by Chris Fox
“They are repairing the mounds,” T’kon said, walking carefully to the building’s edge. The floor ended abruptly, and Nolan made sure to stay a couple meters back. “It is done after every battle. The technology is only used by the planetstriders, so far as we know. The techsmiths guard the secret jealously, and even when I was a clan leader, I was not privy to it.”
Hannan emerged from below, picking a careful path to Nolan’s side. “You remember the first time we saw a Void Wraith harvester taking off?” she said, after watching for a few moments. “I’m getting that same feeling. Those things are absolutely terrifying. What do they use as a power source?”
“We don’t know,” T’kon admitted. “My society is different than yours, which is part of why I approached you. We are divided into castes. The leadership caste—Takkar’s caste—commands us in battle. In theory, the seekers come next. They are our religious caste, and hear the whispers of the Nameless Ones—but most clan leaders hold them in low esteem, and in practice their power is limited. Below them stands the warrior caste, the largest caste in the Imperium. Below the warriors are the techsmiths. They maintain the planetstriders and the dreadnoughts. I do not know what your techsmiths are like, but ours are tight-lipped with their secrets. They tell us nothing, shrouding their science in mysticism. They are more similar to seekers than to any other caste.”
Nolan was still distracted by the formation of the mound, which had to require an incredible amount of energy. The last piece finally settled into place, hiding the planetstrider from view. The newly assembled mound probably protected it from planetary scans. No wonder they’d walked into a trap.
“We don’t have a caste system,” Nolan explained, “not like you do. Our techs are free with their information, and many of our warriors also possess technical skills. Annie does a lot of our repairs. I’m curious to hear more about your castes, particularly these seekers. And what are the Nameless Ones?”
“They are dark gods,” T’kon said, his voice lowering to reverence. “All but the most foolish seek to avoid their terrible gaze. Ages past, that gaze fell upon the Ganog and we were forced to enact the will of the Nameless Ones. The galaxy became a funerary pyre, lit to celebrate the Nameless Ones. Then those dark beings departed, and our people hid all knowledge about them lest we draw their eye once more.”
Nolan had an uneasy sense of recognition. These myths, if they were anything like ancient Primo myth, might point back to the Gorthians. These Nameless Ones sounded like exactly the kind of con they might try to run.
“Sir,” Hannan said, her voice barely audible over the wind. “We need to get this information back to the admiral, ASAP. She needs to see this footage.”
“I agree. T’kon, we’ve got mechs stashed a few clicks away. Can you escort us safely there?” Nolan asked.
“In all likeliness, yes,” T’kon said. “You can use these mechs to communicate with your fleet?”
“In theory. They use quantum entanglement to send information over vast distances. Lena can probably explain the science, if you’re interested.”
“We also possess this technology.” T’kon turned from the mound, his expression hidden behind his helmet. “If you use it, Krekon will almost certainly detect the signal. He is no doubt waiting for just such a lapse, eager to send out packs of Saurians to run you down.”
“Then let’s hope that if our people are out there, they don’t try to transmit,” Nolan said grimly. He gave the mound one last look, then turned to climb down.
18
Burke
Burke peered through the crack in the warehouse wall. Had that been a flash of movement? He stared, unblinking, for long seconds. Nothing. Probably just the wind blowing rust around.
“What’s the ETA, Nuchik?” He called softly over his shoulder. “You said we got everything you needed.”
“We did,” she snapped, pointing a soldering iron sternly in his direction. “This radio was designed to be mounted in a mech, not affixed to a naked circuit board on the middle of a pile of debris. It’s going to take a minute, sir.” The last word tottered under the sarcasm. She heaved a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Burke. It’s just…what if we’re all that’s left? I saw Reval’s mech go down. He was surrounded.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s dead,” Burke countered, though he knew that it did, in fact, almost certainly mean that his commanding officer—a man he’d idolized, part mentor and part father—was dead.
He took one last look through the crack, then moved to squat next to Nuchik. “Look, we get the radio up and broadcast our intel, then we’ll start searching for other survivors. It’s possible Reval got away, or someone else might have. We did. Others probably did too. We’re the 1st, not the fragging 14th.”
Nuchik didn’t reply. She paused to tie her red hair into a ponytail, then bent back to her work. She deftly soldered a lead onto the circuit board, a tiny streamer of smoke rising from where the iron touched the board.
She was good with this stuff, and could probably have had a career doing it. Instead, she’d become the finest sniper in the 1st—the best of the best.
The radio’s digital display surged reluctantly to life, and the holo showed the Connecting… icon.
Nuchik eyed him soberly. “Don’t get excited yet. We don’t know if this thing can reach the Quantum Network. There’s no relay in this system, and it doesn’t have much juice. It probably won’t reach the sun.”
“If there are any Fleet ships in system, we can reach them,” Burke pointed out. “And any survivors from Alpha Company will probably pick up the signal.” He gave a reluctant sigh. He hated not having the tools to do his job. “You’re right about the sun, though. We’ll probably need more power to reach the Helios Gate.”
“What do you plan to do if our signal draws them to us?” Nuchik asked, once again focused on the exposed circuit board.
“We have to assume that it will. As soon as we’re done broadcasting, we’ll move the radio and find another bolthole.”
“That’s risky, sir. It will take time to disassemble the radio. The smart thing to do would be to scrap it after we broadcast, then just bug out.” Her lips tightened, but she kept back whatever else she’d been about to say.
“It is a risk, I know. But if we leave the radio, we lose the chance to send intel back to the fleet. It’s not like we can replace it.”
“I don’t like risks, sir.” She stepped away from the radio, nodding at it. “But if you’re going to do this, then it’s ready to go.”
Burke licked his lips, then tapped the Transmit button. “Fleet Command, this is Lieutenant Burke from Alpha Company. Unit integrity has been compromised, and we have survivors in need of extraction. We’re trapped behind enemy lines, and may be unable to respond after this transmission.”
He tapped a series of keys, linking his comm to the transmitter, and uploaded all seven hundred terabytes of data. It included the footage from the battle, more from the market, and the reports Burke had compiled.
“It’s transmitting. We’ll know in about thirty seconds if it’s sending. The connection will time out after that, if it can’t reach the Gate,” Nuchik explained.
“I know how the radio works, Private,” Burke snapped. He gritted his teeth. It wasn’t her fault, but he was pushing thirty hours with no sleep and his patience had been gone hours ago.
They waited. The screen finally flashed No Connection.
“Damn it,” Burke roared, slamming his fist into the wall with a hollow thud. He closed his eyes, forcing calm. “Pack it up. Let’s get the hell out of here. We’ll try again in six hours.”
19
Signal
Nolan finished annotating the holo, noting his estimates about the speed and strength of the Ganog elites that had squared off against their mechs. That data would make its way back to Kathryn eventually. He had no doubt that she and her people would find a way to exploit it, building fantastic new weapons to help even the odds.
Beep, beep,
beep. His comm flashed the incoming transmission icon. Nolan accepted it, watching as the holo resolved into a familiar face.
“Is that Burke?” Hannan asked, giving up the pretense of sleeping. She walked over to watch the message.
“Yeah, and that’s not good. They’d have their senior most officer make the broadcast,” Nolan said, watching the playback. “Hey, Annie, can you go grab T’kon?”
“Yes, sir.” Annie set down the ladle she’d been using to stir the stew, then rose and trotted out into the shop.
“He’ll move after sending that message,” Hannan said. “You know that.”
“Yes, which means we need to get there fast.” Nolan picked up his gauntlets. “Get suited up.”
“You sure going in on foot is a good idea? We might need some real firepower.”
“The mechs will draw too much attention, and we don’t have time to make it there and back. We need to get to Burke, ASAP.”
T’kon ducked into the room. “You’ve found your people?” he rumbled.
“We have a fix on their position,” Nolan confirmed. “They just broadcast using our Quantum Network. They’ll move, and quickly. We need to get there now if we want to have a chance to link up. How quickly do you think Krekon and his Saurians can get there?”
“They are likely already mobilizing. Krekon will release his red-scales. Saurians will swarm that location, pinning his prey until the melter can arrive. We must be swift if we wish to beat them there.”
Nolan was already moving. “Annie, stay here with Lena and Aluki. Hannan, you’re with me.” He moved the panel aside, grunting at the weight. It was heavier than it looked, and he reassessed his estimate of T’kon’s strength.
He moved into the alley, using his wrist comm to bring up a route to the signal. “It’s two-point-six clicks away. We can run that in about sixty seconds. T’kon, can you pick the safest route?”
“Follow me. Run, humans.” T’kon began to sprint, weaving out of the alley and into the next.
Nolan was quickly winded, feeling the effects of the slightly heavier gravity. His conditioning kept him moving, and he sucked in quick little breaths as he ran. Alleys blurred by. Hannan pounded a parallel course behind him.
T’kon came up short at the base of a shattered stairwell. He leapt up, catching the edge of the second floor. “Give me your hand.”
Nolan did as he asked, tensing as the Ganog flung him up onto the second floor. Nolan rolled to his feet, catching Hannan as she landed next to him.
T’kon followed, crouching next to them. “The signal came from the building ahead.”
Nolan scanned the area. There was very little movement, just a large pile of worm-like insects, and a single alien weaving drunkenly down the rubble-strewn street. The building had been boarded up with rusty girders, and Nolan couldn’t see inside.
“Nine o’clock, sir,” Hannan whispered.
Nolan looked where she’d indicated. “Damn it,” he whispered back. “The first pack of Saurians is already here. I count six. T’kon, how tough are these guys? Think we can take them by surprise?”
“They are ka’tok. Worthless against a Ganog elite. Unfortunately, I dare not reveal myself. If Krekon finds out I am here, he will bring the full might of Takkar’s fleet down upon us.” T’kon removed a large slug thrower from his holster, sighting at the first target. “I find it curious that there is only one pack. It is unlike Krekon to be so careless. We will use conventional weapons. Ready yourselves.”
Nolan nodded at Hannan, who eased her rifle from her shoulder holster. Nolan withdrew his particle pistol, sighting down the barrel. “Fire.”
T’kon fired first, his pistol giving a deafening crack. A split second later everything above the Saurian’s waist was vaporized into a fine red mist.
“What the hell kind of rounds are you using?” Hannan demanded over the comm.
“Explosive.” T’kon’s tone was smug. “I’ve been hand-loading them all morning. Definitely worth the effort.”
Nolan opened up with his particle pistol, catching a Saurian in the face. The reptile dropped without a cry, tumbling to the rusty alley below his perch.
Hannan’s rifle barked, and another Saurian dropped. The rest scattered, diving into the shadows.
Nolan dropped back into cover. “Hannan, circle around to the right. I’ll go left. T’kon, see if you can keep them busy while we get into position.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, leaping from the rotting floor and landing heavily in a pile of rusty rubble. Fortunately his armor shielded him from the impact. Nolan surged to his feet, sprinting along the wall. He came up short at an alleyway, advancing slowly, straining to hear any sign of the Saurians—but they were overpowered by the roar of T’kon’s slug thrower.
Nolan risked a look around the corner, then fell back into cover. A bright red flash came from the shadows near the doorway leading into the building. It sizzled past his head, vaporizing the wall behind him.
He dropped to one knee, firing blindly around the corner. “They’ve got me pinned,” he whispered into the comm. “Hannan, can you get a bead on them?”
“Hang tight, sir.” Plasma fire came from about forty yards away, and a high-pitched scream came from one of the Saurians. “Can’t reach the last two, sir. Looks like they’re dug in.”
T’kon popped off another few shots, and Nolan did the same. The last two Saurians were keeping their heads down, playing for time—time that Nolan knew he didn’t have. The other red-scales would be arriving soon, and behind them would come Krekon.
The sharp report of a high-caliber rifle echoed through the buildings, then it fired again. Nolan darted a glance around the corner of the wall just as the second body slumped to the ground, headless.
“Nolan, is that you?” called a gruff male voice.
“Burke?” Nolan called back, creeping from over.
“Yeah, it’s me. Nuchik, we’re clear. You can come down.” Burke stepped into the open, his armor a pristine white. He popped his helmet, giving Nolan a mocking smile. “I know you’re from the 14th, but I didn’t expect your gear to go south that quickly. No wonder Command never gave you anything. Look how you treat your gear.”
Nolan wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.
“We must depart swiftly,” T’kon called from his perch. “Listen.”
In the distance, engines screamed through the buildings—the same engines they’d heard the day of the battle.
The enemy was mobilizing.
“We can catch up later, Burke.” Nolan turned on his heel and started sprinting back the way they’d come. “Let’s move, people!”
20
Demonstration
Krekon yanked the lever, extending the cruiser’s ramp. Hot, rusty wind swirled around him as his ship descended toward the slums below. Ka’tok scattered into the shadows, fleeing his wrath—but they were inconsequential, and could be hunted later if needed.
He stepped out the side of the transport even as it glided toward a wide alleyway, and landed in a crouch, his boots shattering rubble. He opened all four nostrils, building a tapestry of scents. The smell of Saurian blood was overpowering, yet he picked out something unexpected.
Not these new races—he expected the pungent human and the acrid Tigris. No, the unexpected scent was Ganog. A warrior had been here, yet his body was not among the fallen. The scent was maddeningly familiar, but too faint for Krekon to identify.
The cruiser landed in a spray of gritty debris, kicking up a high wind that muddied the scents. Krekon’s fur darkened, and he fixed a scowl on the vessel. This was the second time today he’d witnessed Saurian incompetence. He would need to kill one in front of the others, or the problem would worsen.
Krekon returned to his examination, pausing to kneel next to the first body. This one was unusable. The head had been shot, bursting like a kek sore. The next body had been cored through the chest by an explosive round, but the head was intact.
“What sec
rets do you hold, ka’tok?”
Krekon knelt next to the body, placing two fingers against the corpse’s brow.
An electrical charge flowed from his fingers, linking with the lingering charge in the corpse’s brain. The cells were dying, the neurological impulses nearly gone. Krekon glided along the pathways, searching for the most recent memories. This one had seen a flash of blue plasma, discharged by an unfamiliar pistol. That pistol was held by an armored figure.
Krekon studied the memory. This armor was dirty, but under that dirt were specks of the purest white. The armor hadn’t labored through many battles. It had been coated, dulled, as a disguise. That disguise might fool a casual observer, but Krekon recognized the style of armor. It belonged to these new aliens, the Coalition.
He rose from the corpse, seeking the next. The third was also unusable, the head exploded just as the first had been. Were these aliens familiar with melters? Did they realize the dangers posed by a freshly deceased mind? Perhaps. Or perhaps it was their preferred method of killing. He didn’t yet know enough to determine the truth of it. It was even possible the warrior had warned them, despite the taboo of speaking to non-Ganog about the secrets of metabiology.
Krekon stalked to the next corpse, kneeling to touch the still-warm brow. Its mind was intact, but it had died without seeing its assailant. The last two were the same. Useless.
He bared his fangs, his fur going scarlet. Somehow these humans had ambushed his best hounds. They’d escaped back into the shadows, scurrying like pokpok.
“Sissus!” Krekon bellowed, whirling to face the cruiser. He stalked in that direction, moving to meet the Saurian who hurried down the ramp.