by Chris Fox
“Precisely,” Ship replied. The hologram zoomed in on the world. “Unfortunately, the shield emitters are no longer functional. As you can see, the surface of the world is a charred ruin. All life was extinguished, and the rock itself is molten.”
Hannan and Annie came striding onto the bridge, both dressed for combat. They said nothing, moving to lounge in a pair of chairs against the far wall. Nolan nodded at them, and they both nodded back.
“Atrea, you’re familiar with this tech,” Nolan said, turning to the wizened Primo. “Is there a chance Primo structures could survive the heat?”
“Most definitely,” Atrea said, nodding, “especially given that this empire appears more advanced than my own. They would have built the first structures before the generators, so the oldest are almost certainly impervious to the conditions of this world. They may even possess functional life support.”
“Atrea is correct,” Ship confirmed. “I can detect a number of structures below the surface. I will display the locations.”
The holo zoomed in even further, showing the planet’s southern continent. Several golden patches dotted the molten surface, the largest near the continent’s western tip.
“If there is a master core, I’d guess it’s housed in that complex,” Atrea said, pointing at the largest of the three.
“Ship, any idea how we can dock with that thing?” Nolan asked, painfully aware that there was no way for his crew to survive in that environment. No EVA suit would offer enough protection.
“Unfortunately, no,” Ship said. “There is a landing pad near the city center that I believe may lead to the central library. As Atrea has theorized, the structure is likely intact, and I’d expect you will find a master core within. However, as you’ve no doubt surmised, you would be incinerated attempting to reach the library.”
“Is there any chance we could use our shield belts to help?” Hannan asked. She sat with her forearms resting on her knees, and her rifle in easy reach on the chair next to her.
“Yes, but for an extremely limited duration. The power requirements of maintaining viable life support will drain the battery in minutes,” Ship said. After a pause it spoke again: “I’d estimate seven minutes.”
“Bring up a view of the library,” Nolan ordered. The hologram shifted to show a sloped, roughly pyramidal shape rising from the sea of magma. Each tier of the pyramid had a number of dark spots. Tunnel entrances, most likely. “Ship, if we can get inside, how do we reactivate the life support?”
“That should occur automatically, once the facility detects you,” Ship said. “However, if the system has been damaged, it may not turn on at all.”
“Okay, so we have three and a half minutes to get inside and get life support,” Nolan said. “If we can’t then we turn back and find another world.” He turned to Hannan. “Grab Delta, then have your squad get to the docking bay. All four of us are going.”
“What if something goes wrong?” Atrea asked, concern evident in those lantern eyes.
“Then you’ll talk us through it,” Nolan replied, wishing privately that Lena was here. The rest of the crew didn’t know why he’d sent her with Fizgig, but if he was right, that decision could save all their lives.
2
The Core
Nolan cinched his pack tighter around his shoulders and chest. It was compact, weighing only a few ounces, and could expand to hold something the size of a Primo core. One of his squad would end up carrying the core out, so he’d made sure each one of them had a pack. Just in case.
“Captain, we’ve reached the library,” Ship’s voice said. “You can disembark whenever you’re ready.”
“Ship, can you run a high-intensity scan for drive signatures?” Nolan asked, picking up his plasma rifle and joining the others near the curtain of translucent energy they’d have to pass through to reach the library.
Beyond, he could see the sloped golden surface of the Primo library. It glowed with heat, and he started sweating just thinking about it. The shield belts had better work—though, if they didn’t, it wasn’t like it would matter. He’d be dead before he had time to realize it.
“Scanning,” Ship replied. A moment later it spoke again: “Captain, I’m detecting a cluster of Void Wraith drive signatures approaching. They will be here in a matter of minutes.”
The members of the squad looked at each other, shock in their expressions. Nolan couldn’t blame them. To them, it was an unexpected complication. He hated keeping them in the dark, but it had to be done.
“Captain, are you certain about this?” Delta said. The man rarely spoke, and had never questioned Nolan’s orders. “We still have time to abort and get the hell out of here. We’re not going to be able to deal with several harvesters, and if we wait for them to get close there’s no chance of escape.”
“I know this looks bad, but I need you all to trust me,” Nolan said, letting his gaze roam between them. “The harvesters will not be an issue. For now, let’s focus on the mission.”
“Captain says it isn’t a problem,” Hannan said. “Let’s get moving, people.” She moved to stand next to Nolan, and Delta came next. Annie was the last to join them, her hand continually stroking the barrel of her plasma rifle.
“Can’t say as I like the situation,” she said, her eyes wide as she stared at the pyramid through the energy curtain. “But if you tell me you think we can pull this off…well, I’ll follow orders. This ain’t the most suicidal one I’ve been given.”
Nolan was proud of them, and allowed himself a grim smile. He turned toward the pyramid, then pushed the button on top of his belt. There was a brief high-pitched hum, then something tingled all over his skin. His breathing immediately became more difficult, like he was pulling in air through a straw.
He leapt through the energy curtain, landing lightly on the white-hot landing that led inside the pyramid. He could feel the heat through his boots.
“Seven minutes, people,” he barked, waving them toward the tunnel entrance. The heat was oppressive, seeping into his body despite the shield. Oven didn’t even begin to describe it.
Hannan was next through, and she hit the ground running. The others followed an instant later, and Nolan dropped into line behind Annie as the squad entered the tunnel. Passing into the shadowed mouth didn’t change the heat in the slightest; the shade provided no relief. Nolan forced himself to breathe slowly and evenly as they pushed deeper, finally stopping when they reached a pair of massive golden doors.
This was the first hurdle, one for which Atrea and Ship had prepared them. If the facility had power, that power would be triggered when they opened these doors. Unfortunately, opening them without power would normally be impossible.
“Edwards, do your stuff,” Hannan called, gesturing for the Alpha to approach. Edwards’s normally blue armor had turned a low, angry purple from the heat. His shields kept him functional, but that wouldn’t last.
Edwards took several long strides to the door on the right, then planted both hands firmly near the center. He leaned his shoulder into it, and the door swung silently open.
Nolan tightened his grip on his weapon, more than a little surprised that it had worked. Both because he hadn’t been sure the door was capable of opening after baking in this kind of heat for dozens of millennia, and because the idea of leaving a place like this unlocked for anyone to find was unthinkable. Humanity would have blown it up, or sealed it so only they could open it.
“Annie, take point,” Hannan said. “Edwards, you’ve got the rear.” She looked up at Nolan. “I hope you’re right about those harvesters, sir.”
Annie leapt into the tunnel, her plasma rifle sweeping back and forth in a tight arc. Delta glided after her, his weapon held in a guard position. Hannan went next, then Nolan followed. Edwards came clanking after, his reassuring bulk bringing Nolan comfort.
“Okay, this is the moment of truth,” Nolan said, mentally crossing his fingers.
As they walked up the darkened hallw
ay, the walls slowly began to glow. The illumination was faint at first, too faint even to see by; then it increased, giving them their first real look at the place. The hallway opened into a breathtaking vista, one that hadn’t been seen since mankind had huddled around fires in caves.
Below them lay an entire city. Dozens of pyramids and obelisks covered a deep valley floor. It was difficult to judge scope, but Nolan would guess the city was easily twelve or thirteen miles across.
“This place makes New York look a mining station,” Hannan said, leaning over the railing. “How the hell are we going to search this place in seven minutes?”
3
Don't Mess With Fizgig
Fizgig’s tail rose as she leaned forward in her chair. A low purr came from her chest as she studied the view screen. Six blue dots moved in a starburst pattern, passing toward the planet’s southern continent. They seemed unaware of the Tigris, which had been the plan, of course. Twenty-nine vessels lurked in the gaseous ring surrounding the planet, shielded from scans by the dense particulate matter.
“Warm up the drives,” Fizgig ordered. She rose from her pillowed chair, walking toward the view screen. Every step was agony, with her leg crying out. She ignored it, masking the pain and keeping her pace normal. It wouldn’t do to have her crew know she’d yet to heal from her battle with Mow. Such a weakness would undermine their confidence.
“Drive coming online, Mighty Fizgig,” Izzy said, her furry fingers flying across her console. She glanced up at Fizgig, eyes large. “Mighty Khar’s vessel is moving toward the enemy.”
“Fleetwide,” Fizgig ordered, a flash of annoyance skittering across her battle calm. She ignored it. Her people were passionate, and reining them in was difficult. Had she been any different at Khar’s age? “Prepare yourselves for battle, Pride Fizgig. Today we accomplish the impossible: we ambush those Void Wraith, and we capture their vessels. Break into your assigned squads and begin the assault.”
She gestured, and Izzy nodded when the connection had been terminated. Izzy studied Fizgig with wide eyes, her snowy fur making her look even younger than she was. Fizgig waited before giving her next order, hoping Izzy would assert herself.
“Mighty Fizgig, why aren’t you holding the fleet back to strike in unison?” Izzy asked. It was more tentative than Fizgig would have liked, but she had asked. That pleased Fizgig greatly. Khar was powerful, but Izzy was cunning. Leadership relied far more on the latter.
“These vessels represent the largest prize ever captured,” Fizgig said, striding back to her chair and sinking back into the cushions. She hated how much sitting down relieved her, but focused on the fact that it hurt less than it had yesterday. “They will go to the best captains, the most bold. Reigning them in now makes sense tactically, but it goes against our nature. Now take us into battle, Izzy. Target the furthest Void Wraith vessel, and aim for their bridge.”
Fizgig leaned back into the cushions, watching as Izzy bent to her console. The Claw of Tigrana rumbled reluctantly to life, accelerating from the particle cloud and into the planet’s orbit. Khar’s vessel was in the lead, and several others had emerged as well. They moved in tight clusters toward what appeared to be empty space. The Void Wraith were cloaked, of course, but that advantage no longer protected them—not with the Primo deciphering their tech.
“Fire the pulse bomb,” Fizgig said, purring again despite herself. The audacity of this attack harkened back to her youth. “And get Lena to the airlock. Tell her to ready the VI.”
“Yes, Mighty Fizgig,” boomed Calix, the large male who’d taken Khar’s place as gunner. He had a thick midnight coat, and bore a trio of scars across his face from a lesson someone had once administered. “Pulse bomb away.”
Fizgig watched as a small blue projectile shot from the dart bay. Its engines flared as it left the Claw, and it accelerated toward a point somewhere ahead of them. If the weapon worked as the Primo had promised, it would emit a massive EMP that would temporarily overload a harvester’s cloaking.
A blue-silver flash erupted in the distance, rippling outward in all directions. It exposed a trio of harvesters, which shimmered into view as they turned to face the Tigris.
“Mighty Khar is making for the lead vessel,” Izzy said, quite unnecessarily. Fizgig could see that on the view screen.
“Make for the rear vessel, maximum burn,” Fizgig said, digging her claws into a cushion. The Claw was old and tired, but she had much left to give—years yet to thwart her enemies, and claim more kills.
The Claw hurled ahead of the other Tigris, slowly overtaking Mighty Khar. Then his vessel dove like an eagle, claiming the first Void Wraith. A moment later the Claw sailed past, slamming into their own target.
“To the boarding tube,” Fizgig roared, shooting to her feet.
4
Boarding Party
Fizgig jumped from the boarding tube, landing in a crouch next to her vanguard. Izzy was at the head of that vanguard, the most senior among Fizgig’s crew. Izzy stared unblinkingly up the hallway, rifle half raised. The soldiers around her were less prepared, still adjusting gear. They only darted occasional looks up the hallway, a clear indication of their limited training.
“Izzy, take point. The rest of you follow her,” Fizgig said, pointing up the hallway. She turned to Lena. “We’re one level below the bridge. How long will it take you to install the new VI?”
Lena’s tail swished back and forth, and she gave Fizgig a sour look. “I don’t know. I’ve only done it once, and that was under fire. A minute, perhaps? I’ll do it as quickly as I can. I understand the gravity of the situation.”
“It is my place to plan the battle, holy one. To do that I need data,” Fizgig replied, moving slowly up the hallway behind the vanguard. She kept her plasma rifle at the ready, ignoring her aches as she rounded the first corner.
Lena followed, raising her plasma pistol and adopting a fair imitation of Fizgig’s combat stance. They prowled forward, until Izzy raised a clenched fist. The vanguard stopped at the base of the stairs leading onto the bridge level.
Then chaos erupted. Plasma fire shot down the stairs, catching the slowest Tigris in the cross fire. The rest of the vanguard made it to cover, and Izzy popped out long enough to return a trio of blasts. She ducked back, and a metal body tumbled down the stairs in a splatter of orange blood.
“Watch our rear,” Fizgig roared, grabbing Lena by the shoulder and pushing her toward the vanguard. Fizgig spun, dropping to one knee and bringing her rifle to bear.
Sure enough, the telltale shimmering of cloaked Judicators came around the corner. They’d been shadowing the Tigris, waiting for a moment to strike. Fizgig squeezed the trigger, walking her rifle back and forth as she filled the corridor with plasma fire. The Judicators seemed unprepared for the assault, perhaps expecting more conventional weaponry.
Fizgig downed two targets in quick succession, but more were coming. They returned fire, and she dove to the right as fist-sized balls of blue plasma streaked in her direction. She wasn’t as quick as she’d been in her prime, and one of the shots caught her in the injured leg. Her shield crackled, dispersing most of the energy. Most, but not all. The pain was excruciating, and it sent white rage coursing through her.
She rolled to her feet and dropped her rifle as she ignited plasma blades on each wrist and glided forward, dodging two more shots as she leapt. The Judicators were once again unprepared and she waded into their ranks, cutting them down as quickly as she could reach them. Thankfully, whatever programming made them detonate on death had been halted, likely because they were on the harvester. She and Nolan had observed the same when they’d taken the first harvester together.
Fizgig gave one final lunge, severing the head from the last Judicator. Its body collapsed near the others, its orange blood mingling with theirs. Fizgig’s ears twitched as she studied the corridor. It appeared empty. She hurried back around the corner toward the vanguard.
Shots came from the top of the stairwe
ll as the battle moved onto the bridge. Fizgig trotted up the corridor, pausing next to Lena. The scientist stood near the top of the stairs, peering over at the battle—if it could be called that. Izzy and the rest of the vanguard had destroyed all opposition, and the final Judicator was riddled with plasma fire as Fizgig crested the stairs and joined them.
“Well done,” she said, giving a toothy smile. “More will be upon us soon. Izzy, deploy the vanguard to protect all entrances onto the bridge. We need to give Lena time to install our VI.”
5
Time's Up
“Atrea,” Nolan said into his comm, his gaze fixed on the massive city below. “I’m broadcasting a live feed of the city. You can see what we’re dealing with. We don’t have time for a random search. If you can’t tell us exactly where you think the master core is, we’re going to have to scrub the mission.”
“I understand, Captain,” Atrea’s raspy voice returned, crackling over his earpiece. “Ship and I are reviewing your data now. Let me see, let me see. The architecture is similar to our own, and if that’s the case the library would be the most important structure. Perhaps that large pyramid along the north side?”
“I’d concur,” Ship’s voice added a moment later. “While I do not possess a map of this city, I do have images of other libraries. I’d estimate an 86% chance the master core will be found within that structure.”
“Great,” Nolan replied, leaning over the railing to peer at the city below. “What’s the fastest way down?”
“You should see a blue pad, perhaps two inches higher than the rest of the floor,” Ship supplied. “If you stand on that, it will transport you to the floor of the city below.”