by Mel Odom
Getting the submersibles was only part of the plan.
The easy part.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Kequaem’s Needle
Makaum Space
0515 Hours Zulu Time
The evacuation of air in the hallway triggered the emergency systems on board Kequaem’s Needle. Rectangular airtight hatches slammed shut between the compartments and slowed the advance of Kiwanuka and her team.
Hacking each locking mechanism took time, and even though Veug managed to get through them in seconds, the obstacles allowed the ship’s crew more time to prepare themselves to repel boarders.
Or set traps.
During other missions that had ended up on board space vessels, Kiwanuka had set traps herself. Her mind filled with the mayhem she could cause in the time they were allowing Morlortai and his people to work.
Red alarm lights flashed in the hallway but were silent in the vacuum that filled the space because Kiwanuka’s HUD filtered out the shrill screeches.
Goldberg kept a steady pace as she moved forward. She kept her Roley pointed forward and the stock was collapsed against her shoulder so she could easily peer around corners. The ship only had one corridor that ran from prow to stern, but several hatches branched off it to cargo access shafts where the crew could access the containers. Each of them flared yellow on Kiwanuka’s HUD to alert her of the possibility of an ambush point.
Goldberg slammed a fist against the access hatch controls on the wall at her side, stepped back with the Roley ready, and watched as the barrier recessed into the wall with a hiss. With the airlock sealed and the ship’s atmosphere protected, the automated lockdown of the cargo hatches hadn’t occurred.
“Clear,” Goldberg said. She pressed a hand against the control again and the hatch slid back into position. “Sealed and armed.” She moved forward again.
Kiwanuka’s HUD logged the sec wafer Goldberg’s armor had extruded onto the entrance. The wafer was low-key tech and would alert them if the hatch was used. It also carried a flash-bang charge that would disorient anyone who wasn’t armored. The sudden concussive wave, sound effects, and light show would alert the boarding team and give them a small edge.
Goldberg continued forward, checked the hatches quickly, and placed more sec wafers.
Four hatches farther on, Goldberg reached for the opening only to get knocked back by the burly figure rushing from within. The scout banged up against the bulkhead on the opposite side of the corridor.
Kiwanuka pulled the Roley to her shoulder. Just as her sights settled over the interloper’s head and shoulders, he shifted and flung Goldberg at Kiwanuka. The sudden impact bowled Kiwanuka over and drove her backward. She and Goldberg went down in a tangle of limbs.
The red warning lights lifted the Lemylian from the shadows as he pulled the large-caliber Hin’ath slug-thrower pistol from his hip. He brought it up and his brutish face lit with a grim smile.
“Gonna die, Terran,” he promised.
Kiwanuka threw her left arm up and managed to lever Goldberg to the side.
“Open right glove,” Kiwanuka ordered the suit’s near-AI.
Instantly, the armor peeled back from her bionic hand. She willed the arm to conform into the shotgun configuration hidden within it, but even as her bionics shifted, she knew she was going to be too late. She hoped the armor would withstand the Hin’ath’s projectiles and that the shotgun’s double-aught buckshot would at least knock the Lemylian from his feet.
Noojin vaulted over Kiwanuka and Goldberg. Her left hand and both boots adhered against the bulkhead and held her there for an instant, then she ran upside down over Kiwanuka. The Lemylian shifted aim and fired, but the large-caliber round only smeared and fragmented against the bulkhead with a large muzzle flash.
In mid-stride, Noojin fired her grappling hook. The small, hooked head pierced the Lemylian’s right shoulder in a burst of flesh and blood. The Lemylian dropped his weapon, grimaced, and wrapped his hand in the buckyball strand that trailed the grappling hook. He set himself and pulled. The move caught Noojin in mid-stride. She peeled from the corridor roof and thudded against the floor.
The Lemylian grabbed a fresh hold on the grappling line and pulled again hard enough that Noojin skipped across the floor.
Before Kiwanuka could fire, a second Lemylian stepped from the cargo hatch with a Kerch shrapnel burster in her arms. Mercilessly, she took aim at Noojin’s back.
Still struggling to get to her feet, realizing that Goldberg had been left dazed by the unexpected attack, Kiwanuka shifted her aim to the second Lemylian and fired. Even with the enhanced supports wired into her reinforced spine, the shotgun blast felt like it was going to tear Kiwanuka’s shoulder free like it had felt every time she’d used it before.
The double-aught burst struck the female Lemylian in the chest and face as she fired her weapon. The flaming shrapnel load smashed against the corridor floor only centimeters from where Noojin had been. The girl was already running up the side of the corridor and heading for the male Lemylian.
Kiwanuka flexed her bionic arm and cycled another round into the chamber in her forearm and watched in disbelief as the female Lemylian stirred back to life. Shredded flesh hung from her head and shoulders as she sat up and turned her attention to Kiwanuka. The Lemylian roared, her mouth dripping gore, pushed herself to one knee, and leveled her weapon.
Goldberg got to her feet, still listing to the side. Kiwanuka fired again and rode out the recoil as she dove for her Roley. She slid on her stomach across the corridor floor, grabbed the weapon, changed her bionic arm back to its normal mode, and brought the Roley to her shoulder as she pushed herself to her feet in front of Goldberg.
The female Lemylian face hung in tatters. One of her eyes was gone. The other was cyber and stood out in sharp, gleaming relief and still tracked her target with manic speed.
Behind the female Lemylian, the male drew a short sword and reached for Noojin as the girl pushed herself to her feet.
Kiwanuka squeezed the grenade launcher’s trigger and fired a grenade into the Lemylian’s open, broken-fanged maw. The gel explosive glowed an instant before it detonated.
Hammered by the concussive wave, Kiwanuka slid backward a few meters before she placed her gloved hand on the corridor floor and activated the magnetics. Fire-suppression systems kicked on and a blizzard of white foam filled the corridor. The metal surface turned slick.
Kiwanuka screeched to a halt and rolled over immediately. She peered through the smoke that almost filled the corridor to see what had happened to Noojin. The fire-suppression systems kicked off, their charges expended in seconds. The foam, looking like new fallen snow, covered the lower section of the corridor.
The female Lemylian lay headless and still only a few meters away. A few meters farther on, covered in foam, Noojin lay facedown with one arm twisted up behind her. The male Lemylian’s big hand clasped Noojin’s forearm and held it behind her, but he was gasping and clutching at the hunting knife that jutted from his throat.
As Kiwanuka got to her feet, the Lemylian shuddered and relaxed in death. She hurt all over and her vision doubled in frantic bursts.
Would you like something from the pain management suite, Staff Sergeant? the near-AI asked.
“No,” Kiwanuka answered as she took stock of the corridor.
Goldberg righted herself carefully. Nothing else in the corridor moved.
Kiwanuka’s HUD showed that Noojin was still alive, but that didn’t mean she’d escaped brain damage or a bad concussion. Kiwanuka strode forward, aware that the AKTIVsuit aided her in keeping her balance.
The hatch the Lemylians had come through hung by its hinges. A narrow passageway filled with darkness stretched out behind it. Blast scarring scored the bulkhead, visible behind the detritus of the female Lemylian.
Kiwanuka held the Roley at the ready as she stood over Noojin. Grimly, Kiwanuka reached down to the girl’s shoulder and gently shifted her. Noojin flexed and rolled to
her feet a meter away. She drew her hunting knives in a blur of movement and crouched in a ready stance.
“Noojin,” Kiwanuka said softly. “Are you with me?”
For a moment Noojin’s stance held, then she relaxed and stood a little straighter.
“Yes,” Noojin said. “That was you with the grenade?”
“Didn’t have a choice at the moment.”
Noojin nodded. “I’m surprised the ship held together.”
“These things are made more resilient than they look. You ready to go on?”
Noojin recovered her rifle and knelt beside the fallen Lemylian. “I am. This one’s still alive.” She drew one of her knives.
“Keep him that way.”
Noojin hesitated. “When you’re in hunting territory, leaving a wounded predator behind you isn’t a good idea.”
The statement surprised Kiwanuka because Noojin had broken from the Terran military. Kiwanuka had thought that was because the girl hadn’t wanted to kill people. Evidently that wasn’t the case, and her hunter’s instincts were at the forefront now.
Kiwanuka captured a picture of the unconscious Lemylian. “We don’t kill helpless combatants.”
She rolled the alien over and pulled his hands together behind his back. A burst of restraining foam pumped through her armor’s reservoir bound the Lemylian’s hands together. Another secured his feet.
Kiwanuka stood and sent the captured image off to Veug with instructions to find out who the Lemylian was from Tactical Ops and perhaps have more information about how many ship’s crew they were dealing with.
Kiwanuka turned her attention to Goldberg. “Corporal?”
Goldberg straightened herself. “Ready, Staff Sergeant.”
“Move out.”
Goldberg headed forward and Kiwanuka fell into step behind her. Hatch after hatch opened, but no one else stepped through one of them.
“Staff Sergeant,” Veug called.
“Go,” Kiwanuka replied.
“Your hostile is in the criminal database on Makaum and other planets,” the computer specialist said. “His name’s Taidend. At least, that’s the way it translates. He’s got a history of smuggling, robbery, and murder. There are warrants out on him in eight systems. He usually runs with a female Lemylian named Issor, so you may want to watch for her.”
“She’s accounted for,” Kiwanuka said. “He’s not part of the crew.”
“Roger that. Probably local talent our targets picked up to handle grunt work and to better fit in with the established crews and businesses.”
Kequaem’s Needle had a small crew. Uncle Huang’s spies had confirmed only six to ten crewmembers, and was only able to identify five of them. Morlortai, the assassin. Darrantia, the ship’s mechanic. An Angenen named Turit who served as the ship’s armorer. Daus, an ex-Silver Spin Corp R&D scientist. And the pilot, Wiyntan, a Turoissan.
All of them had records in the system.
Ahead, Goldberg crouched at one of the hatch openings running along the ship’s spine and held up a fist. She brought her assault weapon to the ready position and peered over the sights.
“Bridge is dead ahead, Staff Sergeant,” Goldberg said. “But there are two Gatner heavy machine gun fléchette firmpoints by the hatch.”
Kiwanuka took cover on the other side of the hatch opening and peered at the gun emplacements. Their specs rolled up on her HUD at the same time the guns came online and spewed streams of fléchette rounds that studded and scarred the bulkheads, floor, ceiling, and hatch frame.
Kiwanuka lifted her weapon and took quick aim. “Gel-grenades, Corporal.”
Sharp-edged fléchettes ricocheted from the Roley and from the combat suit’s arm. Some of the rounds jutted out from her weapon and her armor.
She squeezed the trigger and launched a tri-burst that splatted onto and around the Gatner machine gun on the right of the hatch leading to the bridge access lift. She ducked back and counted down even though the HUD flashed the sequence on her faceshield.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Dramorper
Southwest of Makaum City
0523 Hours Zulu Time
Sage stood out of the way in the submersible’s command center. Since the space was so small, even built to Phrenorian dimensions, the task was difficult.
From his position, the monitors that showed the submersible’s progress ten meters beneath the surface of the Yeraf River were visible. Two of the monitors offered digital displays of the boat and its place in relation to the river bottom. All of that was rendered in red on black. Numbers around the submersible flickered and changed constantly. Sage had watched long enough to realize those numbers reflected relative distance from the surface, the river bottom, and the banks on either side.
Other monitors tracked the proximity of large objects, like the jasulild that trailed in the submersible’s wake and occasionally swam up to “challenge” what they must have thought was an invader in their water by ramming them. The attacks only happened randomly, enough to create a barrage of noise throughout the boat and knock it slightly off-course each time, but Sage knew they could have been much worse. Jahup had told him stories of how jasulild had destroyed early boats and ships. That was one of the reasons the Makaum people hadn’t used the rivers as transport, or lived too close to them. Jasulild could, for a time, live outside the rivers because they had limited amphibious abilities.
“Brace yourselves,” a young private at the workstation to Pingasa’s left warned. “Snaggletooth is making another run at us.”
Pingasa had nicknamed the jasulild after the first few attempts the behemoth had made on the submersible. One of the underwater drones slaved to the Phrenorian boat had captured an image of the jasulild when it swam for them. Scars covered the jasulild’s face, turning the cold features into something that looked positively malevolent. That declaration had come from Corrigan. The thing was also missing several of its fangs, but that made it no less lethal.
“The creature is getting more antagonistic,” Pingasa said. “It’s been less than two minutes since its last attack.” He held on to his seat as the jasulild closed in. The thing definitely wasn’t going to settle for a threat this time.
The impact sent shivers through the submersible and the hollow bong of contact echoed through the boat’s compartments.
“Have you figured out the weapons console yet, Private Escobedo?” Sage asked.
Private Remedios Escobedo, still a little worse for the wear from the attack on the Zukimther mercenaries only a day ago, sat at the weps station. She was one of the few soldiers at the fort who was certified to recover and reverse-engineer alien technology the Terran military encountered in their postings. She specialized in weapons systems.
“I’ve got most of it, Master Sergeant,” she replied.
“Do you have something that might encourage that thing to go somewhere else? I don’t want it dead. That might alert the Phrenorians, or bring the rest of the pack down on us.”
“The submersible’s equipped with a passive resistance suite,” Escobedo said. “I’m confident that I can trigger an electric grid around the boat if the creature returns.”
“Do that, then,” Sage said. He was in command of the operation while Lieutenant Murad sorted through the Phrenorian log files. Communicating with the Sting-Tail base was going to be a problem. Pingasa had come up with a suggestion to work around that.
Sage hated feeling useless in the submarine’s bridge. With everything going to pieces, with Makaum’s people in jeopardy, and with his fellow soldiers putting their lives on the line, he needed to be doing something.
Piloting one of those vessels was beyond his paygrade. The AKTIVsuit carried some schematics and instructions regarding the boat that might have helped him stay alive, but it wasn’t enough to pass any observation made by Phrenorian warriors watching the vessel’s arrival at their secret base.
Pingasa, on the other hand, handled the boat like he’d been born to it. He sat at the controls
and worked smoothly. In the beginning there had been a learning curve that had included a small collision with the riverbank and a few minutes spent repairing a leak. There had been some good-natured taunting, with an undercurrent of nervousness, but everyone had settled in.
A repair crew had also patched the hole Sage had made when he’d gained entrance. The bodies of the Phrenorians had been jettisoned into the river. Although the river current flowed toward the hidden base established by General Rangha, the submersible would arrive there well before the dead enemy had been scheduled to.
Lieutenant Murad stood at the CIC. “It says here that the boat is called the Dramorper.”
The red glow of the instruments before him and around the Command Information Center made his features look eerie and his voice sounded strange to Sage, but maybe that was caused by the close confines of the submersible’s command center.
Even in his AKTIVsuit, which was underwater capable, Sage didn’t like the idea of being trapped in the submersible while in the depths of the river. The experience with the well might have been weighing on him, but he’d never liked water. The danger of open space bothered him a lot less.
Murad ran a decryption device over the computer terminal he had accessed with Pingasa’s help. “At least, that’s the nearest I can come to managing the syllabic translation.” He looked around. “Does anyone know what a dramorper is?”
“It’s probably not something edible,” Pingasa offered from the helm.
“Nope,” Culpepper agreed over the suit comms. He was busy with another crew setting up explosives throughout the submersible. The plan was to use the boat as a weapon against the fortress in a surprise attack. “It’s probably some evil, nasty thing as big as a jumpcopter that lives in the Phrenorian oceans and only wants to eat your face.”
“Shouldn’t this decryption device tell me?” Murad asked.
“The translator’s more like a broad spectrum unit, Lieutenant,” Pingasa said. “The software will get you close to the actual words, but it’s not going to convert everything. Think of it as a hand grenade, not a sniper rifle.”
