He checked on the transmission from Admiral Stone once again. It came as a single pulse with a sixty-second interval. The pulse carried no voice data and was simply a method by which Stone could be located. Conway lifted an arm and pointed deeper into the building.
“He’s over that way and down,” he said.
Without delaying further, Conway climbed across the sharp-edged inner wall of the structure. The room beyond was massive, with floor-to-ceiling control panels and computers. The lights had failed, but enough came from outside that Conway was able to make out the three exit doors. The power was gone as well and everything was offline.
The squad assembled inside and Lockhart, who’d taken charge of the basics, set people to watch the doors and the opening in the wall. Conway cast his eye over the kit in the room – he wasn’t an expert, but it looked different to what he’d seen on Reol. Newer, somehow. Many of the individual units were labelled and one such label caught his eye.
Transport Data Hub. 64 Zettabytes.
“Big storage,” said Freeman. “And lots more like it.”
“Give me sixty-four Raggerbytes and I’ll put a bullet in each of them,” said Kemp, driving his foot into the storage unit.
“What’s a transport data hub likely to contain?” asked Conway. He shouldn’t waste time, but he found himself becoming increasingly intrigued about what the Raggers used this building for.
“I don’t know,” said Freeman. “It could be comms, I guess, but the kit we found on Reol didn’t use the word transport.”
“We lost the data extractor when our spaceship got torn in two,” said Conway. “Maybe we could have found somewhere to plug it in.”
“You don’t win wars on maybes, sir,” said Kemp.
“You’re a philosophical bastard today, aren’t you?” asked Lockhart without rancor.
“Everyone underestimates me, sir.”
Conway walked away from the transport data hub and approached the closest exit. The door was high enough for a Ragger to pass easily and wide enough for two Fangrin. To Conway’s relief, the access panel had a light on it, though it was red to indicate a security lock was in place.
“Which of you Fangrin can open this up?”
Rembra came over, with his six-barrel chain gun cradled in the crook of one arm. The motor and ammunition housing looked as if it weighed sixty pounds and Conway was glad he wasn’t the one carrying the weapon.
“I will try,” said the alien.
The platoon was ready and Conway indicated that Rembra should proceed. The Fangrin stepped towards the access panel and planted a gloved palm on it. Nothing happened for a couple of seconds and Conway held his breath. Another few seconds went by and the light turned green. Conway blew out.
“The door will open at the next activation of this panel,” said Rembra. “We should be prepared.”
“Do it,” said Conway, standing to the side of the door.
The Fangrin activated the panel for a second time and the door slid open. Conway glanced into another, far larger room with a much higher ceiling. This one was filled with even more tech and the power was on. Huge, square consoles of varying heights were arrayed haphazardly around the floor. The lower half of the walls were completely hidden by massive grey cabinets. A multitude of green and red lights flashed across the surfaces of these cabinets and thousands of thick cables ran from the units up conduits in the walls until they disappeared through the ceiling in many different places.
It was hot and Conway could hear the HVAC ducts thrumming. A red light in the ceiling cycled from dark to light, letting him know that the Raggers were on alert. Not that they could have failed to notice their entire planet being hit by nukes.
“No movement,” said Gundro, looking in from the opposite side of the doorway.
“Wait,” Conway warned. “Can’t see the whole floorspace.”
In fact, the tech gear blocked much of the room from sight. It was the sort of place that would be teeming with operatives at any other time, and Conway’s experience suggested the Raggers were slow to respond to evacuation orders.
Ten long seconds went by and the room remained still. The soldiers in the room shifted like they wanted to get on with things.
“Sir, a Ragger vehicle just pulled up outside,” said Private Berg, one of the soldiers assigned to watch the road. His suit was still coated in Private Lundbauer’s blood, which had turned a muddy brown. “Looks like a troop carrier – a big one.”
“Tenzal, give them something to think about,” said Conway, backing away from the door. It closed automatically, but the panel light stayed green.
“I will greet them in the Fangrin way,” said Tenzal, advancing across the room with his launcher.
Conway hurried across towards the opening as well, giving orders as he went. Most of the soldiers guarded ingress points and the rest were spread to avoid being taken out by an explosive weapon. Tenzal stood brazenly in sight, with the launcher up on his shoulder.
He fired just as Conway caught sight of the transport. The vehicle was big like Berg had said – enough to carry fifty or sixty troops - and stationary about eighty meters away. The transport’s gate fell open a second before the rocket struck dead-center. A fireball engulfed the vehicle and Tenzal lowered the rocket tube with a growl which Conway took to indicate satisfaction.
The transport blazed and the soldiers watched in case any Raggers made it out. What appeared was a bizarre sight. Parts of the flames seemed to break off from the rear of the vehicle and moved rapidly away. To Conway’s eyes, it looked as if several elongated, eight-foot candle flames darted about the plaza.
He knew what these were – stealth-suited Raggers set on fire by the rocket blast. Conway put bullets into one. Barron and Kemp caught on fast and they fired individual shots into each target. The enemy soldiers were unable to give effective return fire and they fell to the ground. As the flames destroyed the material of their suits, the Raggers became visible and one or two thrashed on the ground until more bullets put them out of their misery.
“I thought I’d seen everything,” said Kemp, watching carefully to see if any more Raggers would come.
The transport burned out and the soldiers it carried burned likewise. No others appeared and Conway eventually conceded this threat was done. One aspect of the brief engagement certainly wasn’t lost on him.
“The enemy have mobilized real troops this time.”
“I was getting sick of shooting their unskilled operators,” said Kemp. “Well, maybe not so sick.”
Conway’s earpiece came to life and Captain Britton spoke at once.
“Just to let you know, Lieutenant. We saw a whole bunch of transports – ten in all - heading towards that building you’re in. It may be they’re going elsewhere, but be on your guard.”
“They’re not going elsewhere, sir,” said Conway. “Thanks for the warning.”
The channel went dead and he advised the platoon what was coming their way.
“Maybe we could wait here and blow the crap out of them as they arrive,” said Torres. “I don’t much like the idea of trying to rescue someone so important as a genuine Fleet Admiral when I’m watching out for invisible spiders on my six.”
It wasn’t Conway’s idea of control either. The problem was, the Fangrin launchers didn’t recharge nearly fast enough to take out ten armored transports before the Raggers could unload. On the other hand, he didn’t want to run into them on the way out. The platoon needed air support. He searched for a warship receptor and got what he expected - nothing.
“No air support,” he said.
“A soldier who expects air support, is as stupid as a [Translation Unclear],” said Rinzol.
“Maybe us humans and you dogs aren’t so different after all,” said Kemp. “Even if one of you did shoot my dad.”
“I’m sure he died bravely, human.”
“Yeah, that’s what they told me,” said Kemp, sounding like he’d just had some kind of epiphany.
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“Less talk,” said Conway, finding himself strangely reluctant to cut off the conversation. “We’ll hold here and see if we can cut those enemy reinforcements down to size.”
“The angle is good,” said Gundro. “Assuming the Raggers approach from the front of this building, I will be able to hit them.”
“Those tubes only hold four shots, right?” asked Conway.
“That is correct. It is unlikely we will have enough time to empty their magazines.”
“Private Lester, you might want to think about where to put some proximity-detonating charges.”
“Yes, sir. I can place those outside.”
“Do it and don’t take long.”
Lester vaulted onto the inner wall and hurried outside. Meanwhile, Conway asked Lieutenants Ashby and Sawyer to figure out the best position for the troops, while he did some thinking. Colonel Thornton and the other troops were approximately 3500 meters from this position. The Ragger transports would probably be travelling flat out, which meant they’d be here in less than five minutes.
He cast his eye over the soldiers. The platoon was down to thirty-eight including Conway. It wasn’t enough, but it was more than was required to defend this single room. Not every soldier would have a clear shot onto the plaza. By Conway’s estimation, ten were spare. He made a snap decision, which was also a risky one.
“Freeman, Kemp, Torres, Barron, Lockhart, Brice, Rembra, Nixil, Hacher! You’re coming with me – we’re getting a head start in the search for those prisoners. The rest of you, hold this room for as long as you can and then fall back as required. Kill those Ragger bastards and our respective armed forces will reward you handsomely with increased responsibilities and an even greater chance of death in future engagements.”
“Gee thanks, sir,” said Warner.
“Just telling it like it is, soldier,” said Conway with a broad grin. “I hope you remember how to use that stealth zapper.”
“Turn up the dial and press the button, sir.”
“Glad you were paying attention during training.”
The selected men and women gathered near the door and Torres wondered aloud if she was blessed or cursed. In those few moments, Conway passed on ideas and instructions to Ashby and Sawyer. They were here on Qali-5 because they knew what they were doing and they took it in their stride, neither offering an opinion on the hand they’d been dealt.
Conway wished everyone luck and ordered Rembra to get the door open. He half-expected someone to announce the arrival of the Ragger transports. They didn’t and Conway exited the room with his squad.
Chapter Thirteen
The room beyond the door was still an unknown quantity. Having committed to fast action, Conway and his squad advanced rapidly through it. He wasn’t at all surprised to discover that the Fangrin knew how to act in situations like this and they did exactly as he wanted without having to be managed.
As he worked his way from console to console, keeping watch in every direction, Conway made sure his mind stayed focused. He was desperate to pause in order to check out the text on the numerous displays to find out what the Raggers had built here. It wasn’t worth the risk and besides, the opportunity might come later.
The control room was empty of Raggers and the squad identified several exits. In the absence of a better method, Conway chose the one which aligned closest to the direction of the signal from Fleet Admiral Stone. At this door, he stopped and checked in with the officers he’d left guarding the wall.
“Any sign of those transports?” he asked.
“No, sir.”
“Keep me updated.”
“Will do.”
Conway pointed at the door and Nixil stepped up with his hand outstretched. The red light on the panel went green and the Fangrin waited for confirmation that he should open the door.
“Do it.”
Outside: a corridor. The alarm light was still cycling, though it had no accompanying sound. The corridor went left and right, neither way heading towards Admiral Stone’s signal. Conway gritted his teeth in irritation and chose to go right.
The passage was wide enough for several Raggers to walk side-by-side and Conway was beginning to wonder where the enemy were hiding. A short distance along, the passage went left and again there was no sign of the enemy.
“Maybe this is a no-go part of the building,” said Freeman. “The data storage and processing areas in our own comms hubs don’t need personnel inside – everything works unattended until maintenance shutdown.”
“Hmm,” said Conway, wanting to believe something.
The new passage ended at a door. Conway’s suit computer was dutifully counting his footsteps, but it didn’t have enough data to create a map of the interior. The glimpse he’d been offered through opening made by the crashing spaceship was enough to convince him that the center of the building was open and housed something important.
They advanced towards the door. A metal plate was bolted to the surface, with a single word stamped on it.
“Transport,” read Conway. “Well shit,” he grumbled sourly. “Someone open it.”
The squad retreated a little way and Nixil did the honors. The door opened and on the far side, an open space with a high ceiling and plenty of alien tech. On the far wall, a long window offered a view into another place. Conway watched cautiously for movement – the room contained many consoles, but they weren’t bulky enough to offer great cover unless the enemy were taking care to stay hidden. If any Raggers were inside, they were keeping their heads down.
“Looks offline,” said Freeman, leaning over to see inside.
“Maybe some parts of the building lost power,” suggested Barron.
“The last room worked fine.”
“Yeah. That’s why I said some parts.”
Another few moments was enough and Conway slipped into the room. He sprinted for the nearest console and dropped behind it, waiting for the sound of enemy gunfire. None came, though he could hear a faint buzzing and humming from deep within the console. He pressed his hand to the cool surface and felt nothing.
“No sign of the Raggers, sir,” said Lockhart.
They swept the room. Once Conway became sure it was empty, he rose up and ran to the viewing window. He looked through into what was the central space within the structure, and it was as enormous as he expected.
The area on the far side of the window was illuminated with the same red light as elsewhere. It was sufficient for Conway to see the outline of a massive…something. He didn’t know what the hell it was. The Raggers had put together a structure consisting of a thick central cylinder – maybe a hundred meters in diameter and much taller, surrounded by eight or more shorter, narrower cylinders. The cylinders were etched in the finest, most elaborate pattern of pale blue lines that hinted at meaning, while confounding the eye to discover it. These lines appeared to glow, while at the same time casting no light into the room.
Every outer pillar was linked to the central one by thick, silvery cables high above the ground. At floor level, Conway spotted numerous consoles which he guessed were tied in to whatever it was the Raggers had built.
“Anyone want to speculate?” he asked.
The human members of his squad didn’t say anything about the construction. The Fangrin, however, seemed particularly interested in what the Raggers had been up to. Conway waited to find out if they’d offer a suggestion.
“I don’t know,” said Rembra after long moments.
“You seem to have a better idea than we do,” said Conway. “Have you come across similar before?”
“The Raggers are always pushing, human - it’s what makes them so dangerous. They experiment and they test, with no care for the outcome.”
“Throw stuff at the wall and see what sticks, huh?” asked Barron.
“Something like that.”
“Well, everything here is going to get blown to crap as soon as we rescue our personnel,” said Conway, feeling uneasy.
&nb
sp; “This console has power,” said Freeman, poking at buttons nearby. Dim lights came on in sections across the operator panel.
“Anything we’re interested in?”
“I don’t know, sir. It’s booting.”
“Keep watching, while we check the doors,” said Conway. He oriented himself with the direction of Admiral Stone’s transmission. As he’d expected – the most direct route was across the central space. He’d need to look for a way down soon, but there weren’t any stairs or lifts in this room.
“Nixil – the door.”
“Yes.”
The room had a single exit in each wall and the one leading into the central room was near to the viewing window. The Fangrin thumped the access panel, waited and did it again.
“Lockdown,” he said.
Conway swore. “Try that door over there,” he said, pointing east.
Rembra was closer and he tested the access panel. “Our codes are not working.”
“Is that going to affect just this room or everywhere?”
“I believe this area of the building is on a higher-level security system. Perhaps individual to this facility.”
“I’m not in the mood to backtrack,” said Conway.
“We need Lester.”
Conway knew it and he was already on the comms. Sixty seconds later, Lester arrived, his pack looking much lighter than it had earlier.
“Got the road covered, Private?”
“Well and truly, sir.”
“Good – now why don’t you take a look at that door over there?”
“Yes, sir.”
Lester ran over, his diminished pack of explosive charges bouncing with each stride. He shrugged himself out of the straps and thudded his knuckles against the door.
“Pretty thick,” he said. “Got a sign on it saying Danger - No Entry.”
“Everywhere is dangerous. Can you blow a hole in it?”
“Yes, sir. It won’t be pretty.”
“I don’t care about pretty.”
Death Skies (Fire and Rust Book 4) Page 10