Hell's Razer

by S. F. Edwards

  The Wolfsbane was free of the station and the reverse thruster arrays in the center front of the twin outboard engine nacelles pulsed. The great ship backed away at little more than walking pace. Once clear of the pointed construction outriggers a glow appeared beneath the ship. It rose above the plane of the station. The glow of the maneuvering thrusters cut out and the ship drifted up past the massive towers. Almost none of the team noticed as three more heavily ribbed, wedged shaped ships, Cenobite Class Destroyers, undocked as well. The ship killers were the Wolfsbane’s primary escorts.

  Even Blazer felt in awe as the Wolfsbane’s main engines pulsed to life and the ship pressed ahead in a slow burn over the station. He felt as if there was a certain theatricality to the departure. The ship could accelerate far faster than it was demonstrating. But her admiral and captain wanted the station’s residents to get a good look as the remaining escorts, three frigates and a dozen corvettes, took formation around the proud ship.

  Were this station not equipped with artificial gravity, powered by the massive hyperspace bubble at its core, they would have rotated away from the ship long before now. Instead they were as close to the ship as Blazer ever wanted to get. The distinctive shape of the carrier could almost have been mistaken for a high-speed interceptor as it eclipsed the local star, its central hull jutting forward twice as far as the flanking hangars at the rear of the ship. Outboard of those the powerful engine nacelles pressed the ship ahead. He had to admit it was a beautiful and awe-inspiring sight to behold, especially with its forward mandibles.

  In moments it was over. The taskforce cleared the station and slipstreamed away towards a jump point on the edge of the system. The awe and wonder of the team dissipated in moments as they made their way back to the table and the food laid out upon it.

  Gavit took a long swig from his mug of ale and raised it to the departed ships. Like Zithe, he longed to serve aboard the carrier, but not for the same reason as his Lycan comrade. He had no desire to command it. To take off from the same decks as his uncle had would be the greatest honor, even if he’d died protecting the ship. “Goodbye old friend. May we cross paths again.”

  Zithe picked up his glass of wine and clinked it to Gavit’s mug. “That we will, my friend, and they will welcome us as conquering heroes!”

  Blazer couldn’t help but shake his head. Chrisvian laughed at the scene. “This isn’t the end of the universe,” he found himself saying.

  Everyone looked at him. For some, it appeared that it was. Finding himself in the spotlight, he continued. “I know that the Wolfsbane is a dream assignment for many of you. But need I remind you that they are heading straight towards the front? We came off of the greatest Sheol that’s hit the Confederation in centuries last annura. We earned and deserve this assignment. This isn’t the end. Yes, it’s been quiet here of late. It’s been quiet across all fronts, but Cathedral-based rescue teams always get beautifully ripe mission assignments. We’ll prove ourselves here and in no time, we’ll have every carrier in the fleet clamoring for us. We’ll have our pick of assignments.”

  The look on Marda’s face spoke volumes about her displeasure in that idea, but also understanding of why he’d said it. “Blazer’s right,” she said, shifting Chrisvian around so that he would quit reaching for Bichard’s antennae. “We’ve got what, three annura here max, before we transfer? We’ll get missions soon, and before you know it, our time here will be finished.”

  A commotion below drew everyone’s eyes to the staircase. “Sir, you can’t…” The words caught in the hostess’ throat and a moment later a familiar skull-faced helmet appeared.

  Tadeh Qudas strode up the stairs and looked over the team. His cold impassive skull-face and his body language revealed nothing, as usual. “We’ve just received a distress call. Briefing room seventeen in twenty pulses.”

  “Why didn’t you just link that to us via the micomm?” Gokhead asked, the fur over his implant that now housed the Synthetic Sentient Que Dee all but regrown.

  Tadeh Qudas didn’t even look at Gokhead and focussed on Blazer, his voice just above absolute zero. “Team Leader.”

  “You heard him,” Blazer called out, jumping to his feet. “Let’s move.”

  He’d rather face down a whole Galactic Federation fleet than an upset Tadeh Qudas.

  Briefing Room 17

  It took no time at all for the squad to rush down to the briefing room. Marda felt all eyes jump to her as she arrived, stopping to drop off Chrisvian with the childcare center along the way. Numerous holograms covered the walls. Everyone stood examining a separate projection and she made her way over to Blazer. He didn’t so much jump when she tapped him on the shoulder but slowly turned to face her. She suppressed a sigh at his ‘game face’ as he faced her. He’d already shifted into mission mode. “Catch me up.”

  “We’ve got a lost soul,” he replied and another hologram popped up. This one revealed a rather nondescript transatmospheric transport, the type she’d seen hundreds, if not thousands, of throughout the Confederation. “A private ship registered with a company called Total Productions sent out a distress call while in hyperspace. Their shields were failing and so they made an emergency drop into the nearest system.”

  “Where are they?” Marda asked, examining the image. She couldn’t see much at first glance that indicated where they’d entered into normal space.

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out,” he replied motioning around the room. “The jump buoy they exited through isn’t Confed. They included the jump code, but it’s not in any database.”

  “Geffer?”

  “Most likely based on the code format,” Matt commented as he examined a starfield. “Intel is going over the imagery as well, but the image they sent of the bouy isn’t of any standard Geffer type I’m familiar with,” he continued, motioning towards Bichard.

  Bichard traced the outline of the buoy onto the projection in front of him. “It’s an old one,” he explained in his hum-click voice. “Possibly pre-Confed but built to last. Might be an old Pharad type. But we have minimal data regarding their pre-Confed buoy designs.”

  Marda didn’t like the sound of that. There were far too many unknowns for her taste already. “So, we have less than no idea what we’ll be flying into?”

  Blazer gazed at her with a raised eyebrow. “We? Does that mean you’ll be joining us?”

  Marda paused. It wasn’t that the question had taken her aback. It was that she hadn’t even realized that she’d just volunteered. She wasn’t on the active roster anymore. By all rights Blazer could pull almost anyone off the Explosions to go with them to fill her vacancy. They didn’t need another field medic on the team with Priest and Hallet. While they weren’t doctors, they could patch up and stabilize any injuries sustained in the field. “Yes.” She almost didn’t believe that she’d said it.

  “Good,” Blazer replied and turned back to the asteroid field on the projection before him.

  “These images are terrible,” Gokhead remarked. “We can barely perform the necessary spectral analysis on the stars to identify them - the color gradients are all mixed up and wrong.”

  Matt shook his head. “I’ve got some familiar constellations here though. If I’m right then we’re looking at someplace on the inner edge of the Consign Spur.” He pointed to two small constellations that Marda recognized inside a cluster of other stars.

  Gokhead nodded at the assessment and brought up a map of the galaxy focused on their region of space. “Based on star density and those constellations, we’re looking at a system in this general area,” he explained. A section of space a quarter of the way up the Consign Spur from where it broke away from the Atria Stria Spiral lit up.

  A series of stars brightened on Chris’ display. “Intel has positive spectral idents on six stars from this image. Triangulation in progress.” Marda looked, it was probably the clearest and highest resolution image of the lot.

  Matt pored over the analysis, while the loca
tion sphere on the main display shrank down to a small cluster of systems. “Priest, Hallet, were you able to make anything of those gravitational charts?”

  Priest thumbed his knotted braid in thought. “It’s a dirty read but we have a rough planet count. There are also a number of asteroid belts. I’d be surprised if any pf the planets could support complex life.”

  Hallet shook her great saurian head. “Spectrals are in on the fourth planet. There’s a marginally breathable atmosphere according to this and trace amounts of water. Based on the garbage in the atmosphere I’d say it’s taken more than its share of meteor and asteroid impacts.”

  Marda had forgotten just how well their team worked together on solving problems. Each of them used their individual disciplines to their fullest to track down the wayward ship. She called up the readings on her micomm. The planet Hallet had described was the best candidate for the ship to have attempted any kind of landing on. The gas giants were too problematic and that model transport wouldn’t have the scanner fidelity to determine if the moons were habitable. The remaining planets were barren rocks or worse. “If I were flying that ship, I’d take it straight to that planet, especially if they have a life-support failure.”

  Blazer stepped up. “We have a jump code and a possible planet to head towards. Let’s get ready to fly.”

  “Stand by,” Matt called. Three star-systems jumped up around the room. “Based on the analysis, old intel, and even older survey charts, we’re looking at one of these three systems. All of them are Geffer territory. Two are mining colonies, but nothing special. This whole region is filled with not quite planets.”

  Marda looked at the dates on the survey charts. All three were centuries old, predating the Pharad’s sabotage of the old jump buoy system. That crime, among other things, had resulted in their interrupted space ban.

  “What about the last one?” Gavit asked.

  “Geffer training outpost based on the latest intel, and it’s older than any of us.” Marda pulled up the report, which was based on a list of Galactic Federation training facilities, listing their name and system location, but nothing more. “Harsh environment training. Think our academy but on a much larger scale, and with fewer people.”

  Marda didn’t like the sound of that and a glance at Blazer revealed only his unreadable ‘game face.’ He was ready to go. “We should expect hostile contact then. Let’s gear up and get ready to move out, Gavit, Mikle, Acknit…” He trailed off and forced his eyes closed for a moment. It had been such a habit to have the trio crew their dropship. Since Mikle’s betrayal and Acknit’s death at his hands however, they’d lost a dedicated dropship crew, and it still stung them all. Blazer cleared his throat. “Gavit, head down to the hangar. Make sure that the crew on the ready line is competent and get our gear loaded.”

  Gavit nodded and headed out the door. He was more of a liaison to the dropship crews now, the whole team line-up changing.

  Blazer looked back at Matt. “Assuming that’s our system, does it have a name?”

  “Vetius. According to pre-war Pharad records, a rogue black hole must have drifted through it epochs ago. Probably through these other two as well.” That correlated with the age of the charts. “It tore all the planets to shreds. Vetius was the only one with a habitable planet left. But, Pharad records are hardly reliable.”

  Blazer nodded and looked at the system. Marda stepped up beside him. “We’re ready for this. Covert insertion, grab the crew off that ship, and get out of there,” she said, assuring herself more than her husband.

  UCSB Date: 1005.006

  Flight Deck, Drop Ship CS-7-011, Vetius System

  The scene on the scanner turned Gavit’s stomach. More junk than he’d ever flown through, or would ever care to fly through, filled every one of the planet’s orbits. The debris around the planet spoke volumes about some cataclysmic event within the last few millennia, in all likelihood a large moon or planetary twin exploding near the world. The shattered remains cloaked it in a navigational Sheol of asteroids worse than even their academy’s asteroid shell.

  The ion trail the civilian transport had left behind spelled out a terrible scene. The pilot had had some skill, but the transport was no fighter, or even a dropship. The turn rate of those craft were best measured in geologic aeons so far as he was concerned. Despite that, the pilot had managed to make it through that navigational duwn terror to the planet. A handful of radiation spikes however made it clear that they hadn’t gotten through unscathed.

  “Remind me to kill our travel agent,” Chris remarked as she drifted beside Gavit’s seat.

  “If you’ve got a complaint about the view you should have read the tourist’s guide first,” he replied and wished he could be at the controls. He felt impotent sitting in the back of the cockpit. The dropship crew was more than competent, maybe even better than he was, at controlling the lumbering beast of a craft. The precious little it left him to do was driving him to distraction. Once they were down, he’d have a job to do, but not until then. It led to a certain appreciation of how the rest of the team must have felt during transit.

  The pilot accelerated and Chris grabbed hold of Gavit’s shoulder to steady herself. Gavit checked their position. They’d vectored the dropship in close to one of the larger asteroids, shielding them from enemy sensors. “How long until we’re planet-side? Folks are getting antsy.”

  “After waiting on command and intel for a cycle to tell us what we’ve already figured out, yeah.” Gavit pulled up the flight profile. This crew were no chatterboxes - he’d barely even caught their names during the flight. What he did know was that they wouldn’t want to be interrupted during these critical phases of the insertion. “No more than eighty pulses at this rate,” he reported, noticing Chris’ hand resting on his shoulder.

  Chris appeared to noticed as well and recoiled. “Good, I’ll let the rest know.” She pushed off towards the descent line back into the main bay and disappeared. Gavit couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on the empty space and how her hand had felt. He shook it off and examined the checklist for insertion and for his recon jet-sled. He was eager to take wing upon it.

  Main Bay, Dropship CS-7-011

  With his helmet off, Blazer hated that his frustration was visible to all. The delay in launching the mission had forced him out of his ‘game face’ only to shove him right back into it. It had left him in an odd middle state that no one was used to - irritable and snappy until he could engage in the actual mission. They’d launched probes ahead as soon as they’d entered the system. The telemetry that had been fed back gave him a clearer picture of what to expect on the planet. He’d hoped that by studying the tactical map before him it would ease his nerves - it hadn’t.

  To say that the planet was barely habitable was being generous. The constant bombardment by the orbiting debris field had cast the surface into alternating bands of massive crust-breaking impact craters and frozen wastelands. The southern oceans had somehow escaped the devastation. The hearty bacterial life there had managed to churn out enough oxygen to allow one to live without a full pressure suit, at least for a short time. More than a few cycles without at least a class-two filter however would result in lung scarring. Worse than that, however, was the Galactic Federation presence.

  The transport’s pilot had seemed to realize that the system was home to the Galactic Federation training post. That had led him to put down on the opposite side of the planet. It also appeared that the pilot had forced several tons of debris down with them. Fresh impact craters marred the region in an uneven line along their de-orbit angle. The resultant debris cloud must have shielded the descent as all but the most skilled pilots would steer clear of the region. The debris cloud had been short-lived however. Local winds had blown it away to reveal the landscape to not only their probes but also to the garrison’s satellites.

  Enough of the new meteorites were of metallic varieties that would impede EM scanners from pinpointing the ship. Blazer and the team
however knew what to look for and they found the transport with ease. The recent launch of a suborbital transport from the base revealed that, while it may have taken them longer, so had the Geffers. “Gavit, how close can the crew put us down to that transport?”

  There was a momentary pause before Gavit replied. “We can put in right behind the transport, and should be able to beat that Geffer ship there.”

  “That ship?”

  “We still don’t know whether they’ve sent an advance force.”

  Blazer gritted his teeth and looked at the rest of the team. They were ready and hungry for this. “We need to move fast. We are mounting up in the AT-APT. Take the rest of your fireteam and set them up on the crater rim I’m highlighting here,” Blazer ordered. “I want them to have a good vantage point should trouble emerge.”

  A second circle appeared on Blazer’s screen on a different crater rim. “Lead, respectfully,” Matt called. “This one should give us a better vantage point of the ship and the approaching Geffer transport.”

  Blazer examined the map again, rotated it confirm Matt’s assessment. “Agreed. Everyone mount up!”

  Crash Site, Vetius 3

  The massive Ferine dropship had made a quick pass over the crash site before settling behind the ship, its two outrigger pods lowering and their ramps opening. The ship hadn’t even settled to the ground before the hovering AT-APT burst out of the left pod and the jet-sled from the right. Gavit straddled the hovering jet craft like a racing bike, the open-air sled soaring skyward. Matt and Bichard clung to the flanking engines beside him. Collapsible windscreens protected them as they ascended above the crashed ship. Gavit looked about. The camera turret under his nose followed his eyes, imaging the area across the full EM spectrum.