Embracing Oblivion: Wolfpack Book 3

by Toby Neighbors

  “If you stay on the shuttle, Esma, you’ll run out of air and die for sure. At least this way you’ve got a chance.”

  “I should have listened to you,” she said, her voice shaking a little. “I should have stayed on the Charlemagne.”

  “What’s done is done,” Dean said. “Nothing on this mission turned out the way we expected except that you saved our lives getting the shuttle onto this ship.”

  “You might have simply dropped out of the gravitation field,” she argued.

  “Or we might have smashed into the side of the ship and been crushed. We’ll never know, but we’re alive now, so we have to do whatever it takes to stay that way.”

  “Alright,” she said.

  Dean knew she was frightened and she had every right to be. Nothing he could say or do would alleviate those fears. He had to trust that Adkins and Chancy would take care of Esma and turn his full attention to what lay ahead of him and the rest of his platoon.

  “I think I see something,” Ghost said.

  They were approaching what appeared to be a different section of the ship. The straight corridor continued, but the light changed. Instead of ample light from fixtures on either side of the hallway at regular intervals, there were single, dim bulbs in the center of the hallway ceiling, with long spaces between them where the darkness rose up like a fog, obscuring everything not directly under the light.

  “Are those some kind of dungeon cells?” Harper asked as they approached the first of a series of small rooms with old fashioned jail bars that faced out into the hallway.

  “Looks like it,” Ghost replied.

  “It’s empty,” Wilson said with obvious relief.

  “They aren’t all empty,” Dean said. “Keep moving.”

  They continued down the empty corridor and passed a dozen empty cells, before finally reaching one that was occupied. Dean called the platoon to a halt as he peered into the gloomy recesses of the cell. His TCU amplified the low light so that he could see the huge, harry creature inside. It was slumped on the floor, its powerful legs were pulled up toward its chest by the long arms. It was obviously the same kind of creature that had attacked them on the space station, charging straight at their defensive line and smashing into Sergeant D’Vris. The impact had injured Adkins and Pimrey, but the stalwart Frenchman had died upon impact as the creature crashed into the Heavy Armor Specialist. Only the creature in the cell didn’t look as ferocious or powerful. Its hair was shedding, leaving unsightly bald patches, and its skin hung like an oversized garment from its arms and legs that appeared to be wasting away.

  “Oh my god,” Tallgrass said. “This is criminal.”

  “It’s dying in there,” Carter said.

  “Who knows how long it’s been caged,” Dean said.

  He wanted to step up and speak to the creature that was staring at him with small, blank eyes. But there was no comprehension in the animal’s gaze, no sign of intelligence.

  “Keep moving,” he ordered instead.

  They passed several more of the creatures, some who looked up, but none tried to speak or even bothered to move closer to the bars of their cell. Dean felt sorry for the creatures. They had the body of a gorilla, only much larger. Even those who appeared to have been forgotten in the awful prison cells were obviously taller and wider than any simian on Earth. But proportionately their heads were too small for their bodies. Dean didn’t know if they were bred that way on purpose, or if they had evolved with small heads and tiny brains, but it didn’t bode well for any hope of intelligence.

  Finally they came to a creature who responded to them. As soon as Wilson came within sight of the huge beast it roared, bringing the platoon to a sudden, involuntary stop. It rushed the bars of its cage and slammed against them. Then it reached out a long arm toward the HA Specialist, who was just out of reach.

  More of the creatures in cells further down the corridor began to howl and scream, banging their massive bodies against the bars of their prisons.

  “Well, they aren’t all wasting away,” Chavez said.

  “What are we going to do?” Tallgrass asked.

  “There’s nothing we can do,” Dean said. “They’re locked up and we aren’t here to free them.”

  “They’re aliens,” she argued. “Isn’t our mission to bring them back alive?”

  “I don’t think they’re the ones who built or piloted this ship,” Dean said.

  “That doesn’t really matter, does it,” she said as she raised her rifle.

  It passed through Dean’s mind to stop her. She was a well-disciplined specialist and she wouldn’t have disobeyed him if he’d told her not to shoot, but she had a point. Under the right circumstances Dean would gladly have captured one of the creatures for the EsDef scientists to study. And letting her tranq one of the massive beasts also had the added benefit of revealing just how potent their non-lethal ammo truly was.

  “Go slow,” Dean said. “Let’s see how many shots it takes to knock the creature out.”

  Tallgrass looked at Dean and although he couldn’t see the disapproval on her face which was covered by her battle helmet, he got the message she was sending him. It didn’t take a genius to know she disapproved of using the creatures for any purpose, but he had no other alternatives. If the tranq-darts did nothing to the huge beasts they were in big trouble and he would have to change his tactics dramatically.

  She fired once, the dart sticking into the beast’s chest, but it didn’t seem to notice. It certainly didn’t slow the banging it was doing to the metal bars of its cell.

  “Again,” Dean ordered.

  The second also seemed to have no effect, but the third slowed it. The fourth dart ended the creature’s furious rant, and the fifth knocked it out. Once the creature was unconscious, Dean ordered Wilson forward.

  “Set your cannon for a five round burst,” Dean told the HA Specialist.

  The tranq-darts spewed from the shoulder mounted weapon and the beast howled, then fell back, before passing out.

  “Successful test,” Ghost said.

  “It’s good to know we can stop them if we have to,” Harper said.

  “The one we fought on the space station took everything we threw at it and kept coming,” Chavez said. “It’s hard to believe five little darts can bring them down.”

  “Perhaps these are older,” Tallgrass said. “Their strength sapped from captivity.”

  “Damn,” Carter said. “If these are the weak ones, I don’t want to meet a strong one.”

  “Let’s hope we don’t. But something locked the creatures up down here,” Dean said. “Our job is to find those people, or aliens, whatever they are. We tranq all the simians down here and then find our way to where the makers of this ship are.”

  “And if we can save these?” Tallgrass asked.

  “Then we will,” Dean said sincerely, although he couldn’t imagine how that might be possible.

  Chapter 10

  For the first time since Dean and his platoon had set foot on the alien vessel, the passageways they were traveling through changed. The wide corridors shifted to much smaller spaces. The HA Specialists were forced to move single file, their large armored shields had to be angled to fit between groups of pipes and machinery that protruded into the corridor.

  “I don't like this,” Chavez said. “It’s perfect for an ambush.”

  “Keep moving,” Dean said.

  “I’ve got nothing on the MSV,” Harper added.

  “Still don’t like it,” Chavez complained.

  Dean didn’t like it either, but they had no other choice. Their task was to explore the alien vessel and that meant searching every passageway, room, nook, and storage closet. So far, the only rooms they had encountered seemed to be holding cells, if not outright cages.

  “I’ve got movement,” Harper announced.

  “Platoon hold,” Dean said, enlarging the vid feed from the MSV that was minimized on his TCU display.

  The little drone w
as in the middle of the narrow corridor several hundred feet ahead of Dean’s platoon. He could see the four-legged feline creatures moving toward them, only they weren’t on the floor. They were moving along the walls and ceiling, their back-mounted weapons pointed down the long hallway.

  “Wilson,” Dean ordered the lead HA Specialist, “defensive posture. Bring your utility cannon to bear. Ghost, move in behind him. We have multiple bogeys approaching.”

  “Should I detonate?” Harper asked, wanting to set off the MSV’s concussive charge.

  “No,” Dean said. “Keep it stationary. I want eyes on the enemy. Wilson, you ready?”

  “Yes, Captain,” the big HA Specialist said in his deep voice.

  “Ghost?”

  “Yes, sir,” the sniper said calmly.

  “They’re coming on the walls and ceiling,” Dean said.

  “Like shooting fish in a barrel,” Ghost replied.

  “Just remember how quickly they can move,” Dean warned. “Wilson, set your cannon on full auto and blast the hell out of them. We don’t know how many rounds it will take to bring these creatures down.”

  “I wish we could bring more guns to bear,” Chavez said.

  “Tallgrass, move up to support,” Dean ordered.

  He was watching the aliens, who had stopped moving. There was no indication of communication between the strange beings, but they all seemed to act in concert. As Dean watched via the MSV they began to bunch their powerful rear legs beneath them.

  “What are they doing?” Harper asked.

  “They’re about to pounce,” Dean said. “Get ready, platoon. They move fast.”

  “Not faster than a bullet,” Ghost said.

  “We ain’t firing bullets, boss,” Wilson said. “Just darts.”

  The attack happened so fast and so quietly that even Dean was shocked. The creatures, nearly a dozen of them, opened fire with their laser weapons. Wilson was kneeling, his big shield providing cover for the rest of the platoon, who were forced to duck down to avoid the shots that went over the HA Specialist’s shield. The laser fire didn’t make noise as it shot out of the weapons on the backs of the feline aliens. It did sizzle and pop as it burned into the walls and ceiling of the narrow hallway. The heavy armor held but there was no guarantee for how long it might withstand the barrage. The aliens fired a single burst every second, or so it seemed to Dean. Not a true auto fire, but with twelve weapons in the narrow hallway it was more than enough to fill the area with deadly light.

  “Return fire!” Chavez shouted.

  “Can’t,” Ghost replied, as calm as if he were waiting for a coffee from a street vendor. “They’re out of range.”

  “Damn,” Kliner grumbled. “How’d they learn to do that?”

  “They’re intelligent,” Dean said, “and adapting new tactics. Time for us to do the same. Harper.”

  The MSV was close to the aliens. It exploded in a much more dramatic fashion than the laser weapons. There was smoke and flame, all of which was too far away to be dangerous to Dean’s platoon.

  “Move!” Dean ordered. “Wilson, how’s your shield?”

  “Hot, but my systems are all online,” the big Heavy Armor Specialist said.

  “Good, keep moving.”

  They advanced at a slow pace. The concussion blast had driven the aliens back. Dean couldn’t see that any of the creatures were hurt, they were still too far down the hallway to see clearly and it only took a few moments for the creatures to regroup and the barrage of laser fire to resume.

  “This sucks!” Carter complained.

  “Don’t bunch up,” Dean ordered. “Stay alert. We have no idea what we’re marching into, people.”

  “Almost in range,” Wilson said.

  It seemed to Dean as if the aliens could hear them, although he knew that wasn’t possible. They pulled back further into the ship, staying out of range of the non-lethal ammunition.

  “Damn, they’re onto us,” Ghost said.

  “How the hell can they know what range our weapons have?” Kliner said.

  “They don’t know,” Dean said. “But they don’t want to get too close.”

  “Or else they’re trying to coax us into a trap,” Chavez said.

  Dean was thinking the same thing. He didn’t like following the aliens down the hallway. There was no telling what they were marching into. The last thing he wanted was to get overconfident and lead his platoon into a trap. But they really didn’t have any choice. They couldn’t stop in the hallway. He had no way of knowing how long the aliens could keep up their laser fire or how long the heavy armor would hold up against it. Retreating wasn’t an option either. The aliens would just follow them, staying far enough away that his Specialists couldn’t effectively return fire.

  “Harper, send three MSVs,” Dean said.

  “You want me to detonate?” she asked. “Try and take them out?”

  “No, try to get past them,” Dean said. “We have to know where they’re leading us.”

  The matchbook-sized drones raced up the hallway. The aliens caught sight of them and turned their fire onto the MSVs.

  “Forward!” he ordered. “Double quick.”

  They jogged forward, and Dean quickly learned that the aliens didn’t have tracking capabilities on their weapons. The feline aliens were covered in a tight fitting outfit, their laser weapons strapped onto their backs. The guns didn’t rotate or move. The four legged creatures had to turn their bodies to aim their lasers.

  “Don’t fire until you can hit them all,” Dean ordered.

  The MSVs were controlled by Fast Attack Specialist Emily Harper, who sent the tiny drones into evasive maneuvers that made them even more difficult to shoot, but the massed fire by the aliens eventually got all three, but not before they were vulnerable to fire from Dean’s platoon.

  Wilson’s utility cannon erupted with the anemic sounding chatter of the non-lethal ammunition. The report from the gun, while fast, did not inspire confidence in Dean. Ghost joined the attack, and Tallgrass added her own fire. The tranq-darts hit eight of the aliens, most with multiple rounds. They tried to sprint away but the drug from the darts slowed them down. Dean was frustrated by the amount of ammunition it took to bring the creatures down off the walls, and even then they weren’t rendered unconscious. Seven of the aliens were able to get back out of range, even though three of them had been hit. The other five were on the ground, growling and firing their laser weapons in a haphazard fashion.

  “Watch yourself,” Dean ordered. “Focus your fire on the ones on the ground.”

  The platoon came to a halt about fifteen feet from the creatures on the floor. The others had moved out of sight and for a moment Dean was simply grateful that they weren’t under fire any more.

  “Staff Sergeant, disable those weapons,” Dean instructed. “Tallgrass, check on the aliens. We have to make sure they’re out cold. I don’t want them playing possum and then flanking us from behind. Kliner, check on Wilson’s shield. We need to know if they’re causing damage to our armor. Harper, get me eyes down that hallway.”

  Suddenly the lights that illuminated the corridor Dean’s platoon was in went out.

  “That’s not good,” Carter said.

  “Switch to night vision,” Dean ordered.

  “The aliens are down, sir,” Tallgrass said. “Looks like they’re breathing, but there’s no way to tell what the drugs are doing to them.”

  “Do we have zip-ties, Sergeant?” Dean asked the Demolitions Specialist.

  “Yes sir,” she replied.

  “Alright, one around each leg, then hobble them together. Make it tight.”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Sir,” Kliner said, assessing Wilson’s shield. “Looks like scorching from the lasers, but no structural damage. It’s still pretty hot though.”

  “Alright, move to the front, Kliner,” Dean ordered. “Wilson you stay in the middle of the formation. Carter, I want you bringing up the rear. Are we ready, Staff
Sergeant?”

  “I think so, sir,” Chavez said. “There’s not much I can do with these weapons other than cut them off.”

  “Do it,” Dean said.

  He had moved forward and close enough to get a good look at the alien creatures. He was even more convinced that they weren’t the ones in control of the ship. They had powerful-looking paws, with long articulated digits, almost like fingers, but with thick pads full of tiny hooks. Dean didn’t think they had the dexterity to create complex weapons, or even get the lasers mounted on their backs. Someone was using the felines like foot soldiers.

  “Sir, take a look at their armor,” Chavez said. “It’s thick. It’s why our darts weren’t effective. Only the head shots actually penetrated.”

  “It looks like a wet suit,” Dean said. “Is it rubber?”

  “It’s some sort of insulating material. My guess would be that it’s some sort of armor against the laser fire they’re using.”

  “Makes sense,” Dean said, although he didn’t have the first clue as to what type of flexible material would protect against the searing heat of a laser.

  “Sir, we have a problem,” Harper announced. “The aliens have moved back through a hatch the MSV can’t navigate.”

  “Which means we need to get moving again,” Dean said. “Alright, let’s do this carefully.”

  They moved on, passing the fallen feline creatures. Dean could only hope that the non-lethal ammo would keep them down until they finished their mission. If the creatures woke up and attacked from the rear, Dean’s platoon might be overwhelmed.

  “Captain Dante, any sign of our back-up?” Dean asked over the open frequency.

  “Unfortunately not,” Esma replied. “Looks like you’re still on your own. I get the feeling they aren’t planning to take any chances by closing with the alien ship.”

  “A Recon platoon is nothing more than expendable grunts, I guess,” Dean said bitterly.

  “That’s not how we all feel, Captain,” Esma said with compassion.

  “Well, we’re here and the Kroll know it. No question about that anymore. Adkins, Chancy, stay on high alert.”

  “Yes, sir, Captain,” Adkins said.