by Richard Fox
"We're almost at the LZ." He surveyed the area, looking for anything that would ruin the resupply. It was a good location. "We're set. What's your ETA, Hammer Two?”
"Momentarily."
Hoffman laughed involuntarily. A mechanical spike the size of Booker slammed into the ground dead center of the perimeter they had set out. The thing had minimal antigravity plating to slow the final descent.
The rest of the team arrived. Without hesitation, Steuben opened the pod and removed the drone. With several fluid movements that belied his mechanical hand, he put a device from his armor into the drone and tossed it into the air.
Seconds later, the drone disappeared in a cloaking field.
"Oh, that's why it's called a ‘Karigole cloak,’” Garrison said. “Thought they were useless for most tactical situations.”
“Really, doofus?” Max said, dipping his head toward the breacher. “In front of the Karigole?”
“If the enemy is scanning for the cloaks, they are easily defeated,” Steuben said, unfazed by the cross talk. “That these Kesaht serve the Toth makes a number of things clear. The Toth have used Karigole cloaks in the past. Their ship must have arrived from a wormhole in the outer solar system where it wasn’t detected by the system’s defenses, then flew here while cloaked. They thought they could sneak off world and through the Crucible undetected. Clever, but they’ve given us a scent to follow. All cloaks have a resonance frequency. The field I just loaded onto that drone can detect another cloak from line of sight over several miles. Now we wait.”
“That’s exactly what I was going to say,” Garrison said. “Had all that worked out myself. Really.”
A breeze cut across the clearing, feeling like it had swept in from the distant savanna. As everyone looked at each other, Hoffman resisted the urge to fidget or review the data for the tenth time.
Max cleared his throat. "So you were in that movie, Last Stand on Takeni? You seemed a lot…shorter in that.”
Steuben growled but not unpleasantly—or maybe it was angrily. Hoffman was still trying to parse the Karigole body language.
"A travesty," Steuben said. "An insult. Standish should have destroyed that abomination of art when he bought the rights. Instead, he put himself into the movie.”
"That guy cannot act," Duke said. "At all."
Steuben glanced at his forearm screen. "I have a location."
Hoffman reviewed the information when it came to his screen, quickly confirming that everyone received Steuben's transmission. The old armor seemed to be integrated with the new.
He looked to the mountains and imagined the valley beyond it as was indicated by the coordinates. Magnifying his visor optics, he detected a line of wrecked trees from a crash but no ship.
"It is still cloaked," Steuben said.
"Team, let's go," Hoffman said. “Time to earn our paychecks.”
Chapter 7
Steuben kept to himself during the trek across the valley. Hoffman watched him carefully, noting how easily he fit into their formation and how refined his movement was. Small things—from how he walked to how he scanned his assigned zone without rushing to failure—impressed Hoffman, and he wondered how his team would compare to other heroes of the Ember War. It was a sobering thought.
The closer they moved toward the destination, the slower he drove the team. King and Booker took point while Duke constantly searched for good overwatch locations.
The sky turned purple as they stopped to spy on their target.
“I have the eye and excellent concealment,” Duke announced. “You’re welcome.”
“Hold and report. I want to stay updated. Keep an eye out for Sanheel on the perimeter.”
"Nothing seen yet. I'll let you know."
Steuben put his frightening clawed hands on Hoffman’s shoulder. "The child is essential to the Karigole’s future. Her life is worth more than mine.”
Hoffman nodded.
Duke reported a patrol of Sanheel. Moments later, Garrison reported a second.
"I suspect they have their zone quartered," King said. "Let's assume two more patrols, any of which might function as a QRF for the others."
Duke's gravelly voice droned out a description of the tactical environment outside the ship. "Can confirm a third and fourth element. All operating in pairs. Looks like Gunney’s assessment of their QRF plan is accurate. I don’t see a larger response force."
Hoffman consulted his tactical display. "Duke, remember when you told me you could make that two-thousand-meter shot?"
"Like it was yesterday."
"You have the pair of Sanheel in sector four. When they reach the edge of their zone where you can see them, take both of them. That will be the signal for other teams," Hoffman said.
"Give Booker the other long-range shot," Duke said.
"Booker, you copy?"
“Copy. I can make the shot with my gauss rifle easy. No cheating, like with Duke’s toothpick,” Booker said.
“Did you just insult Ice Claw?”
"King,” Hoffman said, “you have sector one and Garrison has sector three. Opal, you’re cleanup for sector four. Gor’al, same thing for sector two. I'll cover down on Steuben." The Sanheel patrol in sector four would be entering Duke's kill zone in seconds.
"Stand by. Taking the shot in three, two, one…"
Duke's sniper rifle cracked twice and the rest of the team fired almost simultaneously. Hoffman scanned the area for a reaction from the Sanheel and counted to ten.
"Good work, team. Let's move in slow. Hate to waste all that marksmanship because someone stepped on a twig," Hoffman said.
Steuben moved beside him as they crept through the darkening night. "You are a decent Strike Marine. I think I can work with you."
"Thanks. You're the best one-handed Karigole I've been in the field with."
"How many have you worked with?"
"Counting you? One.”
"Earth humor. I am laughing on the inside."
Hoffman chuckled. "You're all right, Steuben.”
"Your team must orient themselves before we continue. The displacement field is hard on the senses," Steuben said.
"Team, hold your positions." Hoffman reviewed video feeds from each of their helmets. Looking at the ship made him dizzy.
"Garrison, don't look away from that breach."
The camera view swept across the damaged ship, eventually focusing on an intact piece of the fuselage.
"Garrison," Hoffman said sternly.
Slowly, the camera feed moved left and resolved on a hole ripped in the side of the Kesaht ship.
"I know you want to blow everything up, but remember when we ran out of denethrite on Kid’ran’s Gift? How much fun was that?” Hoffman asked.
"You're right, LT. I think this opening could be improved. It's a little small for Opal and Steuben,” Garrison said.
Steuben shifted restlessly. “Too much caution. The gethaar is in danger. Tell me your plan now or I will make my own.”
"The Sanheel normally use Rakka on their outer perimeter. They’re also fond of charging and always have a troop of them ready to go. Their lack of Rakka or QRF suggests limited manpower," Hoffman said.
"What is a Rakka?” Steuben asked.
"An ugly, bipedal humanoid that likes to fight…and wear body parts as trophies.”
“There is something wrong with that?” Steuben asked. “I joke. Very funny, you think.”
“Hilarious. I’m sending in two Marines on a stealth mission to see what we have. If this is a hostage rescue, it’d help to know where the hostage is and how fast we need to reach her before the Ixio that’s normally in charge of a ship this size decides to hurt the hostage,” Hoffman said.
“What is an Ixio?” Steuben said. “Are you making these names up?”
“Garrison and Booker, you’re up.”
“You send the guy who explodes things?” Steuben asks.
“I have my reasons.”
“I’d sure like to k
now what they are,” Booker said. “Kidding. We’ve trained for this, Steuben. I’m small and Garrison is good at getting into places with or without explosives.”
“I’ve got tools and skills for breaching doors—and natural good looks for those high-class party infiltrations.”
Max snorted. “High class? That was a strip club.”
“Which I had to watch from the outside despite my obvious qualifications as an inside agent.”
“Very good,” King interrupted, his tone silencing the loose talk. “You’re all very special. I will write a nice letter to your mothers telling them what an asset you are to the Terran Union. Now shut your mouths and execute the lieutenant's plan.”
“On you, Booker,” Garrison said.
The medic crept along the hull of the shimmering ship with Garrison right behind her. They looked like kids playing make-believe in the moonlight. On casual inspection, the clearing seemed empty. Only a washed-out wrongness, a wavering in the air like over an open fire, gave away the presence of the Kesaht ship.
The stealth team paused. Garrison tapped Booker on the shoulder and she ducked through the hole with him, following so closely they were almost wearing the same armor.
“We’re in,” Booker said. “Pretty standard Kesaht ship, maybe a light corvette class. Leaving coms and video open so you can follow along.”
“There’s a slight lag with the video,” Hoffman said.
“Copy that,” Booker said.
Hoffman expanded her image feed as large as it would go in his HUD, covering the view from other team members. She worked her way through a hallway with several doors.
“Clear up to the first intersection. The opening was in the middle of their barracks. Rakka body parts everywhere. Looks like they lost a bunch of the poor bastards to the lightning strike,” she said. “Need a couple more to clear rooms.”
“Hammer One, copy that. Bringing the team. Duke, maintain overwatch.”
“It’s what I do,” he said grimly.
“Poor snipers, never invited to the real party,” Booker said.
“You didn’t complain on Koensuu. There was that steam room…” Duke drawled.
“Look at that—I think I found a barricaded door. Could this be our bad guy’s lair?” Booker said, speaking rapidly.
Hoffman and the others gathered at the opening, stacking up like it was a fresh assault. King brought up the tail-gunner-charlie position, tapping Max in front of him, who tapped Opal and so on. When Hoffman felt Steuben’s mechanical touch, he went in, concentrating on smooth, efficient movements. Before long, he found Booker and Garrison holding a long hallway.
“Let’s clear these side rooms and hold on the barricaded door. They’ve probably seen us on their surveillance cameras,” Hoffman said.
“If they’re working,” Garrison said.
“Let’s assume they are.”
Garrison pointed at a small, crude camera that had been turned to show a close-up view of the wall it was mounted on. “That one isn’t. Maybe they noticed when I turned it, maybe they didn’t. I know they’re Kesaht, but there’s still a chance they’re watching bootleg copies of the Last Stand on Takeni instead of doing their job.”
Steuben looked at Hoffman. “He’s the dumb one, isn’t he?”
“I’m funny and irreverent. Opal’s the dumb one.”
“Opal eat soon,” Opal said.
“It’s complicated,” Hoffman said. “Let’s run these rooms and meet out here. Two guns to a room unless you need more.”
He took the first doorway in the same manner he had entered the ship. Steuben followed.
Triple-stacked bunk beds lined three of the walls. Beyond the cubicle was a second room that looked like a combination kitchen, shower, and toilet. “Clear, nothing seen.”
Steuben led the way back to the hallway. They skipped the next cell because Gor’al and Max were already clearing it. Soon, the hallway had been swept of possible threats.
The barricaded door was at the end of a T intersection, the arms of which they hadn’t cleared because those hallways probably continued around the rest of the ship’s circumference.
“Opal and Gor, protect Garrison while he gets that door open. Watch the long angles.”
“Guard hallway,” the doughboy said.
“Yes, I will do this for you, Lieutenant Hoffman,” Gor’al said.
“This will take him a long time and it is probably a safe room for their cowardly officers,” Steuben said. “We should search the rest of the ship while we wait.”
Hoffman thought about it. "We’ll have to split up."
Steuben nodded. "Agreed. This is best."
"King, stay here with the team. Keep overwatch on Garrison. Opal, come with us."
"Yes, sir.”
"I’ll lead," Steuben said. "I've had some experience with alien vessels."
Hoffman cocked his head sideways in acknowledgment. He had experienced more than his own share of alien strangeness, but it was probably nothing compared to the exploits of someone like Steuben. The Karigole didn't seem like the type of warrior to sit down and tell stories over a beer. Maybe they would talk when this was over. He'd like to pick the brain of a real hero of the Ember War.
Steuben moved swiftly but didn't rush. Whenever they came to a doorway, he went inside, Hoffman following right behind him and Opal guarding the hallway. On one occasion, Hoffman called Opal inside to help with a larger room.
One area after another proved empty.
They emerged into the main hallway that followed the contour of the ship.
"I think most of their assets are guarding the ship or are behind the barricaded door,” Hoffman said.
"Garrison for Hoffman." A voice came over the IR comm.
"Go for Hoffman."
"This isn't going to be one of those ‘armory’ situations again, is it?" Garrison asked. "Because that was a bit of a shit show."
“It was an honest mistake,” Gor’al said. “We all survived the Kesaht Armor. Ha ha. Let us remember it fondly.”
"If it is, then it's the room you found. You’ll have to clean it,” Hoffman said.
"Booker helped find it," Garrison said.
"Do you need something or are you just wasting radio traffic?" Hoffman asked.
"I’m running a snake camera into a vent. Thought you should know. Might piss them off and set off a massive security event."
“Thanks for the heads-up. Be careful.”
****
"We’re wasting time," Steuben said.
Hoffman agreed but didn't have a better option. He picked up the pace, cruising down the ship hallway, hunting through his gunsights until he found what he was hoping would be there—a mirror image of the T intersection his team was trying to penetrate.
"The Kesaht ships look random and strange, but they're pretty basic,” Hoffman said. “This should be a duplicate of the first section.”
“Yes. I was thinking the same.” Steuben’s gravelly voice betrayed the same impatience and growing dread Hoffman felt.
“As a bonus, this door isn't barricaded."
Steuben studied the area, then turned the camera toward the wall as Garrison had on the other side.
“Opal, hold this intersection.”
“Yes, sir.” The doughboy swept his eyes each direction and then at Hoffman, then repeated the process with his complete attention.
“It is a good sentry,” Steuben said, grudgingly impressed.
"Let's see if we can get in," Hoffman said.
The door was stout enough to withstand decompression if ship integrity was lost during a void battle, and the keypad was covered with simple shapes. Hoffman applied the standard decryption software issued to all Strike Marines and it opened. "I think this is an older ship."
"Or your equipment has improved a great deal since I served with the Terran Union.”
“Step back.” Hoffman jammed the open button with the barrel of his gauss rifle—retreating a step as soon as the door st
arted to slide.
"I will cut some pie," Steuben said.
“The pie. Cut the pie.”
“I said that.” With his weapon aimed but just low enough to avoid obstructing his view, Steuben took longer and longer peeks at sections of what was inside. When he reached the other side of the door, he nodded at Hoffman. “We should crisscross, I think you Marines say.”
Hoffman bent his knees slightly and then nodded. Steuben went first. Hoffman crossed behind him to clear the left portion of the room. Steuben did the right side a few seconds later.
"Opal, with us."
The doughboy came quickly and covered the center. The room was full of metal cubes four feet long on a side, the corners reinforced with bronze-colored caps.
Steuben carefully approached a cube in the middle of the floor and growled. “What is this?”
“Stasis cube,” Hoffman said. “Saw them on the mission debrief from when the Union fought the Kesaht on Oricon.”
“She could be inside.” Steuben drew his scimitar and jammed it into a seam and twisted. The cube popped open, and blue light cast across the deck. Inside was a reptile with feathers around the neck and ankles.
“Thagrich,” Steuben said. “Local animal. We eat them.”
“I doubt the gethaar is in any of these,” Hoffman said. “Let’s double back to the barricaded door.”
Hoffman felt more anxious as they hurried back. Finding a stasis cube didn’t reassure him. “These Kesaht assholes came a long way to steal kids. I can’t believe that Masha…she was telling the truth. I’m not sure why that bothers me so much.”
“Break spy,” Opal said.
“Got to find her first, big guy,” Hoffman said.
“This battle construct can harm humans?” Steuben asked. “I’ve encountered their shoddy programming before.”
“He’s conditioned to disarm and subdue a small number of specific humans,” Hoffman said. “You and the rest of the Karigole are safe from him. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not to worry until a doughboy murders a Ruhaald notable and then half the team is in custody when we need them the most,” Steuben said.
“What?” Hoffman looked from Opal to Steuben and back again.
