“Get it open, Sergeant.”
“With pleasure.”
Vance spun neatly on his heel and planted his hand on the panel. A row of red lights flashed once and the door stayed shut.
“Nice work, Sergeant,” said Steigers.
“Let me try,” said Recker.
He placed his own hand on the access panel and felt a buzzing vibration through the material of his glove. No lights appeared and the door slid open with a whine. Beyond the opening, a short passage led to an inner door.
A feeling of strangeness took hold of Recker. While he’d always embraced the emptiness of space, abandoned places like this had an utterly different feeling about them. The ceaseless rain and the sense of loneliness combined to make this part of the adventure seem overwhelmingly strange.
Recker took a deep breath. “In,” he said.
Chapter Twenty-One
A second access panel controlled the inner door and Recker waited until Vance nodded to indicate the squad was ready. He readied his gun and activated the panel. The door opened as readily as the previous one and Recker stared into a space hardly lit by the wan light coming from outside. He saw shapes around the edges of what he guessed was a large room.
Vance didn’t require prompting. He switched on his helmet light and darted into the room, with the other members of the squad behind. Recker stayed by the door and within a few seconds it was clear the room held no direct threats.
He turned on his own head torch and entered. The dancing beams from the flashlights illuminated a fifteen-metre-square room, with alien consoles along the left and right walls. A flight of metal steps led up through the opposite wall, their destination unclear from Recker’s current position. Gantry and Drawl were already cautiously ascending and Vance ordered two other soldiers to provide cover from the bottom.
“The equipment looks powered off, sir,” said Vance.
“It’s in deep sleep, Sergeant. Or most of it is. The flight controller which brought us here must be in an always-on state.”
Recker approached one of the wall consoles at random since they all seemed identical or near enough. This blocky piece of tech was fitted with four screens, along with levers, switches and buttons, giving a sense of age that he’d noticed before on the tenixite converter. He knew instinctively how to turn the console on and he flicked the right switch first time.
“It’s powering up,” he said, turning his head to see if he’d missed anything obviously useful on the other consoles.
“Sergeant, you might want to come check this out,” said Gantry on the open comms.
Vance disappeared up the stairwell like a man who’d been told his house was on fire. A moment later, he suggested Recker might be interested in what lay at the top.
“On my way.”
Recker abandoned the console, dashed up the steps and emerged into a huge, unlit space which occupied much of the building’s interior. The flashlights weren’t nearly powerful enough to dispel the darkness and Recker spent a moment aiming the beam into the corners to find out what details he could.
The walls were clad in a black, nonreflective substance, with unevenly spaced consoles here and there. A fifteen-metre diameter cylinder made from the same material as the walls rose from the floor and connected with the ceiling way overhead. The cylinder’s base was ringed by another console and the panel lights indicated the hardware was powered up.
“This might be the place,” said Recker.
“What’s that cylinder, sir?” asked Gantry.
“It’s the transmission tower for the flight controller, Private. That’s what brought us in.”
“We need some more light,” said Vance, calling for another three soldiers to come up the stairs.
Recker didn’t pay attention and he stopped in front of the circular console. Each of the numerous top-mounted screens contained a prompt for input. He called up the control software, which he noted contained many similarities to that on the Vengeance and notable differences to that on the tenixite converter.
“Meklon station – Excon-18,” he read from the top banner. Recker was becoming increasingly certain that Meklon was how this alien species referred to either themselves or their civilisation.
He dug further into the menu, dimly aware of Sergeant Vance directing the squad to explore and secure the area. Recker believed there was a way to upgrade his security clearance for the Vengeance, though nothing jumped out at him. What he did find was extensive records of other warships which had come to this planet, including the Vengeance on at least eight previous occasions.
“Have you found what we came for, sir?” asked Vance.
“Not yet.” Recker swore under his breath. “What I would give to spend a day here without pressure, finding out what happened to the inhabitants of this planet.”
He located the security menu, where he found time-stamped records of communication between the Vengeance and Excon-18. The files were all ones and zeroes. Even so, Recker felt he was on the right track and his heart jumped when he located a menu titled Biometric Approval. Upon accessing the menu, he was presented with a single option.
> Terminator class warship: Vengeance. Request approval?
With a trembling finger, Recker touched the screen.
> Request submitted. Awaiting response.
With no idea where the request was submitted to and how long it would take to obtain a response, Recker called up the software on an adjacent screen, where he searched for clues as to how the process worked. He soon discovered that Excon-18 had sent an FTL comm to another facility, called Excon-1.
He beckoned Sergeant Vance across and explained the situation.
“Even an FTL comm might take days to reach its destination,” said Vance.
“It might. We don’t know what kind of lightspeed multiplier these Meklon can push their comms transmissions up to.”
The expression on Vance’s face indicated his thoughts on the matter and he went back to his slow-paced patrol around the transmission cylinder.
Although he wasn’t happy at the delay, Recker told himself to make best use of the time he’d been granted. After a few minutes, he discovered that the Excon-18 software maintained audit records of numerous incidents and Recker scrolled through them. Most of the events were assigned a specific code that likely meant something to a trained operator, but not so much to a passing member of the Human Planetary Alliance. Reluctant to miss an opportunity, Recker downloaded the files into his suit, hoping one of the analyst teams on Lustre would find a way to understand.
A new line of text appeared on the screen from which his security approval request had been sent and Recker snapped his head towards it.
> Transmission uncertainty threshold breached. Alert. Receptor failure. Receptor unknown. Excon-18 approval tier increased [temporary]. Update biometric security?
“Damn right!” said Recker, accepting the prompt.
> Biometric security updating. Re-writing data blocks: terminator class warship: Vengeance. Core override: software defence reconfiguration. Mesh deflector: updates in progress. Replicator: updates in progress.
A progress bar appeared and began its long journey from left to right on the screen. Recker’s heart thudded painfully and his breathing deepened.
“We’re on our way, Sergeant Vance,” he said.
Vance appeared at his side and leaned closer to the screen. “Replicator updates?”
“Interested in the new menu?”
“The Adamantine technicians put tape over the Vengeance’s original replicators, but someone in the squad pulled it off.” Vance contrived to look ignorant of the culprit and innocent at the same time. “A few of us have been experimenting with alien chow, sir.”
In spite of the situation, Recker couldn’t help but ask. “And?”
“The meat stew isn’t bad.” Vance straightened. “How long for these updates?”
“See that progress bar? That’s how long.”
“Hmm.”
“Shit,” he said.
Vance was there in an instant. “What’s wrong, sir?”
Recker pointed. “See this list of past transmissions?”
“The most recent ones say receptor failure,” said Vance, his brow furrowed.
“Those aren’t the ones I’m worried about – it’s these ones which say receptor unknown. The same message came up when I requested a biometric security update. I didn’t recognize the significance until now.”
Vance was one of those people who, when he didn’t know something, generally shied away from guesswork. “I don’t understand, sir.”
“These transmissions have been split between two receptors, Sergeant. An unknown receptor should not be one of them.”
“An interception?” said Vance, realization dawning. “I don’t know much about comms, sir, but isn’t it almost impossible to randomly intercept military transmissions?”
“The key word is randomly. With the right know-how and the right equipment, you might be able to do it.” Recker looked frantically around the room as the feeling of horror grew. “Or if you’d installed some additional hardware into an abandoned facility in order to duplicate every broadcast and use the antenna to send the copy to a place of your choice.”
Vance got onto the comms. “Listen up – the comms security in this facility might have been compromised. I want everyone to check for something which looks out of place – maybe a box wired into a place you wouldn’t expect.”
“Hell, Sergeant, that’s vague,” said Hendrix.
“I don’t care – get on it.”
“It won’t matter, Sergeant,” said Recker. “If there’s something listening in, we’re already too late.”
A glance told Recker that the progress bar was at 75% and increasing steadily.
“What’s the likely outcome, sir?” said Vance.
“Whoever the Meklon’s enemy were, they left a warship, or maybe several warships, nearby to monitor for returning vessels - outliers of the Meklon fleet coming back to base. They’ve picked up my request for a security update and now they’ll be on their way to investigate.”
“That means we’re in the shit.”
The progress bar inched up another two percent and Recker was reluctant to exit the building while it was ongoing. He recalled how his initial biometric imprinting on the Vengeance had taken place while he was on the warship’s bridge, a process which had seemingly only required his presence. Recker didn’t want to leave until he was certain his security tier was updated.
“We can’t leave,” he said. “Not until this is done.”
Vance opened his mouth, like he was about to offer an objection. In the end he just shrugged. “You know this better than I do, sir.” A smile appeared. “Watch that progress bar stick at 99%.”
“Don’t remind me, Sergeant,” said Recker. He opened a comms channel to the Vengeance and filled Aston in on the latest details, while pacing up and down in a fruitless effort to burn off some of his nervous energy.
“There’s nothing on our comms, sir. Did you analyse the FTL comm multiplier to obtain an estimate of the distance to this unknown receptor?”
“No, Commander - there are too many unknowns to make the exercise a useful one.”
“Okay - I just thought I’d mention it. Is there anything else we can make use of from that facility?”
“Given time we no longer have, I could build a picture of the military activity on this planet.”
“Any idea what caused the inhabitants to leave, sir?”
“I didn’t find anything,” Recker’s frustration was chewing at his insides. “Another missed opportunity.”
“Maybe we’ll find something in the Vengeance’s databanks once you return.”
It was a hope that Recker clung onto. “Once we’re away from here.”
He closed out of the channel and stopped pacing. The progress bar had sped to 98% and stalled, showing its final incomplete task.
> Replicator: updates in progress.
“I hope that meat stew was worth it, Sergeant.”
Recker had no idea why the replicator software was included in the overall update process and he couldn’t see any reason why he needed to stick around while it uploaded.
“Sergeant Vance, we’re leaving.”
Vance had already made preparations. Half of the squad were in the room below and the rest were gathered at the top of the steps.
“Soldiers – get your asses back to that warship,” barked Vance.
Recker deliberately slowed his first few strides in order that he could watch the progress bar. It hung at 98% and then the figure changed to 100%. As soon as he saw it happen, he sprinted hard for the steps and descended two at a time.
The rest of the squad were already out of the building, except for Vance who allowed Recker to exit before him.
“Any change on the bridge, Commander?” asked Recker on the comms, as he crashed through the broken branches and the teeming rain.
“Negative, sir - the flight controller’s still in charge,” said Aston.
The shelter of the Vengeance provided relief from the rain, but the branches made the going tough. Spears of wood jabbed into Recker’s legs and thighs, their efforts to pierce his skin defeated by the advanced polymers in his combat suit. Angrily, he brushed through leaves and twigs, and crushed smaller branches underfoot.
At last, he came to the ramp and he charged upwards, checking once over his shoulder to make sure Sergeant Vance was still with him.
Inside the airlock, Hendrix was waiting at the ramp activation switch, while the other soldiers had proceeded into the ship so that they wouldn’t crowd the space.
“Do it!” ordered Vance.
Recker didn’t stay around to watch the ramp closing and he continued his sprint, his breathing loud and his heart rate elevated.
“Any change?” he repeated on his comm channel to the bridge.
The same question got the same answer.
“Negative, sir.”
Aston went quiet for a second and this time when she spoke it was with the news Recker had feared.
“Lieutenant Eastwood has detected the presence of a ternium cloud, at fifty thousand klicks altitude and a quarter turn around the planet.”
With the arrival of a presumed hostile warship, Recker knew the success of the mission hung by a thread. Hoping his return to the bridge wouldn’t be too late, he ran.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Recker threw himself into his seat and immediately, he spotted several additional options on his command menu.
“Report!” he shouted, accessing the security menu in order to update the access level of the crew.
“A single ship, sir,” said Burner. “A big one. It arrived and is currently out of sensor sight.”
“Must be confident they can take out whatever turns up at Vitran,” said Eastwood.
“Let’s prove them wrong,” said Recker, his hands on the controls. “Is everyone’s security tier updated?”
“Yes, sir,” said Burner.
“Looks like,” added Eastwood. “We’ve got a switchable two-mode propulsion. I’ll check it out.”
“Whoa, plenty on my weapons panel now,” said Aston. “We’ve got missiles, interceptors, an energy weapon of some kind and a mesh deflector, whatever the hell that is.”
“How many in the magazines?”
“They’re almost full, sir. The Vengeance must have been brought down not long after it was rearmed.”
While he talked and listened, Recker fed power into the propulsion and brought the Vengeance away from the ground in a diagonal that would put maximum distance between it and the anticipated position of the recently arrived vessel. With a surge of acceleration, the warship leapt into the a
ir, the resonance from the engines sweeping the fallen trees in every direction.
“Red dot on your tactical, sir,” said Burner. “Shit, that’s coming fast.”
The first Recker saw of the enemy warship was an immense fireball streaking through the deep blue of the planet’s sky at the upper extremes of the atmosphere. Dark smoke trailed hundreds of kilometres behind the incoming spaceship and he thought briefly that it must be close to burning up.
“There’s an energy spike coming through their hull, sir,” said Eastwood, surprise in his voice. “That’s the first time our instrumentation has picked up this kind of information.”
Recker heard, but his hands were full. The last thing he wanted was to confront what he assumed was a highly capable hostile opponent while his officers were still learning about the Vengeance’s newly unlocked abilities. From the corner of his eye, he’d spotted another such ability, accessible only on the command console. It was called Fracture and a warning light indicated the existence of a system problem he had no time to investigate.
Keeping the Vengeance at a low altitude, Recker banked east on a diverging course from the enemy craft. He figured that the best way to avoid notice was to circle the planet and then run for space once the moment was right. As soon as Recker changed course, the approaching ship did likewise by turning sharply to follow.
“Looks like we’ve got a fight on our hands, folks.”
The Vengeance’s nose already burned hot and its own trail appeared on the rear sensors. On the ground beneath, the trees blurred into a green carpet as the warship raced for the horizon.
Several events happened at once and all Recker’s experience wasn’t enough for him to immediately separate the strands.
“The energy spike has dissipated from the enemy hull,” said Eastwood.
At that precise moment, the Vengeance became surrounded in a cage made from countless lines of blue energy, with no pattern to them, like random sword cuts made by sweeping blades. The instrumentation went crazy and Eastwood swore.
Recker got a sense that the ground itself had erupted. It happened too quickly for his eyes to follow and then the sensors went dark, while the propulsion gauge fell and the controls felt suddenly unresponsive, like a giant hand was holding onto the spaceship. Automatically, he increased power to compensate, while his brain fought for understanding. As he fought to maintain control, the bridge became filled with a thousand distant thumping sounds of impacts against the exterior plating.
Fractured Horizons (Savage Stars Book 2) Page 18