Scum of the Universe (Fire and Rust Book 7)

by Anthony James

  During those three hours, he also sent a team to sweep Z020 for signs of the exchange team. The single railgun shot fired at the start of the battle had punched a hole through the teleport ship’s armor and mangled its innards, while leaving the attached shuttle miraculously undamaged.

  Having entered through the breach, the search teams found and killed thirty Raggers who’d survived the impact, and soon confirmed the exchange team was gone. There hadn’t been much doubt, but enough that the uncertainty needed to be eliminated.

  “Pass on the order,” said Stone at last. “We’re making a synchronized departure for Earth.”

  “Sir, you might want to hold that order,” said Lieutenant Dowd, his voice catching. “We’ve had an inbound comms from New Destiny. The Raggers showed up with another fleet – a real big one.”

  Stone was over by the comms station so fast he didn’t even have time to recognize that his old aches and pains were completely absent.

  “What’s happened?”

  “They’ve shot down the fleet we left in place to guard the planet, sir. Apparently, they have demands, but haven’t told us what they are yet.”

  “Change the order!” bellowed Stone. “We’re going to New Destiny!”

  While arrangements were made for departure, Stone fell into his chair, suddenly drained of energy. A hand fell gently, comfortingly on his shoulder. He looked up to see Dr Austin, her face pale. Stone summoned up what he hoped was a smile and she returned it.

  A few minutes later, the Defiant and the rest of the fleet entered lightspeed. What he would find at his destination, Stone didn’t know. What he could do about it, he didn’t know either. So, he threw himself into the jaws of his future and hoped that somehow, he could save the people on New Destiny.

  Chapter Nineteen

  It was becoming increasingly crowded in the Ragger replication facility and Conway swore loudly when he spotted four more lifts descending at the same time. He led his squad in a sprint for the next door along the inner perimeter. Behind each of the previous two they had discovered the same – a short corridor leading to an inner room filled with naked, unarmed Raggers. Fortunately, the enemy hadn’t reacted when the doors opened in front of them, but Conway didn’t want to push his luck.

  “How many of these doors are we planning to try, sir?” asked Corporal Barron.

  “Is that a recommendation we head through this next door regardless, Corporal?”

  “Didn’t mean to sound so obvious, sir.”

  Conway made his mind up and slowed to a halt in front of the panel. “This is the one,” he said. His suit interfaced and he held his breath as he waited to see what fate had in store.

  “Gee,” said Kemp. “Corridor. Raggers. Are you sure this is the one, Captain?”

  “We’re going this way. I’ll shoot the first person that makes a sound. Is that clear?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer and hurried into the corridor. Twenty meters ahead, rows of Raggers waited, their huge black eyes watching him. Or so Conway imagined it.

  “If we make it across this next room, I’m going to personally apologize to those brainiacs on the Defiant for threatening to steal their propeller hats,” said Berg.

  Conway waved impatiently for silence. He crept towards the corridor’s end, with each careful pace revealing more about the trouble he was heading into. The Raggers didn’t move much – occasionally one of them twitched or blinked or shifted weight from one foot to the other. Other than that, they stared.

  The room itself was thirty meters wide and about the same deep, with metal-clad walls, floor and ceiling. From his position, Conway was unable to determine how many Raggers were here in total and he ventured another few steps.

  When he was five meters from the room, Conway spotted movement up by the high ceiling. A couple of head-sized drones scooted from place to place. On a whim, Conway adjusted the sensor on his visor, which allowed him to see a beam of invisible energy connect the drones with the heads of the aliens below.

  “Some kind of scanner,” he said. “Coming from the drones.”

  “They are hunting for the presence of a certain genetic abnormality,” suggested Lieutenant Rembra. “Perhaps those ones are chosen first.”

  As if to prove his words, one of the drones hovered for several seconds over a Ragger that looked the same as all the others. Then, without apparent communication, this Ragger stepped from the line and headed left out of Conway’s viewing arc. The drone paused over the adjacent Ragger and this one also stepped out of the line. Then went a third and a fourth. The second drone must have got excited at these back-to-back discoveries and it came over and began scanning nearby.

  “Must’ve hit a rich vein of Kemplike abnormalities,” said Warner. “Come to think of it, they even look a bit like Kemp.”

  “One more word and you’ll find out how much protection a ULG combat suit offers against a kick in the balls,” said Lockhart. “Now shut the hell up!”

  “Keep it for the downtime,” Conway warned, finding himself running low on patience.

  “Ah crap, sorry sir,” said Warner, realizing how badly he’d screwed up.

  Conway finished his approach. He stopped at the entrance and looked both ways. The front row was fifteen Raggers wide and the nearest wasn’t more than five meters from him. Left, he spotted the frame of a door over the heads of the aliens. To the right: only Raggers.

  “Any sign they know you’re there, sir?” asked Berg nervously.

  “Doesn’t seem like it. Maybe these ones are good actors.”

  There was nothing for it – the path to the only visible exit meant walking in front of the Raggers and then hacking the door open right next to them. On the bright side, none of the aliens carried weapons, so the Fangrin chain guns could likely cut down every hostile alien in this room in less than twenty seconds.

  “What about the drones?” asked Lockhart. “Think they’ve got sensors that can see through the webbing?”

  “We’ll soon find out.”

  Conway gave brief orders and set off into the room, keeping his gun trained on the enemy. The drones identified two more candidates to head out and face the Sekar, and these Raggers hurried towards the side door in their repulsively jerky strides. This time, Conway was near enough to see it open and close.

  With great care and doing his utmost to be silent, Conway made his way along the wall. This was one of the most bizarre situations he could remember and he was gripped by the feeling that at any moment, every one of the Raggers would lift their arms and point at him. It was impossible for seventeen armed soldiers to remain silent and each quiet scrape or badly judged footstep convinced him that they were living on borrowed time.

  “This is like one of those dreams where I forgot to put my pants on,” whispered Berg. “And I find myself in a crowded place with no way to get home.”

  Conway thought about telling the soldier to be quiet but recognized the borderline fear in the man’s voice. Berg had been through as much as any of them – if something had got him scared, it must be a real deep-down fear.

  “Steady. The worst that can happen is we’re obliged to cut these assholes to pieces.”

  “And you’ve definitely got your pants on, Cal.”

  When it finally happened, Conway reflected it was probably a miracle that the Raggers had taken so long to notice. First one alien turned from the straight-ahead and looked at the wall along which the soldiers crept. Another did likewise. Then it was like the whole room was staring towards the squad. Meanwhile, the drones flew from Ragger to Ragger, seemingly without alarm.

  “Uh, sir.”

  “I know.”

  “What do we do?”

  “Take out the drones, then the room.”

  Conway put a couple of bullets into the closest drone. His gun’s silencer meant the shots came out more like a softened thump. It also reduced the velocity of the bullets, but not so much that it mattered at such short range. The drone veered as it was struck by C
onway’s shots and then a dozen more bullets smashed through its thin outer shell. The second drone suffered similar punishment and it fell straight down on top of one of the Raggers.

  With the drones out of action, Conway changed aim. The Raggers hadn’t moved and he wasn’t about to give them the chance. He fired, his Gilner on automatic, and his squad did likewise. Bullets tore through the Raggers, carrying enough velocity to punch through the front row and into the rows behind. The thump-thump-thump of the Gilners hardly seemed like the sound of death, yet the Raggers toppled over in their dozens, with gaping wounds and blood spraying.

  Until this moment, Conway had never heard a silenced Fangrin chain gun. He had no idea how the tremendous roar of the weapons could ever be significantly reduced, but somehow the dog scientists had managed it.

  Lieutenant Rembra’s gun spun up with a noticeable delay and then it fired, unleashing tharniol-coated death on the enemy. Next to him, Gundro and Lieutenant Atomar took a step forward, their own guns firing.

  At such close quarters, the results were sickeningly effective. Bloody chunks flew from the bodies of the slaughtered, filling the air with pale flesh and crimson. The first few rows of Raggers went down and still the squad fired. Conway’s magazine ran dry and he swapped in a full one, his brain unable to comprehend the extent of the carnage.

  Halfway through Conway’s third magazine, it was over. Every Ragger was dead and the gunfire stopped. A smell – sickly and sweet, yet also metallic, came in through the filter in Conway’s helmet. It was a scent he was all too familiar with.

  Feeling numb, he slotted in a fourth mag and let the half-empty third fall into the bag at his waist. Next to him, Lieutenant Rembra swapped the magazine on his chain gun, the action producing a sharp clack of metal.

  Nobody said anything and Conway didn’t want to wait here a moment longer. Without speaking, he waved the squad to the side door. It had no signs on it. No indication where it went. Ten seconds later it was open and Conway stared through the opening.

  “Steps,” he said, stating the obvious. These steps descended twenty meters or so, where they ended at a partially obscured landing, from which further steps went right and down. Conway suspected that other steps joined the same landing, coming from another of these scanning rooms nearby.

  A dense pressure, reminiscent of Ragger meddling with things that should be left well alone, beat upon the squad and Conway groaned inwardly at the thought of what the aliens were doing here. A sign on the far side of the door – why it was on the far side of the door, Conway neither knew nor cared – said Armories and Control.

  “Anything coming up is going to be carrying a gun,” he said.

  “And there’s likely to be a bunch of them, Captain,” said Barron. “These stairs aren’t a good place.”

  That was the moment when the pressure in the air increased, changing from a background irritation to something distinctly uncomfortable. Conway’s head began to pound at once.

  “Teleporter activation,” he grunted.

  It was the same as he remembered from Qali-5, though maybe not quite so brutal – like the Raggers had been working on the design. The pressure abruptly faded though the pain took a few seconds to longer to go.

  “Done,” he spat. “I wonder who arrived or left.”

  “I’m just glad we didn’t get dropped onto a pile of Raggers like last time,” said Kemp, diplomatically failing to mention how his hand also ended up on Torres’ ass.

  Anything out of the ordinary was a worry for Conway and he tried to convince himself that this was likely the normal day-to-day activity of a facility like this one. Keen to make progress, he tapped Barron on the arm and signaled for her to follow.

  “Wait here,” he said to the others. “Anything comes from the central room, shoot it. Quietly.”

  With fast, silent steps, Conway descended, with Barron two steps behind and on the opposite side of the stairwell. Halfway down, he stopped in alarm at the sound of approaching Raggers. A pair of the aliens stepped onto the landing below from an unseen entrance and then descended the visible steps.

  At the landing, Conway discovered his earlier guess was correct – another set of steps came from a place above – a place doubtless containing Raggers and scanner drones. He peered down the steps going right. They descended about thirty meters and, when he was halfway to the bottom, Conway realized the corridor below didn’t only go left and right, but a third passage led directly away. He muttered curses under his breath.

  “Another Ragger iceberg,” he said in disgust.

  “Does your wife know you’re this cynical, sir?”

  “I’m usually all smiles.”

  “Are we taking a look?”

  “Yes.”

  A few seconds later, Conway was at the bottom. His hopes of gaining an indication of where to go next were fulfilled – the left and passages were signed Armories and he spotted a bunch of Raggers each way, some heading in his direction. Directly in front was a passage leading to Teleport Control, and this one split left and right a short distance ahead.

  “Why’d they need a teleporter here?” wondered Barron.

  “Must be they plan to link everything together, Corporal. Instant travel to anywhere in Ragger territory.”

  “They’re two hundred years ahead of us in crap like this.”

  “Yeah.”

  The sound of footsteps from behind made Conway turn and he watched three Raggers begin their descent. Luckily, they kept to one side and went past the two soldiers without so much as a glance.

  “Advance to my position,” said Conway on the comms. “We’ve got a teleport control area up ahead. Do you like the sound of that Corporal Freeman?”

  “I like it plenty, sir. Should be lots of places to plug in this extractor.”

  No sooner had Freeman stopped talking than Lieutenant Kenyon from the Raider opened a channel. “Your signal’s getting weak, Captain,” he started, before continuing with the juicy stuff. “We detected the presence of an enemy vessel above the deployment area. We don’t know what it was or how many others are with it, but there’s a chance you’re about to see an increase in enemy activity.”

  “Just what we need.” Conway didn’t mention the room full of dead bodies, which were equally likely to generate an increase in enemy activity.

  “How close are you to achieving the mission goal?”

  “We’re entering the teleport control section. Corporal Freeman thinks we’ve got as good a chance here as anyplace else.”

  “Don’t stick around.”

  The channel went dead and the first members of the squad appeared on the landing above. It was Lieutenant Atomar and the Fangrin descended rapidly, followed by the others.

  Suddenly, the red lighting on the stairs and in the corridor began pulsating like a diseased heart. The change in the illumination wasn’t accompanied by an audible alarm, but the meaning was clear enough.

  Before Conway was able to assess the events of the last few seconds, he caught a sense of movement in his periphery. When he focused his eyes along the corridor, he saw nothing, though his helmet microphone picked up quiet footfall and the faintest of rustlings.

  “Stealth soldier!” he said on the comms. “Get ready!”

  Something brushed featherlight past his arm, travelling at speed. Conway turned his head to follow and spotted the telltale imperfection of a stealth suit Ragger going past. The creature hesitated like it realized something was wrong, without knowing exactly what it was.

  Conway gritted his teeth and lifted his gun.

  Chapter Twenty

  An hour after the fleet’s departure from the Indul-L9 system, Fleet Admiral Stone was fully aware of how frustrating this near-two-day journey would be for him. He felt such a clenching fury that Dr Austin became alarmed at his readings and offered him a selection of tablets. He waved them away.

  “I’m as fit as a damned ox, Doctor. And I’ve got Private Kemp – amongst other people – to thank for it.�
�

  Following the words, Dr Austin returned to her seat, though her vigilance concerning his health didn’t decrease.

  One of the many reasons for Stone’s fury was the goading message left by Riviss-Uld-95 during the moments leading up to the Great Betrayal. The words burned into him and he sensed they were gaining a power over him that might lead him to act irrationally. Stone listened to the recording again, like an ancient king taking small doses of poison to prepare his body for larger doses slipped into his mead by would-be assassins.

  “You have lost, human,” whispered Riviss-Uld-95. “And I am the victor. How does it feel, knowing that whatever happens between our two fleets, your people will become cattle? The same fate awaits your Fangrin friends.” The Ragger laughed softly. “You thought your precious technology would be enough.”

  That was it – a few pointless words sent to piss him off. The tactic had worked – Stone couldn’t deny the fact, and now felt obliged to straighten out his head in order that he could put things right. Assuming it was possible to put things right.

  The second of the many reasons behind his anger was the discovery by one of the carrier’s computer maintenance teams that the Raggers had plugged in a device that used seeking algorithms to hunt down any data on propulsion systems. The enemy had pulled out thousands of files and it would take perhaps weeks to discover the full extent of the theft.

  If there was a positive, it was that the ULAF didn’t yet know how to make a working version of a vantrium drive, though there was enough to give the Raggers a start if they’d managed to extract the right files.

  A bump of turbulence reminded him of his duty to exit lightspeed at least once during the fleet’s return to New Destiny, in case the multitude of tharniol detonations near to planet Indul-975D had opened a Sekar rift. The interruption in the return journey was scheduled to take place at the exact halfway point.

  “Lieutenant Dowd – you’re certain we’ll pick up the return message from the ULS Juniper?”