? They got the original topside airlifts working again. That cuts the running to an easy five hundred metres.”
“Whatever you say, sir. The Aeklu it is.”
A third explosion came, this one louder and nearer than the earlier two combined. The walls and floors shook harder than before and Recker turned his eyes to the ceiling, half-expecting it to come down on top of him.
“Plasma missile on the comms hub,” he said. “Damnit!”
“We should get out of here,” said Larson.
Recker had a feeling the world outside wasn’t going to be a much friendlier place. Still, if he was going to die, it might as well happen while he was trying to accomplish something instead of laying low in the alloy ruins.
Weakness from the Extractor lingered and seemed to coexist with the Frenziol’s promises of invulnerability. Commanding his muscles into action, Recker ran for the airlock.
Chapter Four
Outside, Trinus-XN’s transition from day to night was well underway. In the short period Recker had been in the comms hub, night’s darkness had come knocking. The day wasn’t completely over, but it was in the dying throes and the shadows were long.
Here, beyond the muffling walls of the comms hub, the dense, percussive booms of explosions came in beating waves from every direction and flashes of white lit up the skies. Far fewer personnel were in the plaza now, and those who were visible stumbled for the illusory cover of nearby buildings. It was telling that none headed for the comms hub – it didn’t require a tactical genius to understand the structure was a primary target for the enemy.
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