The Dracos environment suits were a marvel of his peoples technology, constructed of a lightweight, yet immensely strong carbon fibre weave, it was wearable and also extremely tough. In addition to the advanced construction of the suit, it could be configured with additional accessories for each individual mission, Drax had opted for a set of razor sharp blades jutting outward from his left lower arm, so that he could make slashing attacks by simply swinging it. On his right wrist he had concealed a weapon favoured by many of the Dracos. A devastating weapon, known only as ‘the silencer’, it consisted of a tiny steel monofilament line attached to a spool that shot the line out at several thousand revolutions per minute through a small barrel. At the end of this line was a viciously sharp weighted metal spike, barely larger than his thumb, within the spike nestled four tiny barbs that flicked open once it passed through its target. Then all he had to do was press a small switch to retract the line, thereby tearing the barbs straight through the victim, causing immense pain and in many cases death, hence its macabre moniker, it was one of Drax’s favourite weapons.
In-case things got a little ugly, which he doubted they would, he carried a typical Dracos eviscerator pistol as a sidearm.
His men mainly carried eviscerator rifles, some wore wrist blades, others had equipped silencers like his. For now, they kept their main weapons attached to their suits via magnetic strips on the weapon casing, allowing it to be stored on the body. Many had them attached vertically across their backs for easy retrieval.
Drax switched his helmet to infra-red night-vision mode, so he could see better in the dark, not that he needed to. Most Dracos had adapted to living in dark conditions over the last three centuries anyway, hence why their skin had become so pale and grey.
He cycled it again to thermal imaging mode, and did a quick sweep around the area, the flames of the shuttle lit up as brilliant whites and yellows on his display, however there was no sign of any form of body heat for a quarter of a mile in any direction, which was the limit of the onboard thermal imaging processor.
“Let the hunt begin,” he said into the comm. link.
Rachthausen and the other guards used the pryzors to help seal the top hatch shut, and also make it more difficult for whoever those aliens were to access the facility, he could feel the gentle thrumming of the base begin to increase, it was about to release another gigantic blast of energy, he hoped it would immolate those aliens on the surface as well.
“It won’t hold them for long; we need to get as far away from here as possible.”
“I agree, let’s all form up on the third floor,” Kathryn said to the group.
They all hurried inside the elevator, pressed the button for that floor, and the contraption shot them to the lowest point on the facility. The group jogged along to the briefing hall they passed earlier, dropped their supplies, and rested the badly injured Jankov.
Everyone was panting considerably; Kathryn turned the re-breathers back on within her suit. “Hey I’m getting clean air through, it’s no longer stale.”
“Some sort of automated environmental system must have kicked in when the facility was activated,” Kalschacht replied, gradually removing his helmet, “that’s better, it was getting rather stuffy inside.”
Everyone else followed suit, laying their helmets on the ground, Kathryn’s long dark hair flowed out over her shoulders, “okay, so now what do we do?”
Rachthausen turned to face her, “we hold out for as long as we can, Laveaux, how much food and water do we have?”
Private Laveaux, a slightly thin, lanky soldier came forward, “we have enough food to last four days. We might have enough water, and we managed to gather a couple of filtration kits from the shuttle also.”
“What about weapons?”
“We have the weapons we carry, and we also managed to gather a few pistols from the shuttle.”
“Okay,” Rachthausen said pausing in thought, then turned to his troops, “everyone give your sidearm to the scientists, they’ll need a weapon.”
The guards unclipped the holsters housing their pulse laser pistols and handed them over to the scientists, together with the weapons they had gathered. Each scientist was now armed.
“Here, take this, you’ll need it,” the sergeant said gently as he handed her his own sidearm, accidentally brushing her hand in the process, and smiling down at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
Kathryn took the weapon, and smiled back up at him tenderly, “thanks.” She felt something stir slightly within her, something she did not expect, Kathryn buried the thought as quickly as it emerged; it was inappropriate to be thinking of subordinates in that way.
“Gather around for a demonstration,” he said to the arrayed scientists, who began to make their way over to the big, burly sergeant.
He held a pistol out in front of them, pointing to a circular indent in the underside of the barrel, about an inch ahead of the trigger. “This is the laser pod attachment port. To place a new laser pod, insert the top of the pod inside the port and twist anti-clockwise. You’ll feel a click, that means it is housed properly. Each pod is good for thirty shots; we use the new high yield pods now instead of the older ones, which were only good for ten.”
The sergeant pointed to a set of two buttons on the side of the weapon, just above the trigger. “The first one, is the priming button, press this once when you click in a new laser pod, the other is the safety switch.”
He then proceeded to point to a series of four rather scorched looking holes either side of the outer wall of the weapon, just below the barrel. “Do no touch these at all, they are heat dispersion holes, used to vent off excess heat from the barrel after firing.”
The surrounding scientists all nodded their understanding.
“I’ve lost count of the number of cadets who have had their finger ends melted by playing with these holes.” He proceeded to show the assembled group the top and underside of the weapon, “this is a laser sight, it automatically comes on whenever the weapon is ready for firing,” he said pointing to a bulbous protrusion from just under the muzzle of the weapon, “and this is an accessory rail, normally used for attaching a flashlight, any questions?”
There were none, the sergeant had given a pretty thorough demonstration of how to use the gun. All the scientist had managed to clip in the laser pods with little difficulty, and pressed the priming button.
Thank God for small mercies at least, Rachthausen thought as he watched the assembled scientists all ready their weapons successfully.
“Okay, we don’t know how many of them there are out there, and we have no idea what they are capable of. So everyone needs to be extra careful, myself and the guards will try to draw most of their fire. If you do have to use your weapon, try to make your shots count, once these are used up we only have five spare laser pods for the pistols.”
Drax and his Kallan warriors approached the main hatch. As they looked upon it, they saw a small illuminated panel. They keyed in the control to enter the facility, and were greeted with a loud scraping of metal and some small jerking movements. The doors wanted to open, but something on the other side was blocking them.
Locked themselves in, Drax thought. A shame really, they are only delaying the inevitable. He took a few steps back from the hatch and pressed a tiny control, secretly embedded on a unit around his right wrist.
“Drax to the Flame of Celthris.”
“Kaeleth here, sir.”
“I want a full layout of this facility, search the ships main database, and then transmit it to my suits augmented reality uplink.”
“Understood, I’ll do the search now.”
The communication ended, Drax could feel the ground shaking from beneath him, it wasn’t violent, just a gentle rhythmic thrumming, although increasing in its intensity. The wind was blowing but not to this degree.
He eventually realised what it was, and screamed with all the urgency he could muster, “Everyone down, now!”
No sooner had the Kallan flattened to the ground, than the station released a second massive burst of energy through the atmosphere, the whole facility briefly turned a bright shade of orange, as the intensely bright stream of pure power, shot skywards and out into space once again.
“Recover!” Drax shouted out to his men.
The immense beam of energy shot passed the Flame of Celthris, briefly silhouetting the dark shape of the ship in its intense orange light, before hurtling onward into the depths of space once again.
After several minutes of searching for Dracos structures built on Auriga III, the ships computer finally found something that matched. A layout of a giant energy installation known simply as the eye of the Dracos, Kaeleth was fascinated. Although Dracos technology had evolved over the three hundred years the base was abandoned, nothing they built today even approached the scale of the eye.
He contacted Drax, “I have the plans, transmitting now.”
From inside Drax’s helmet a tiny lens displayed the layout of the station over his left eye, he studied it intently, and after a few seconds of silently searching, smiled. The facility did indeed have another way in after all.
“Follow me,” Drax called out to his men.
5. The nightmare begins
Rachthausen turned towards Kalschacht and Gomez, “when you saw the layout of the station, did you see any other means of access, an escape hatch, emergency exit or anything?”
“I’m not sure,” they both replied in unison.
Rachthausen pressed them, “think; this is important.”
“I don’t think so, not from what I remember.” Gomez replied, his brow furrowed in thought.
“Are you absolutely sure.”
Gomez nodded, his dreadlocks swaying gently.
“Okay,” Rachthausen turned to address his other guards.
“Wait!” Kalschacht called out, “there is another exit.”
Rachthausen froze, his worst fears confirmed, “shit.” was all he could say.
“There is a small emergency escape corridor; it’s on the far side of the facility.”
Drax and his men forced their way onward through the howling winds blowing across the surface, finally making it to the central focusing pylons of the facility, he loved the design of classic Dracos architecture, it looked so bold, so grand, like four giant claws reaching up from the ground ready to drag those unwary enough to get caught in its clutches deep down into the planets surface. Those grand old days were long lost to his people now, or so he had thought.
Once he has recaptured this base, it will re-energise his people, give them the boost they desperately need to once again become the scourge they were all those years ago. His people given the power of the old ones once again, the thought filled him with excitement and made him smile with anticipation.
He peered down the gigantic aperture, which the focusing pylons ringed, and switched to his thermal view once again. He could just make out the huge spinning collider at the bottom. It still showed up white-hot from the energy release earlier. No-one would know that the collider was buried a kilometre into the planets crust, built over one of the largest geothermal vents on the entire surface.
There were many other vents, but the others were nowhere near as big as this, in-fact it was all the vents and the geothermal activity that spewed out the methane and other gases, which created the clouds which swirl about this planet. Auriga III was a fascinating, yet deadly place for the unwary.
With a wave of his hand, he motioned for his men to continue towards the emergency evacuation hatch that had been transmitted to his A.R. uplink. It was tough going, even for the Kallan, the winds were making every step an effort and they could feel the biting cold through their carbon fibre environment suits. However, the thought of hunting down and hearing the screams of these interlopers, banished any negative thoughts from them. Once they got inside the fun could begin, and oh would they have such fun.
After about an hour of trudging through the windswept surface, they came upon a tiny hatch sunk into the ground, and half covered with wild bushes and shrubs.
Drax and a few of his men began clearing back the vegetation in earnest, eager to get to those inside. They found the hatch was only big enough for one man at a time to enter single file.
There was a small dirt encrusted panel next to the hatch, the other Kallan trained their eviscerator rifles on the hatch doors, ready in-case there was a guard stationed on the other side or some kind of booby trap.
Drax pressed a control on the panel. With a faint hiss of escaping air, the hatch slid open, gripping his pistol the Dracos commander cautiously ventured inside the escape tunnel.
It wasn’t lit, however that posed no problem, as he switched his helmet onto night-vision mode. Gradually the interior was revealed to him. It was a smooth cylindrical shaft descending into the base at an angle of about forty degrees, it was steep, yet at the floor of the shaft was a series of metal steps that ran down its length.
Drax cautiously made his way down the metallic flight of steps and descended into the gloom, one by one, his men followed.
Rachthausen and Kalschacht studied the three dimensional display in the control room again, this time in closer detail. They studied each corridor, panning around the entire facility, what they uncovered worried them immensely. They had found the escape hatch on the plan, and it led to a completely separate wing, or so they thought. As they continued to study the plan they realised that the ‘dead ends’ they had been coming to, were not dead ends at all.
They were enormous blast doors, designed to protect the base should the collider at its heart malfunction and explode. On the first and third floors, these were connected to giant semi-circular corridors that linked the other wing to this one.
Worst of all, they found that the control room they were standing in, was just an auxiliary. There was a far larger main one on the other wing, which also looked suspiciously like a military wing, consisting of military store houses, mess rooms, barracks, and engineering workshops.
Great, Rachthausen thought, not only have they found an alternative way into the base, they now have the resources of a fully operational military complex with which to attack us from, this is going from bad to worse.
They did have one stroke of luck however, there was a maintenance room, probably used to make quick repairs to this side of the facility. It was also on this floor; whatever it took, they had to seal those blast doors. He hoped he could find something inside with which to either brace the doors, or even better, weld them shut.
The sergeant made his way back towards the assembled scientists and other soldiers to tell them the news.
“Here’s what we are going to do,” Rachthausen said as he studied their grim, worried faces. “I want two groups of three to guard the blast doors at the end of each corridor. They are not dead ends as we thought, if the enemy break through, they can very quickly overwhelm us.”
Naturally his Sicarian guards were the first to volunteer, “Okay Johnson, Maxwell, Lindberg, you have the first floor. Anderson, Laveaux, Thorsson, you have this floor. Do whatever you need to do, but in no circumstances should they come through those blast doors, keep in contact at all times.”
The six men saluted, “yes, sergeant.” Before getting their kit together ready to take up position.
Rachthausen reinforced the motto of the sixty ninth, “fight hard, fight well!”
The men silently nodded, before heading out.
“Okay, Kalschacht, Gomez, Broadhurst, let’s see if we can find something to shore up those blast doors.”
The four men left the confines of the briefing hall and headed towards the maintenance store they had seen on the map. Fortunately for them it was only a short walk away.
The metal doors slid open and quickly allowed them access, to what could only be described as a giant rabbit warren of shelves, spare parts and strange tools, all of which were alien in nature.
They searched dishevele
d shelf upon disheveled shelf, rack upon rack, until at last Broadhurst shouted over from a corner of the room, “over here, I think I found something!”
He was holding a small handheld device, it bore a striking resemblance to an old earth plasma torch, there was a small yet sharp point at one end, and a trigger on the handle itself. They each inspected the device and found it had an intricate battery like power source in its handle, however the ‘battery’ had lost its charge over the centuries it had been abandoned.
“See if you can find another power supply for that thing,” Rachthausen said. The anticipation in his voice was palpable, they needed a bit of luck right now, and this just might be it.
Kalschacht was intrigued by a device affixed to one of the walls of the room. It possessed a small control panel, all in alien text. Its small lights blinked, lighting up the nearby shelving in an amber glow. He had a hunch that this was some sort of charging station for the tools, he searched around for another of those ‘batteries’ to test, eventually coming across one. Cautiously, he slotted the end of it into one of the narrow groove like bays, half closing his eyes as he did so. It clicked into position, suddenly the amber light changed into a solid green. Dieter Kalschacht breathed a sigh of relief, within the space of a couple of minutes it had changed back to flashing amber again.
“Here, try this.” He slotted the newly charged ‘battery’ into the handle and the alien tool came to life, a series of buttons lit up on the side of the small device.
Broadhurst walked over to an empty patch of wall in order to test it, and as he pressed the trigger, a bright beam of laser energy shot out from its tip and began to melt the metal, sending out a shower of sparks in the process.
Eye of the Dracos ec-3 Page 5