by Aer-ki Jyr
Morgan fired a couple of warning shots into the hollow as she heard more troops scurrying about, then a dead Nestafar dropped down behind her, landing on the loose line connecting both sides of the artificial canyon. More golden sniper streaks kept firing over her head from the Calavari, providing her cover against enemies she hadn’t even seen while she got the connecting line established.
As soon as the device indicated it was secure she hit the ‘retract’ button and the line began to pull taught as she moved forward again just in time to meet up with two more Nestafar stepping through over the bodies of their fallen comrades. Morgan took a hit to her chest from one of their pistols while the other’s rifle didn’t have time to track towards her before she burnt him down. The other followed a split second later, then the trailblazer put a couple extra shots into both to make sure they stayed down, given that the kill power of the weapon wasn’t as significant as the rifle she’d left on the other side.
Backing up halfway to the box to give herself plenty of room to fight and to counter any overhead opposition, Morgan held her ground as the first of the Calavari began to come across the gap. The line was nearly level to the ground with just a hint of a downward angle, not enough to slide across even if it had been slicked, but apparently the four-armed climbing power was more than up to the task, for the Calavari were dangling beneath the line and scurrying across rapidly with their feet hooked over the tether as an anchor while their muscular arms propelled them forward…three of them anyway, for the fourth held their rifles out to the side in a tuck position.
A barrage of golden streaks shot out from at least three different Calavari positions as a scattering of red blasts came down on the troops crossing the line, one of which got hit but his shield generator took the brunt of the blast and stopped the plasma from connecting with his body. To his credit he didn’t hesitate, but kept clawing his way across in sync with the others, all staggered out so no more than 8 were on the line at the same time. Maka’var said they could have managed 10, but he didn’t want to risk the line coming down if Morgan managed to actually get it across.
Glancing down, Morgan noted the stress meter on the top of the box, indicating that it was within limits of the adhesion capable on this surface. Both boxes working together increased the strength of the line compared to a vertical climb, as well as the steady pressure of the passengers’ weight, compared with the constant yanking of ascenders coming up.
She did note a little fluctuation in the meter, which was a triangular icon filling from wide base up to top peak and changing in color as it went. It was about a fourth of the way down from the peak, which would indicate a threat of losing adhesion, and didn’t poke up more than half that distance on the most wild of fluctuations…meaning that Maka’var had made a good call.
When the first of the troops made it over Morgan was alone on the platform, either with no more Nestafar coming out to play or them wisely holding back and setting up for an ambush elsewhere. The Calavari crawled all the way over to the point where the line touched the ground and he hit his head against the wall, stopping his progress. His feet suddenly disengaged from the rope and all that Morgan could see of him was three fists hanging onto the line…then one of the reached over and grabbed the ledge and pulled his head up above it.
His other fists followed and the muscular alien pulled himself up on top and walked over beside Morgan, taking up guard position on the entrance. She waited until three of them were across before pressing herself up against the wall then sprinting back to the edge where she jumped back across the gap a bit faster than before, due to the fact that she wasn’t carrying the box with her.
The jump carried her higher than before, causing her to come back over the opposite platform four meters up where she dialed down the last bit of energy in her capacitor and dropped herself down into a semi-hard landing on her feet, which she then rolled out into a somersault from to bleed off momentum…running into the legs of one of the Calavari waiting to go across.
“Sorry,” she said, getting her feet underneath her and standing up.
“Your jump pack is well suited for Nestafar architecture,” Maka’var said, handing the Human her shield. “Did you bring enough for the rest of your men?”
“If they choose to go back to the hangar to get them, yes,” she said, strapping on her equipment pack and setting her rifle and stinger pistol into their slots on the back rack while her plasma pistol set in her hip holster, which was little more than a tiny snap-latch for the hilt to connect to.
“Well done,” Chesk’va offered.
“For a female?” she said half sarcastically as she walked over to the line of Calavari waiting to go across, stopping the next one with her left hand as she cradled her shield over her right shoulder like a half cape.
“Excuse me,” she said, holding him up for a bit before adjusting her pack controls to just less than neutral and walking out onto the line.
She gradually accelerated up into a run within a few steps, barely adding any weight to the line while using it to cross the gap with the extra weight on her back. When she got to the first Calavari she passed him by carefully, stepping in between his crossed ankles and his whirling hands, then long stepping out in front of him with a slight hop, expertly crossing the line as if it were a sidewalk, though in reality she was having to make a number of balance checks that the jump pack delayed enough that she could keep herself from falling off.
Morgan ran across, hopping over five more Calavari before she got back to the other side, then with shield in front she ducked ahead of the others assembled on the platform and followed the skirmishers inward through a narrow, zigzaggy tunnel into what looked like more traditional hallways for a starship. They were laid out in straight lines that dead-ended randomly, avoiding long stretches and giving the area a maze-like feel. The halls themselves were pentagonal, with the upper half wider than the lower to accommodate flight.
The Calavari stood only half as tall as the ceiling, but from Morgan’s perspective they were still giants. Problem was there were no Nestafar around for them to shoot, and there were six different hallways heading out from a pair of intersections, one on either side of the doorway.
“Any contacts?”
“Just one,” the Calavari on her right said, pointing. “Down there. It ran off before we could kill it.”
“I’ll have a look,” she said, running away from the six Calavari as a 7th came out to join them. Morgan ran with her shield latched to her right forearm, pumping it to and fro while keeping her pistol level in her left as she came to another branched intersection. It had two angled halls shooting off to the left, with a pair of Nestafar retreating down the first visible one. The trailblazer slid to a halt and diverted that way, then doubled back as a hail of plasma blasts covered her left side.
Twisting around she brought her shield up, snapping a shot off during the rotation then jumping back down the main hall the way she’d come. She took a moment to curse her own recklessness then set up for a pivot turn with her pistol propped on the inside of her shield next to the corner, allowing for only a three inch wide gap.
Taking a moment to listen for movement and hearing plenty, she rotated around into the backward-canted hallway and fired at the first sign of ugly alien that she saw, blocking several plasma blasts with her shield. Rather than standing still and battling it out Morgan charged forward, ramming into several and getting wrapped up in their wings as she shot them at point blank range on her left and butted them out of the way with her shield on her right.
She went on that way for several long seconds, then got through the group and found clear hallway ahead. Turning back she shot two that were still moving while counting seven in total. The Archon kicked aside a new version of pistol, but didn’t stoop down to pick it up. It looked bigger than normal, making her wonder if it wasn’t an alternate, heavy version rather than an upgrade. She spotted three of the weapons, with the other four being their standard plasma rifl
es.
Just then a pair of Calavari came around the corner behind their odd rifles, ready to shoot the enemy on sight…but only found the green-plated Human with her black shield.
“Ambush,” she told them, stepping over the bodies and walking up to the four-armed soldiers. “Tell the others to watch these forked intersections. They were hiding on the back side.”
“Are you injured?” one of them asked.
“Just a few scratches to the armor,” she said, nudging past them. “Two more went this way.”
An hour later, with nearly all of the Calavari troops onboard the jumpship and Morgan’s team already having broken through to the enormous central chamber on the ship, a few Calavari techs were crossing the artificial ravine back over to the hangar on ‘ground’ level now that this section of the ship had been cleared of the enemy. They came to one of the vertical shafts the Nestafar would fly up in lieu of an elevator and began climbing the synthetic rope installed there with all four hands up halfway to the hangar level where they pulled up over the edge and stood up…then grabbed another line hanging down nearby and scaled it up to the entry level.
As three of the techs headed into the hangar together, two others were lagging back and came up the lines a half minute later. When they began walking through the short hallway into the hangar an energy shield snapped into place, blocking their way.
“What is this?” one of them asked, pounding a fist against the clear red barrier, causing a quick burst of static around the impact point.
“What is what?” one of the leading group said, turning around at the question. His eyes went wide in surprise as he rushed back over. “Where did that come from?”
“No clue,” the inside one said, tapping the shield experimentally to gage its strength. “Why didn’t they use this to block our path?”
“Aim high,” he said, pulling out his pistol and aiming at the bottom end of the shield. The others did the same, and within a second all five were firing pointblank into the shield, causing bursts of static high and low. They kept firing for nearly a minute before the inside two stopped.
“What’s wrong?”
“Heavy,” one of them said, flexing its shoulders.
“If we pump enough rounds into it it’ll come down, but we have to keep up our rate of fire so it can’t recharge.”
“No, the gravity,” the inside left one said. “It’s increasing.”
The outside three stopped firing, confused and concerned expressions on their faces. They glanced at each other, then at the two across the energy field. “We don’t feel anything.”
“More here,” the other inside one added, leaning against the wall. His pistol slipped out of his hand and fell sharply to the ground with a clank. “Double, I’d guess.”
“They may be trying to pin us down for a counterattack,” one of the outside ones guessed.
“But why block off the hangar?”
“Is it still increasing?”
“No,” the inside left one said, having trouble speaking. “But it’s heavy.”
One of the outside ones activated his comm gear and tried to contact the forward teams, reporting their status while the other two went back to shooting the shield.
“Grab a rifle,” one of the inside ones suggested, firing lazily into the base as his gun arm wavered.
The one on the comm took off running, which for a Calavari sounded like a stampede and looked only slightly less intimidating. As he got over to one of the tightly packed transports he got a response back from one of the commanders, indicating that most of the troops weren’t affected. Only those along the hangar were, with the more interior sections still at normal gravity.
The Calavari ran up into the transport and grabbed a spare rifle from the armory rack with its left hand, then grabbed another two with his other hands, leaving one to work his comm unit. When he got back over to the shield the plasma shots continued but the shield was being stubborn.
“The gravity zone is only along the hangar. If you move inward you should be able to avoid it,” he said, passing out the rifles.
“How far?”
“The other side. This whole chamber is heavy.”
“Too far,” one of the inside ones said, picking up his pistol from the ground and firing as he labored to stand steady, his heavy musculature seeming to betray him. “Get us through.”
Without further conversation the three outside techs took a step back and began shooting into the top of the shield with the rifles and continued to do so for several minutes before the matrix finally succumbed. One of the Calavari on the gravity side staggered forward, then the shield reformed across his back as he leaned forward on crossing, pinning him in place. An angry jerk of his powerful muscles took it down again, thin as the recharging matrix was, and the rifle bearers fired a few extra shots over his head to keep it down as the other one came through, immediately feeling a sense of relief as they returned to normal gravity.
The shield reformed behind them, cutting the hangar off from the rest of the jumpship again.
“What are the Nestafar doing?” one of the rifle-bearing ones asked. “I can understand the shield, but not the gravity.”
“If it’s low level, they may be able to fly up high in zero gravity and shoot down on us. That may be why it only affects the cavern.”
“There’s a cavern in the center of the ship,” another pointed out.
“How high do you think they can pump it?” one of the fatigued ones asked, making his own mental guess.
“No more than 3x, maybe 4,” the other tech suggested, glancing with the others for confirmation.
“We probably got the worst of it. No more than 2x, I think.”
“Two times gravity is bad enough, but why only here and not where the rest of our troops are? Doesn’t make sense.”
One of the outsiders put a hand on the fatigued one’s shoulder. “If we’re stuck out here, let’s work on permanently disabling that shield.”
The others nodded their agreement, recognizing the danger if the Nestafar upped the gravity throughout the entire ship save for a safe zone reserved for themselves.
7
“Where are you now?” Ian-2799 asked.
“We’re hanging out on the edge of the inner chamber…and it’s freaking huge,” Morgan answered.
“Well, I don’t know about your area, but we’re working our way through a ghost town. Aside from the retreating fire teams and ambush squads, this part of the ship is deserted. I don’t like it. If they’re monkeying around with the gravity we could be in for a world of hurt.”
“Not sure what to make of that,” Morgan admitted. “The Calavari commander has groups of techs hacking into the Nestafar systems across the ship and they say the ring of high gravity extends the entire way around, even the far side.”
“Suggests a preplanned strategy then.”
“Point,” Morgan admitted. “If we had more troops on the way I could see them using it as a delaying tactic in concert with the shields, but the fact that they’re not engaging us much blows that theory. Anyone got any others?”
“It smells like a trap to me,” Seth-3110 chimed in. “We’re working our way through the same ghost town. If they’re evacuating their people to safe zones and cranking up the gravity when they’re clear that alone might kill us, if they can get it high enough. The shields keeping us in are another red flag in that department.”
“I’ve already had a conversation with the Calavari on that. They said they thought 4 times normal gravity would be the theoretical max…which is about 3.5g. I’ve done that in training before, so I’m not worried. And if we’re fighting the Nestafar they’ll be similarly affected.”
“Unless they’re flying,” Ian pointed out, “and the gravity field doesn’t extend all the way up.”
“Which is why I want the rest of you to stay ‘indoors,’ so to speak. My team is headed out into the center, so if they’re going to spring a trap we’ll flush it out. Maka’va
r has ordered most of his teams to stay back as well, with only about 200 troops going with us.”
“Hang on,” Carver-6774 broke in. “We just went heavy.”
“Where?” Morgan asked, adjusting her in-helmet battlemap to a wide view of the entire ship, then scaled it back down a little to focus on their half.
“Not far from the ravine. We’ve been patrolling the edge line and running…shit,” the Archon said, cutting out.
Morgan waited a moment, but no response came. “Carver...you there?”
“Wa…i…t.”
“Holding,” Morgan said, guessing as to the strain in his voice and having her spidey senses start to crawl up the back of her spine.
“Damn…it,” the Archon’s voice came back, with heavy breathing audible in between words. “That’s no 3.5, Morgan. That’s 10+. The ravine…cranked up too…and just pancaked one of my Calavari. I dragged him…out to the 2g zone…but he’s hurt pretty bad. Concussion at least…from the fall. He’s also bleeding. Maybe organ damage.”
Morgan squeezed her eyes shut in anger. How could she have been so stupid?
“Fall back to the normal gravity, wherever the line is. We’re unaffected at my position. Everyone else report in. Who’s affected?”
“We just spiked,” Eriona-5229 said. “We’re not far from the ravine. About 2g here.”
“Normal here,” Ian added, with the others Archons all chiming in. Based on her battlemap Morgan guessed that another ring-like section of the ship had upped its gravity while the original did likewise, thickening the gravity zone in between them and the breach point.
“Morgan?” Maka’var’s voice boomed behind her as she was looking out into the huge crater-like chamber in the center of the ship that had varying buildings sticking up at the center and thousands, if not millions, of nooks covering the landscape that stretched at least a couple of kilometers from one side to the other.