The Complete Void Wraith Saga

by Chris Fox

The panel finally slid up with a hiss, showing the rusty ground underneath. Annie took a deep breath, then clicked the release on her harness. She tumbled to the ground, landing painfully, and put a hand on her lower back as she crawled from under the remains of her mech. “Ugh, I’m gettin’ way too old for this combat crap. I need to go back to asteroid mining.”

  The little whale thing rattled off some more hoots and whistles, tugging on Annie’s uniform.

  “Well, you’re an excitable little thing. I guess you might be leadin’ me into an ambush, but it looks like I’m all alone out here. Guess I’m going to trust you.” Annie reached back into the mech, removing her shotgun from the gear locker. “That don’t mean I’m stupid, though. You try anything, and I’ll shoot you right between them big doe eyes.”

  The whale-thing nodded happily, waving Annie toward an alleyway.

  Annie gave the wreckage a reluctant look. She could salvage so much—probably even fix her mech, given some time and a wall to lean it against. “Enemy ain’t gonna give me time, though. They’ll be here like buzzards, picking over the bones.”

  The whale thing nodded happily again, waddling up the alleyway. Annie rested her shotgun on her shoulder, keeping about ten feet back in case the thing whirled on her. They ducked through a rusted-out freighter frame that was being used to brace a collapsed building.

  On the other side lay the most interesting domicile Annie had ever laid eyes on. Rusting starship parts were spaced about ten feet apart like fence posts, with some sort of cloth wrapped between them. It was blue-green, fluttering in the wind like a living thing. “Oh, I get it—water. That’s s’posed to be the ocean, ain’t it?”

  “Mmm, yes. Ocean,” the creature answered, its voice higher-pitched than a human’s. “Why can I now understand your speech?”

  “Oh, that’s right. We got a interspecies virus in our part of the galaxy,” Annie explained. “It attaches to the brain, and lets you understand other people who’ve got the same virus. Guess I gave it to you.” She shrugged uncomfortably. “Sorry.”

  “No, no, this is good. I was worried I’d have no way to communicate with you. Please, come inside. The storm is gone and the kill-squads are already coming. Listen.” The whale-thing froze, raising a hand to its ear hole.

  Annie paused. She heard a high-pitched whine from a few blocks over. “You’re right, that’s got to be a patrol. But, before I go inside…why are you helping me?”

  “Because you fought the Imperium, and my people hate them. I am Aluki.”

  “Call me Annie. All right, if you’re willing to hide me, then I’m happy to cool my heels for a bit.”

  12

  Grim Tidings

  Fizgig settled wearily atop the cushions in her quarters, sighing heavily as she sank into the satin. She licked the fur behind her paw and cleaned behind her ears. It calmed her, and she needed to be calm before confronting the president.

  That concept was new to her, the idea of someone being elected to lead—yet in this case she’d approved. Dryker had been a fine candidate, a hero who’d sacrificed more than anyone else in the war with the Void Wraith and their Gorthian masters.

  She stopped grooming, heaving a reluctant sigh. “Open a priority channel to Coalition command. Tell Dryker I want to speak to him.”

  Less than two seconds later, a hologram sprang to life over the emitter in the corner of the room. “Fizgig? It’s about damned time. What the hell is going on out there?”

  “My news is grim, Dryker. We face an enemy we are ill-prepared to resist. Their technology is poorly maintained, but devastatingly effective. We lost six vessels. The enemy lost no ships, except for fighters.” Fizgig explained the failure simply. It did not touch her honor—though it still stung—but she did not like the taste of defeat, and didn’t plan to get used to it. “We were able to damage one of their capital ships, and could have taken it down given time and more resources. Unfortunately, they had six of those ships, and a host of smaller ones.”

  “So, let me see if I’m tracking this.” Dryker rose from his desk, stroking a beard that had gone from grey to white since he’d taken office. “The 6th Fleet has been wiped out to a man, and we lost forty percent of the 1st Fleet, but we haven’t managed to destroy even a single enemy ship. Is that what you’re telling me, Fizgig?”

  “Save your anger for another, Dryker,” Fizgig snarled. “I may wear this itchy uniform now, but I am still Tigris. I will not allow you to pass blame simply because you long to be back in command.” Her leg throbbed, and she needed to bite something. “We are outmatched. If we do not receive a technological miracle from the Birthplace, then these enemies will succeed where the Void Wraith failed. We are simply too few to resist them, even if we achieve a rough technological parity.”

  “I know.” Dryker closed his eyes and began massaging his temples. “The Birthplace doesn’t produce miracles. The time dilation allows them to develop and manufacture weapons far more quickly, but they still have to do the engineering. At best, if your combat data is useful, we might have a response in ten weeks.”

  “Two and a half months?” Fizgig went numb, though the news shouldn’t have surprised her. “Dryker, Nolan is trapped on that planet. Give me the 3rd Fleet, and let me go back for him. Was it not you who taught me that we do not leave our own behind?”

  Dryker stopped rubbing his temples, opening hard eyes. “I read the report. If you think I’m going to authorize a high-risk rescue just because Nolan was my XO, you’ve misjudged me. We only have nine fleets, Fizgig—no, strike that. We have seven and a half fleets, less than two weeks into a war with a species we haven’t even identified. We don’t have the manpower to go toe-to-toe with this enemy, and you know it.”

  “I disagree, Dryker. If we fail to retaliate, the enemy will scent blood. They will devour our worlds.” Her ears lay flat against her fur. “We must show them that we, too, can draw blood. I wounded one of their capital ships. Give me the 3rd, and I will harry them and melt away before they can respond.”

  “Let’s say I was willing to authorize this. How would you even get Nolan off-world? These monstrosities they use, they’re capable of reaching orbit with those cannons. Anything you send, they’ll destroy. You’ll end up with more men trapped down there, and more men going home in coffins.”

  “So what is it you propose, Dryker?” Fizgig demanded. “Inaction?” Her tail lashed back and forth behind her, but she knew he was right.

  “You’re going to get the 3rd, the 5th, and the 7th. I want you to deploy them along the edge of Primo space, along the third octant. If they invade, you are to launch hit-and-run tactics only. Skirmishing, Fizgig, not prolonged engagements. We can win skirmishes. You’ve already shown that. Strip away their fighters, and have your people watch for an opportunity. Meanwhile, I’m ordering the evacuation of all worlds within three hundred and fifty light years.”

  “Very well, Dryker. I will do as you ask—but if he dies, that is upon you.” Fizgig slammed her paw on her comm panel, terminating the connection.

  13

  The Rust Settles

  Nolan wiped a river of sweat from his right cheek, then his left. The cockpit was a sauna, and he briefly considered donning his helmet.

  No, not until they’d found some sort of shelter.

  The wind howled, strong enough that it made each ponderous step an exercise in precision. Guiding the mechs was difficult enough without battling a fifty-kilometer-per-hour headwind. Hydraulics whined with every step, and he knew it was going to take hours to clean the rust out of the joints.

  Nolan peered through the dense orange winds, but couldn’t make out more than the vague shapes of the skeletal buildings on either side of the ancient street. “Kay, can you get me a fix on anything we might use for shelter?”

  “Yes, Captain. I’m working from the scans we took when we came in-system, before the storm. There is a largely intact building two clicks to the southeast. While I cannot ascertain its true purpose, I would guess it
was some sort of parking garage. It extends several levels underground. This building will likely shield us from scans after the storm ends.”

  “Thanks, Kay. Put me through to the rest of the squad.”

  A green light flared on his view screen, indicating that he was broadcasting.

  “All right people, listen up. We’ve got a potential bolthole about two clicks away. I’m sending the coordinates.”

  “Sir, what about the Peregrine?” Edwards asked. His shadow loomed from the storm, just a few feet to the right of Nolan’s mech.

  “We don’t have much choice but to abandon her. The locals will be looking for us as soon as the storm stops, and the Peregrine is right out in the open.” Nolan leaned into the wind, continuing up the street. The hydraulics strained against the wind, fighting for every step.

  Hannan’s voice crackled over the comm. He couldn’t see her mech, but his HUD showed her position about seventy meters back. “Have you considered detonating her, sir? We won’t want them getting access to our tech, and it seems unlikely we’ll be able to repair her. Why not scuttle her?”

  “If you’re worried about them finding our tech, don’t be. I removed the core, so they won’t gain any intelligence.”

  “I have a name, Captain,” Kay protested.

  Nolan ignored her. “How they react to the crash will tell us a lot. I left the sensor suite broadcasting at short range. The Peregrine will tell us everything she can when they approach. We need to get that data—and anything else we discover—prepped for transmission to the admiral.”

  “Should have known you had a reason, sir. What about linking up with Alpha Company?”

  “Assuming they survived,” Lena pointed out, her feed popping up on Nolan’s screen. “I hate to be negative, but there’s every reason to believe we’re the only survivors.”

  “I refuse to believe that,” Nolan said. “Reval’s a prick, but he’s our prick. At least some of his men may have escaped, and we’re going to need to link up to them so we can reestablish the chain of command.” He guided the mech over a bent girder, bracing himself against the corner of a pockmarked wall.

  “Captain?” Lena asked quietly.

  “Yeah?” Nolan quickened his pace, risking a trot as he moved up the next street. A mostly intact skyscraper provided a little shelter from the wind, and he stuck close to the building to take advantage of the protection.

  “I’ve been analyzing the footage of the monsters that attacked during the battle. I’ve drawn some troubling conclusions.” She sent a file transfer request, and Nolan accepted. A second window popped up on his screen, showing footage of the creature firing. “The energy signature of that weapon is very, very close to ancient Primo—too close to be a coincidence. That’s a plasma cannon, just like you’d find among the Primo or Void Wraith.”

  “What are you telling me?” Nolan asked.

  “I don’t know precisely. It’s too soon to draw conclusions from what little data I have. It’s just a troubling connection that I thought you should be aware of.”

  “Thanks, Lena. Please continue your analysis and let me know what you find. We’ll see if we can get you a safe place to work.” Nolan reached the end of the building, guiding the mech back into the full fury of the storm. His legs were cramping by the time they reached the building Kay had indicated. The storm hadn’t abated, and he couldn’t make it out until he was a mere fifty meters from it.

  “The front doors are gone,” Edwards said, his figure hunched near where the front entrance had once stood. “It looks like this place has filled up with that rusty sand.”

  “Let’s circle the building. There might be an unclogged entrance. If not, we might have some digging to do.” Nolan guided his mech along the wall, following it until it curved to the north. About a hundred meters farther, he finally paused. “Looks like this ramp might be passable. Kay identified this place as some sort of parking garage, with several sub-levels.”

  “Any idea if it’s occupied, sir?” Hannan asked.

  “We can’t confirm that from the scans, but I doubt anyone is using it. It’s too far from the main settlement.” Nolan trotted down the ramp, flicking on his floodlights. They banished the darkness, illuminating a large, mostly empty room.

  Mounds of rusty sand lay scattered throughout, thin wisps of wind blowing streamers of orange between them. Nolan wove a path between the mounds, moving farther into the room.

  “This place really might be a parking garage, from the layout. It goes down at least one more level.” Nolan continued down, rounding a pillar as he entered the next level. There was less rusty sand here, but the walls were still too damaged to make out any writing or identifying features. He continued forward, finally stopping when he reached a wall of sand and rock. “Looks like there was a collapse on the next level. This is as far as we can go.”

  “Still a lot of space,” Hannan offered. Her mech trotted up to his. Edwards trailed slightly behind her. “We can probably set up a base camp here—short term at least.”

  “If any of Alpha Company survived, there’s plenty of room for their mechs,” Nolan agreed. He keyed the exit sequence into his mech, and the hatch opened behind him. “Let’s get our gear stowed, and settle in for the night. We’ll do some light recon when the storm stops, assuming it’s still dark out.”

  14

  Recon

  Nolan used his gauntlet to remove the pot from the makeshift stove, pouring soup into three cups. Hannan and Lena were still hunched over the holo unit, going over the footage they’d collected so far. He watched it out of the corner of his eye as he carried bowls to Hannan and then Lena.

  “Thanks, Captain,” Hannan muttered, never looking away from the vid. She brushed her hair absently from her face.

  Lena nodded graciously and used her claw to fish out a piece of chicken. “This food is quite palatable, at least compared to what we were fed among the Tigris. If we were unable to hunt, we had to eat wretched kibble.”

  Edwards gave a metallic sigh. “Wish I could still eat. That’s one of the things I miss.” He was hunched between the other two mechs, against the wall near their makeshift camp. “I do like having a giant cannon for an arm, though.”

  “So what did you pick up on this last watch, Hannan?” Nolan asked, raising his voice a little to get her attention.

  “Hmm? Oh, I was watching the ape things. Here, take a look at time index six.” Hannan flicked her wrist, rewinding the holo.

  Nolan leaned toward the holo, absently spooning soup into his mouth. “What am I looking at?”

  “See this little figure? It’s the same color armor as the bigger ones, right? Now look at time index seven point one.” Hannan flicked her wrist again and the footage blurred forward. When it stopped, the small figure was gone.

  “You think the little ones are transforming into the big ones?” Nolan asked. It was an interesting theory, and the footage seemed to support it.

  “Yeah, but I have no idea how they’re doing it.” Hannan finally took a bite of her soup.

  “I’d guess some sort of genetic manipulation,” Nolan said. “Lena?”

  “Hmm,” she mused, spearing another piece of chicken. “They may have evolved to be able to alter their size on demand, or it could be chemically induced. Either way, it presents definite tactical advantages.”

  “That it does. It’s definitely worth more investigation.” Nolan set his soup down, pinching the image to zoom in on several terrified aliens. They were huddled around a tent, next to a row of tables with assorted fruit piled on them. “Take a look at the one on the left. The body armor isn’t all that different from ours.”

  “You’re right,” Hannan said. “Two legs, two arms. You’re thinking infiltration, aren’t you?” She smiled wickedly.

  Nolan smiled back, just as wickedly. “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. We can use the rust to coat our armor, and I’m sure we can scavenge a few tarps. We cut them up and wrap them around parts of our armor, like th
at guy is doing.” The plan came together even as he spoke. “We might be able to pass for locals, which will allow us to recon the area. These people have a way to travel without Helios Gates. If we can learn what they use, we might be able to use it to get off-world.”

  “So, uh, does that mean I’d have to stay behind?” Edwards asked forlornly. “I mean, you probably can’t bring mechs, right?”

  “This one is strictly infantry, I’m afraid,” Nolan said. “We need you to keep an eye on the mechs anyway. We absolutely cannot afford to have the enemy recover them. Hannan, Lena and I will recon, after we doctor up our armor. I can’t imagine that will take very long.” He picked up his gauntlet, and began smearing it along a pile of rust. The armor picked up a thick, dirty, orange layer.

  “Sir, do you think there’s a chance we’ll find survivors?” Hannan asked. She finished her soup, tapping the bottom of the bowl to get the last few drops, then started licking the bowl clean. No calorie wasted.

  “I have to assume that at least a few other soldiers survived. Alpha Company was spread out, and since we got away they may have done the same. Going on recon will answer that question, though—or it might. Our people will consider a similar tactic, and if they’re watching the market they might make contact.”

  Nolan knew it was a long shot, but it was possible. His people needed some hope, and if he privately thought it unlikely anyone had survived there was no need to share it.

  The most important thing right now was action, even futile action.

  15

  Market

  Nolan adjusted his makeshift cloak, pulling the hood farther over his helmet. They’d reached the first row of stalls marking the edge of the market. A thin trickle of aliens moved between the stalls, haggling with shopkeepers in exactly the same way people did back in the slums of Earth.