by Chris Fox
“Any ships detected?” Nolan asked. He rose from the captain’s chair, eyes fixed on the view screen.
“The star’s coronal loop could be blocking our scans, but we haven’t detected anything yet, sir,” Juliard said. She didn’t even glance up from her terminal.
“There’s every likelihood at least one Tigris vessel is already here,” Lena said. She’d been standing silently on the other side of the captain’s chair, so quiet he’d forgotten she was even there. “This space is controlled by my pride, the Leonis. They’re aware of my research, and it’s possible they could be patrolling.”
“I thought you said this place was sparsely populated?” Nolan said, turning to Lena. The Tigris eyed him distastefully.
“I did say that, but you have to understand the circumstances. We’ve lost a science vessel, a grave affront to my people,” Lena countered. “It’s very possible they’re taking the threat more seriously now. Even if they aren’t, they’ll be looking for the Johnston.”
“No need to borrow trouble yet,” Nolan said. “We may see a Tigris vessel, but until we do we proceed. We need to get in and out of here as quickly as possible. Juliard, wake the captain and let him know we’ve arrived at Purito.”
“Yes, sir,” Juliard said. She spoke quietly to her console, then turned back to him. “The captain would like a word, Commander.”
Nolan walked to Juliard’s console, leaning over the screen. The captain was bleary-eyed, his hair mussed from sleep. He stifled a colossal yawn. “Nolan, I want you to take a team to the surface. Get to the ruins, and see what you can find. We need to know why these ruins are so important. Juliard, are you picking up any communications from the planet?”
“Yes, sir,” Juliard confirmed. “All normal chatter. There isn’t very much of it, but what I’m picking up is recent. Unless something happened in the last twenty minutes, everything is normal on the surface,”
“I’ll get to the shuttle,” Nolan said, starting to the hatch. “Lena, you’re with me.”
17
Away Party
Nolan peered through the doorway into the shuttle’s cockpit. Sergeant Hannan was in the co-pilot chair, with Mills guiding the shuttle towards the planet. Purito was similar to earth, but instead of a bluish tint its atmosphere was green. Eighty percent of its surface was covered in water, with small subcontinents dotting the surface. Its image grew larger and larger, dominating the entire view screen as the shuttle approached.
“Make for that continent,” Nolan said, pointing at one of the largest islands below the equator.
“We’ve got the coordinates, Commander,” Hannan said, giving him a quizzical look.
“Sorry, Hannan. I’ll stop micromanaging,” Nolan said, returning to the rear of the shuttle. Edwards sat on one side, cleaning the massive TM-601 he’d used in their last encounter.
Lena sat opposite him, face buried in a tablet. Her eyes scanned back and forth, and Nolan wondered what she was reading. Something about the ruins, no doubt.
“Commander Nolan,” a voice crackled over his comm. “This is Johnston actual.”
“Go ahead, sir,” Nolan said, activating the display. Dryker’s face peered back at him.
“We’ve got company. A Tigris warship just exited the Helios Gate,” the captain explained. “They’re clearing the sun’s corona, and they’re definitely making for the planet. Odds are good they’ll deploy a surface team, so be ready for some company.”
“Acknowledged,” Nolan replied. “We’ll get down there and get out before they arrive.”
“Godspeed, Commander,” Dryker replied, then the feed went dark.
Nolan rose and headed back to the cockpit. “Hannan, we’re going to have company when we get down there.”
“Thanks for the heads up,” Hannan said, nodding. She unbuckled herself from the co-pilot’s seat, and ducked past him into the hold. “Edwards, did you bring that special ordinance I requested?”
“Yes, sir,” Edwards said. The private shot a wide grin at Hannan. “If we make some new friends, we’ll be able to give them a warm welcome.”
“Excellent,” Hannan said, slapping the shoulder of Edwards’s armor.
“Everybody buckle up,” Mills called from the cockpit. “We’re hitting atmosphere.”
Nolan moved to the bench were Lena was sitting and buckled in next to her. “Do you really think you can figure out why the ruins are important?”
“Do you really think you can stop a Tigris war party while we get answers?” Lena shot back, her tail flicking behind her. “You do your part, and I’ll do mine.”
“Couldn’t you reason with them?” Nolan replied. “I thought scientists were revered.”
“Revered, not obeyed,” Lena said, giving a deep sigh. “If they realize I’m there, they will take me back to their ship and see that I’m turned over to the pride leaders. We’ll never get answers.”
The shuttle bucked, then bucked again. The turbulence increased, and Nolan found himself clutching at the safety straps attached to his seat. In theory, he shouldn’t have had anything to worry about, but he knew that this shuttle only had two inches of armor.
The cabin grew warmer, and he could see heat ripples shimmering around the edges of the view screen in the cockpit. Purito’s atmosphere was thicker than Earth’s, and that meant more turbulence on the way down.
The next several minutes were tense, but eventually they broke through the cloud cover. The view screen revealed a calm, green sky and, below the shuttle, a series of tiny islands.
“ETA three minutes,” Mills said, banking the shuttle. The view shifted, showing more of the water below as they lost altitude.
In the distance, Nolan saw the reason they’d come to the world: the Primo ruins. A little spur shot out from the main island, and the northern shore was dominated by the remains of what appeared to be an entire city. Ivory spires stabbed up into the sky, reminding Nolan uncomfortably of a skeletal hand.
As they flew closer he picked up more detail. The ruins were empty, as expected. They were also massive.
Searching this place was going to take forever.
18
Company
“Where am I setting this thing down?” Mills called from the cockpit. His tone was more than a little annoyed, but that was typical—and he’d been even more testy when told they were taking Lena along.
“Lena?” Nolan asked.
“I’m unsure,” she said, blinking. “It took us two days to locate the signal at Mar Kona.”
“So what do you suggest? We’ve got closer to two hours before company arrives,” Nolan replied. He knew people didn’t do their best work under pressure, but they didn’t have much choice in this instance.
“Allow me to observe the city, and I’ll see if I can locate what we’re seeking,” Lena said. She unbuckled herself, then moved for the cockpit. Her balance was enviable, and she seemed unfazed as Mills banked the shuttle.
Nolan resisted the urge to follow, instead letting the Tigris peer through the view screen. She’d proven capable so far, and if he let her be she might come through again.
“There,” she called, pointing at a large temple that was nearly covered in moss. “That structure appears to be a larger version of the temple on Mar Kona where we found the generator. It might not be connected, but that’s the best starting point I’ve got.”
“Sarge?” Mills asked, looking to Hannan. Nolan understood that Mills wouldn’t be insubordinate, but neither was he taking orders from a Tigris.
“Do as the lady asked, Corporal,” Hannan said.
Mills said nothing, and the shuttle began its final descent. Less than two minutes later, they were settling into a smooth landing on the wide stone street outside the temple. Stones cracked under the shuttle’s weight, and the ship tilted forward as it finally came to a halt.
“You’re slipping,” Hannan said, giving Mills a look.
“I can only work with what I’ve got. These stones are older than…
well, dirt,” Mills said, a bit defensively.
“Come on, people; we’ve got work to do,” Nolan said, unbuckling. He grabbed a tactical vest, then tossed one to Lena. “Let’s get out there and see what we can find.”
Nolan slapped the red button next to the ramp, and it began to extend. He trotted outside, almost immediately winded. The gravity was definitely stronger than Earth’s, though not enough to keep him from functioning.
“What’s next, Lena?” he asked.
“Mmm,” Lena said, walking down the ramp and peering around her. She licked her chops, spending a long minute studying their surroundings. “I believe the temple is the best place to explore. Do you have any sort of scanning device? Something that will pick up low-level signals? Specifically, ELF.”
“E-L-F?” Edwards asked, scratching at his bushy red beard.
“Extremely low-frequency waves,” Nolan supplied. “Yes, my comm device will do that. It’s got very limited range though. We’ll have to explore the inside of the structure.”
“Then that’s exactly what I’d suggest doing.” Lena had pulled on her tactical vest. She looked around at each of them. “Does someone have a weapon I can use?”
“Give her your sidearm, Edwards,” Hannan ordered.
Edwards unclipped a large pistol from his side and offered it grip first to Lena. “It’s got one hell of a kick, but I’m sure you can handle it. Sorry I don’t have a holster you can use.”
“This will suffice,” Lena said, studying the pistol’s action. “It’s lighter than Tigris weapons.”
“Heads up, Commander,” Hannan said, pointing at the sky above.
“Shit,” was all Nolan could muster. A fat bronze shuttle had just broken the cloud cover and was descending their way. “Lena, any idea what kind of complement that thing carries?”
“I’d guess a dozen Tigris warriors. There might be fewer, but I tend to doubt it,” Lena said. She shaded her eyes, staring hard at the shuttle. “Commander, do you see the sigil near the prow? These are our most elite warriors, the Claws of Tigrana.”
Nolan gave Hannan a worried look. The Claws had savaged countless human forces during the war.
Hannan shot back a confident smile. “Get your ass inside that temple, Commander. We’ll hold off the cats. They won’t be here for several minutes, and that gives us plenty of time to get into position.”
19
Tigris
Dryker sipped his coffee, waiting for the Tigris vessel to close. He already knew who it was, whom the Leonis Pride would have sent.
“Holy shit,” Emo murmured. The bridge was silent enough that it carried.
“Did you have something you wanted to say, Ensign Gaden?” Dryker asked.
“Uhh,” Emo replied. “That orange and black sigil on the prow. That’s the Claw of Tigrana, sir.”
“I’m well aware of that, Ensign,” Dryker confirmed. He rubbed his temple with his free hand. Some days he wished he could have just stayed in bed.
“Captain, we’re being hailed,” Juliard said. Dryker waited a moment before replying.
“Put it onscreen,” he ordered, suppressing a sigh.
The view changed from the approaching Tigris vessel to a shot of its bridge. Most of that view was taken up by a large bronze chair piled high with scarlet cushions. The Tigris sitting upon it was the most intimidating he’d ever seen. Her golden fur had faded in places, though the orange around her ears was still bright. One of her top fangs had been replaced with a silver implant—recently, if Dryker was any judge. She looked even more lethal these days, which was saying something given how lethal she’d looked the last time he’d seen her.
“Hello, Dryker,” the enemy commander said, a low growl rolling from her throat as she finished the last word. Her feline eyes narrowed. “I should have known it would be you.”
“Hello, Fizgig,” Dryker replied. He sat up straighter, and tried to hide his discomfort. Of all the ships the Tigris could have sent, the Claw of Tigrana was the worst. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to listen to an explanation? This isn’t what it looks like.”
“I’ll listen for—” She glanced off screen, then back at him. “Two more minutes. That’s the time it will take us to close with you. After that, I will board your vessel. Your crew will die screaming, and you will linger in agony for days. Whatever trick you used at Mar Kona won’t work here. We are no helpless science vessel, or incompetent privateer. We are Claws of Tigrana.”
“I know better than anyone who you are, Fizgig. We’re on the same side. You’ve lost two colonies, and are about to lose a third,” Dryker offered. Fizgig didn’t look impressed, but he continued anyway. “A new player is wiping them out, not us. You know humanity. Would it be possible for us to wipe out an entire Tigris colony without leaving a trace? Would we be able to take all the bodies?”
“No,” Fizgig said, pausing to consider. Then she growled again, low and threatening. “Your species is too weak; we both know that. But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re in Tigris space without authorization, or that you’ve destroyed at least one of our vessels. That’s an act of war, Captain, and I’m well within my rights to destroy you.”
“You are,” Dryker agreed, rising from his chair and approaching the view screen. “But before you attack I want you to think about this. There is a new player, one Fleet Command is pretending doesn’t exist. Why would my government ignore that kind of threat? You’re wasting your time on us. One of your own scientists led us here. Give her time to find what she needs.”
“You’ve kidnapped one of our scientists?” Fizgig roared. Her tail swished dangerously, and Dryker knew he’d made a mistake. “I will scatter your atoms across this sector. Prepare yourself, Dryker. This time you will not be spared. There are no Primo to shelter you. The Leonis will have justice.”
20
Dig In
Hannan keyed in the shuttle’s auto defense sequence, then leapt from the ramp as it began to close. She sprinted across the uneven flagstones, making her way up the steps toward the temple.
“Mills, are you in position?” she said, chest heaving from exertion. The heavier gravity was painful, but it would affect the Tigris just as much.
“Affirmative,” Mills whispered. She didn’t ask where he was, not even over an encrypted channel. There was too much chance the enemy would hear. “Their shuttle just touched down a half-click from here. Better get into position quickly.”
“Crap,” Hannan said, increasing her pace. She ran the last dozen feet into the temple’s wide entrance. The corridor disappeared into darkness ahead of her, in the same direction that the commander and his pet cat had gone. “Edwards?”
“Here,” Edwards called, standing up from where he’d been hiding. He was using a fallen column as cover. The thick stone was almost as tall as a person, and would stop most forms of ordinance. Perfect cover. “Sounds like hostiles are inbound?”
“That they are,” Hannan said, skidding to a halt behind a section of an inner wall that had caved in. The large stone blocks shielded her profile from anyone advancing up the hallway. She tried to calm her breathing, but the brief run had left her ragged. She hated high-gravity worlds. “You’ve got that special ordinance?”
“Yeah, though I’m a little worried about using it here,” Edwards said, glancing up at the ceiling. “This whole place could come down if we’re not careful.”
“We? If you’re not careful, you mean,” Hannan said, her breath slowing to a more manageable pace. “Don’t use it unless you have to—and, if you do, fire it straight up the middle of that hallway. It has to detonate outside the tunnel’s main supports.”
“Sure thing, Sarge,” Edwards said, patting his pack affectionately.
“Contact,” Mills whispered over the comm.
There was a sharp crack from outside, the report echoing across the empty city. That was good; it would make it difficult for the Tigris to spot Mills’s position.
“Target down. Nine mor
e inbound,” Mills whispered.
“Crap,” Hannan said, breath still a little ragged. “Be careful, Mills.”
There was no acknowledgment, but she hadn’t expected there to be. Mills would stay out of sight, and only take sure shots. He might get two or three more kills in, but that still meant an awful lot of inbound targets.
“One more thing,” Mills whispered over the comm. “They’re definitely wearing orange and black armor.”
“Shit,” Edwards breathed.
He met Hannan’s gaze, but she kept her expression neutral.
“Lena was right,” he said. “We don’t have a prayer.”
“Stow it, Private. I don’t care who’s coming; we still have a job to do,” Hannan said. “These ones aren’t going to go down like the dreck that boarded the Johnston. These ones will come in smart. That doesn’t mean we can’t take them down, though. We’ve got a clear line of fire, and the advantage of heavy cover.”
Edwards didn’t reply, but she could tell from his expression he was terrified. She couldn’t blame him. Very few Marines had met the Claws of Tigrana and lived to tell about it.
They lapsed into silence while they waited. Almost a full minute went by, then there was another crack. Hannan knew it must be from a different location, but that was impossible to verify with the wild echoes across the city.
“Target down,” Mills whispered. “Heads up, Sarge. Four cats inbound on the tunnel. Looks like the second squad is holding back.”
Hannan sank into cover, slowly raising the muzzle of her weapon. She scanned the tunnel entrance, ready to react as soon as she saw anything.
Two figures rushed up the stairs, both carrying wide, tritanium shields. She recognized the material immediately. It was the same thing the Tigris coated their ships in, and it was all but impervious to small arms fire. Those shields had to be monstrously heavy in the higher gravity—but if the Tigris felt the extra weight, they certainly didn’t show it.