As time dragged on, Steve became fixated on three goals. The destruction of the Empire. A return to Turkskee, to visit his people. And to mount an expedition to Crimson, to learn what had happened to his ancestors.
Those were lofty goals, all of them far beyond his ability to achieve. Then he met Shockwave. They shared his primary goal of bringing an end to the Empire. Next, it was because of Shockwave he came to visit Turkskee once again, for the Ringolar Gate operation. That he was nearly killed, several times, was of no consequence to him.
Anyway, we decided as a team to run the idea for the next teleportation gate mission past Steve, to see if he might have an idea, other than Crimson. Sorry, Steve, I had Communal look into it, and we haven’t been able to locate your long-lost planet. For some reason, everyone thinks Steve and I are the best of buds, so I’ve been asked to track him down and pick his brain for location ideas.
Communal? You there? Could you track down Steve for me, see if his location log is active? He doesn’t ever respond to pid-messages, and I need to talk to him this afternoon if possible.
*COMMUNAL: Hi Viz. We’re glad to help, already on his trail.
Thanks, Communal! No hurry, I’m going to be busy for an hour or so.
We’re all heading to the Solcom seminar, to hear what our favorite general, General Whitehall, has to say about near-Earth defense upgrades. You might want to pop in, though it might be a little... dry. No doubt you can access the Solcom security feeds. Just kidding. There’ll likely be an AI junction. Roll is giving us a lift, but I have to meet him at Para’s place, all the way across the hall. And, I’m off.
***
Steve focused on his feet, bidding them to stay put and not carry him across the room. He spotted Viz first. She was a lot of fun, despite her being human. Brave. Honorable. Willing to take a chance for a noble cause. He could tease and prank her, too, without worrying that she might get all worked up or upset. That wasn’t the case with most humans. He had managed to surprise himself, when he made her a promise at one of the human celebrations, New Year’s Eve. Someday, they would run with the Krill.
There they are, the entire Shockwave team. Oh! Viz spotted him and was coming over.
Steve focused on staying upright as Viz led them through a happy hello exchange and then asked him for some help in choosing the next planet for a gate incursion.
Steve came close to achieving an air of nonchalance, shrugging and cocking his head to the side. “How about we pay a visit to Crimson?”
Viz looked closely at Steve. “You look a little on edge, Steve. Don’t worry, we’re just looking for suggestions. You don’t need to come along and risk your life again. These gate recons are just plain dangerous. No one would ask you to go through another Ringolar episode.”
Steve’s ears perked up and his eyes shifted from side to side. “Oh, uhhh, don’t worry about me. I insist on tagging along to Crimson.”
Viz squinted an eye at him. “Spill it, Steve. What’s up with Crimson? No one even knows how to find it.”
As Steve considered what he should say, the rest of team Shockwave wandered over to say hello. Viz had spotted Steve during a break in presentations, after General Whitehall’s speech. They had planned on leaving the conference, but Tee was distracted for a time by a colleague, when General Whitehall strolled over and invited them to sit at his table as guests. What could they do? Evidently, Steve had been invited to the conference as well. It made sense, Steve being a leading expert on Empire tactics and technologies.
Steve had a certain look about him as the rest of the team approached, a saved-by-the-bell sort of look. “Hi guys. Nice to see you all here! Viz and I were just catching-up.”
It had been a while since they saw him last, so Viz stood patiently while the round of greetings played out.
Then she folder her arms and looked at Steve. “Now that we’re all caught up, please continue with your thoughts of a Crimson incursion.”
Para had a confused look. “Isn’t Crimson the mystery planet, the one that disappeared, or something?”
Steve took a deep breath, risked a sideways glance at Viz, and then squared his shoulders. “Actually, we call it the Terrible Silence. You know Turkskee is a colony world and Crimson is our planet of origin. It has been thousands of years since the Silence, but we still remember our first-world and our ancestors each year on Origen’s Day. I know the Empire invaded Crimson, but I can’t find out what happened afterward.”
Rock had a question. “You were on Prime for quite a while and had access to Resistance databases. I’m surprised you never found some of your people.”
Steve wagged his head. “People from Turkskee, yes. But I never found anyone from Crimson, or learned what happened to them. It’s like they disappeared from the universe.”
Para and Viz exchanged a sad look. No doubt the Empire had destroyed Crimson, something they still intended for Earth.
Tee cocked his head in a show of interest. “It just went silent? Are you able to provide location details for Crimson? Coordinates?”
Viz decided to help move the conversation past what was no doubt a sad memory for Steve. “I even asked Communal to check around for information about Crimson. There’s nothing available.”
Steve shuddered, trying to control an all-out burst of enthusiasm. “When we were on Turkskee, for that exciting incursion of Ringolar, I just happened to stop by the town council office and nab a copy of the astrochart used by the first colony ships.
“Oh. What a coincidence! I have it right here in my binder. Shall we grab a table and have a look?”
Viz attempted to undo the eye squint, which was emerging once more, though it had nothing to do with Para’s recent suggestion she was asking for a wrinkle. “You just happen to have an astrochart with you? At a Solcom seminar related to near Earth defense capabilities?”
Steve once again imitated a human shrug, taking a seat and spreading out the chart. “Sure. Why not? The council seems to think this as an actual copy of the charts used by the colonists. It really isn’t, of course. But I did a thorough analysis. The chart accurately shows the location of both star systems and the general course of the colony ships.
“Then, I took it one more step. It’s been thousands of years since the voyage, so I had my AI... have you met Jonathan? So, I had Jonathan determine the current star positions.”
Roll’s detail-oriented mind enjoys precision. “Good job, Steve. How up to date is the position mapping?”
Steve glanced at Viz, then back to the charts. “Uhhh, they’re quite recent.”
Viz pointed a finger at him. “You had Jonathan run them this morning, didn’t you? Expecting this very meeting with Shockwave.”
Steve had a nervous look. “Well. I... it may be that-”
Tee interrupted to give Steve a hand. “It’s okay, Steve. I’m intrigued. We’ve got a mission decision deadline coming up fast. What say we ditch the rest of the seminar and give this Crimson idea some thought?”
Steve had the charts packed and was heading for the door before Tee finished the last sentence. “What say we do just that? I’ve rented a room right here in the complex, with an adjoining office suite. Or, we could port to Shockwave HQ if you prefer. Your quputers have a lot more horsepower.”
We ended up in the large conference room at Shockwave HQ to evaluate Steve’s suggestion. Our team has a comprehensive database of Primer information, thanks to the Resistance, and intel collected by operatives of the SID. We crunched the data again, looking for any hints about the lost planet. Other than an ancient Primer statement about a planned invasion of Crimson, we found no information. It was reason enough for a detailed recon expedition, a platoon strength operation. The lack of any information related to a conquered world invited questions. Too much silence can be deafening.
But before we petitioned Solcom to open their wallet enough to send several SPECOPS squads, it would make sense to have a quick look at the situation on Crimson.
Eve
ryone was careful not to mention Crimson might be a lifeless cinder.
***
And I’m back, in real-time. Rock and I are suiting up for a down-and-dirty geo-space survey of Crimson. Or, whatever planet is showing on the astrochart. With the help of a Logan sensor unit, enveloped by my cloaking field, we can covertly scan the planet in a matter of minutes.
What’s that, Rock?
Oh. We’ll be back in a matter of seconds, instead of minutes. Sad for me, the Logan scanning will leave a targeting position for any Primer defensive gun positions, so the survey work will involve a series of flash-ports. I can provide cloak for our immediate vicinity. But it’s not as though the source area of an active scan won’t stick out plain as day for a targeting tag. Rock is used to flashing in and out of existence in a split-second. But my stomach is going to end up in a twisted knot.
Deep breaths as I run the last checks on my vac-suit. Apparently, we’ll be back... momentarily.
And I’m back, all but my stomach, not sure where that ended up. There it is. Uhggg.
It’s just as well no one mentioned there would be several planetary touchdowns. Multiple ports are disorienting enough when done at a fixed elevation. The ups and downs only add to the vertigo. Still, gathering bio-data is a smart move, especially if it means we won’t have to wear environmental suits on the mission.
Stellar! The Logan data has already gone through the processor mill. It’s time to review the details, with a nice side of saltine crackers and ginger ale. They work best after a port-ride like that.
Crimson, at a glance, has few people. There are some active settlements, none very large. The EM signals suggest active tech but the readings are scarce. It suggests a minimal use of electronics, or active concealment. A teleportation gate is visible with normal imaging. It’s not a working gate, with scan readings suggesting it was never charged with exotics. Also, there is no characteristic portal gate defensive gun emplacement. It’s all very odd. Too odd. At least there are no biohazard concerns.
We did verify the planet as Crimson. Steve had some ancient scenic images, mountain ranges, that were coveted by the colonists. They proved to be a match.
Now, we’re just waiting for final clearance. This is a fast-track mission, so we should know soon. Solcom will probably give the go, even though an uncharged gate negates the main purpose for the operation. There’s something odd about Crimson that just... stands out. I’ve definitely got a feeling about this one.
When we can, we work with GG and Dirty Feet, and Solcom tries to be accommodating. Communal said they had already cleared the roster for both teams. It eases my mind, just a little, to have those guys along. And the gangs all here, as we wait. Expectantly.
There go our pids, chiming the active-duty call, our mission cleared by Solcom.
Tee met earlier with the squad leads to give a quick rundown of the operation. Now, we gear up to the sound of cheery mission banter. I love to hear the openness of the conversations. Shockwave, as a SpecOps team, is a bit unconventional. Add to that, Tee enjoys a Solar League undersecretary position, and the rank of colonel. A squad leader usually has the rank of sergeant. So, yeah, the unconventional calculation just keeps on growing.
My AI’s psychology module suggests his easygoing manner eliminates intimidation at the squad level and allows him to glide through the rarified air that accompanies the higher positions of power.
And there’s the port-tech muster call; time to move out for Crimson.
***
First things first, we’ve set up two Emergency Porting Zones, with extra supplies, in remote defensible positions. Next up, there’s a settlement near the teleportation gate location. Team Shockwave will drop by to make first contact with the locals. Gopher Guts will port around a bend in the road to provide cover. Dirty Feet is set to do an initial recon of the teleportation gate area.
Turkskee still has one primary language, though with many dialects. On Crimson, we expect more language drift. Not to worry, the latest translator quputer modeling programs can pick up on new languages quickly. And we have Fierce with his language gift, his ultimate gift-of-gab.
We’ve untangled near the settlement, behind a rock outcropping for cover. This part of Crimson is dry, the air having a scent which reminds me of sagebrush. The settlement has a crude defensive perimeter, with a gatekeeper covered head to toe in a rough hooded robe.
We’re hanging back, looking friendly, while Fierce approaches with empty hands, arms open wide. “Greetings, friend. May I approach?”
The gatekeeper seems to understand. “Yes. What is it you seek, strange-one?”
“We seek knowledge about the gate to the stars, and those who placed it here.”
“There may yet be a few gate builders, though I have not seen one in many cycles. You must hurry to reach the gate before darkness finds you. Beware... . Go now.”
“Please, kind sir. Of what shall we be wary? Do you fear the gate builders?”
“Fear the gate builders? No, we do not fear the gate builders. Go, now. I will speak no more of it. Go!”
The village gatekeeper would speak no more, making it clear by word and deed, folding his arms and turning his back to Fierce. The brief dialogue was clearly unusual, made the more by the use of the original language of the Turkskee colonists, which would have been a primary tongue of Crimson. Fierce found it strange to have no change after so long. Think of how English, for example, has changed over a few hundred years. I just wrote it off as too short of a conversation to detect any changes.
Tee decided to move on. “Fierce, take point. We’ll meet the other units around the bend, then port on to the gate. Dirty Feet should have completed a recon of the gate area by then.”
He took one more look at the settlement gatekeeper’s back. “Okay, let’s move out.”
We met up with the other units a few minutes later. Dirty Feet had located a good PZ, line of site with the portal gate.
The teams untangled in a desolate area, flat and barren to the left, with large boulders here and there. To the right, the ground sloped up to dry hills. The gate looked complete, though it had no power, or the exotics necessary to function. There wasn’t even a rudimentary beginning for a defensive gun emplacement.
All around us were small mounds, three feet wide, maybe two feet tall. As we approached the gate, some the mounds started to move, then rise. Dirt fell away to reveal a dozen filthy naked people covered with roundish growths.
Tee shouted, “Spread out, weapons charged but tight.”
In retrospect, there was plenty of warning, if you understood the situation. The poor people of Crimson stood there screaming, the growths spasming, expanding. We were nervous, ready to fire on command. After a minute, the cysts erupted, sending dozens of horrible creatures toward us. I barely had time to react, ducking as one of them flew at my head.
My mind reeled, trying to process the image of the creature speeding by, my minds-eye telling me it looked very much like a winged scorpion, the sting dripping with a loathsome puss. It flew high, hovering for a moment, allowing a shot. I raised my Longarm to accommodate, but it moved off in a blur. This was NOT going to be a fun expedition.
Tee shouted over the whine-slap of Longarms and the louder mini-20s. “Retreat to Alpha. To your port-tech. Move! Move!”
Rock had already grabbed Fierce and me for the port. We untangled at our Alpha EPZ landing circle. Roll was a second behind us, with Para, Tee, and Steve.
The monster’s image was burned into my mine. “What were those things, Steve?”
Steve shook his head, looking a little sick. “Never seen anything like that. Filthy, nasty things!”
Tee was having trouble with the comms. “GG and Dirty Feet should be here by now. Comms are spotty. Burman! O’Malley! Report.”
Corporal Rodriquez was pushing out a general call on a broadcast loop, as the comms cycled in and out, our pids working hard to provide a meaningful syntax. “Use
your mini-20s. Birdshot mangles these things as good as it does a Prime sniffer.”
Tee was working toward a bout of exasperation. “Roddy! What’s your situation?”
Roddy tried to report. “Tee, port-techs... defensive perimeter... cave-”
Tee began to pace. “Rock, Viz. Head back to the gate under cloak. We need a sitrep.”
***
We untangled at altitude to get a feel for the situation on the ground. As we plummeted, I could see that more of the mounds had awakened. A group stood together, swaying rhythmically over several forms on the ground. I increased magnification again, to confirm they were our guys, curled up and shaking, likely hit by one of the horrors. The rest of our forces had split into two groups.
One group had their backs to a massive boulder. There were regular reports from the 20-gauge mini guns. A lot of guys carry those, despite the extra weight, since they work so well against the Empire’s sniffer drones. And apparently, they are effective against these flying scorpions from hell. The firing moderated, becoming more methodical, as though everyone was conserving their ammunition.
Dozens of... I don’t know what to call them. Dozens of the carriers, weighted down by the dreadful cysts, were limping up a steep hill toward a cave where our other guys were making their stand. We were falling fast, the ground drawing near, so I tugged at Rock’s arm and pointed, just in case he wasn’t paying attention to our own situation. The teams had been forced to divide, the mixed unit near the cave ending up with both squad SAWs. Okay, technically they’re Interstellar-war Model Railguns, IMRs.
Anyway, in our last moments of freefall flight, I heard the opening chatter of the SAWs spewing death, the carriers disappearing in a blood red mist.
We untangled along the boulder shared by group one and uncloaked. I heard it before I saw it, ducking by instinct. Something heavy hit the boulder, hard, near my head. I turned to see the creature staring at me. It watched me with eyes beaming intelligence. Instead of feeling fear, a sluggishness came over me along with the smell of almonds in the air.
The hardened handle of a mini-20 hammering the beast interrupted my trance. It should have died. Instead, it flew off screaming in pain and rage. Rock turned back and started firing again in earnest. With the pungent smell of almonds dissipating, I came to myself and added to the volley. But there were too many carriers releasing their deadly cargo as they approached.
Invasion: Journal Three (Shockwave Book 3) Page 5
