by John Walker
Despite all his struggling, he couldn’t escape all those men holding him and when the gun discharged, it did so inside the shield. The body went limp and fell to the ground in a heap, taking three men with it.
On the other side, the other two tore through the blockade and slapped aside the marines before fleeing down the hall. “Breach!” A soldier’s voice shouted over the line. “Heading down corridor seven and fast! Two contacts! Be advised, targets are shielded!”
The next group of men started asking questions but they didn’t get any answers before the aliens were upon them. They unleashed a flurry of fire but once again, the attackers rushed, barreling through the marines like bowling balls. The scattered soldiers regained their feet and gave chase, calling ahead to warn the elevator defenders to watch their fire.
Back at the shuttle, the marines there approached the opening and cast lights within. There was nothing but an empty chamber, void of even seats. One small panel graced the smooth walls, presumably the button to open the door. Dupont shook his head, amazed by the way their enemy worked.
They had no intention of getting back to their people.
“Contact!” The elevator guards shouted.
“We’re right on them!” Dupont watched the cameras as a full dozen marines sprinted down the hall as fast as they could. The elevator guards braced themselves. Their enemies finally slowed, perhaps knowing they couldn’t burst through the doors of the elevator.
“They’re cornered!” Dupont called. “This is when they become the most dangerous! Take them out, guys! Do it now!”
As predicted, the aliens went into a frenzy, flailing at anything close to them. One marine got tossed against a wall where he slumped to the floor, unmoving. Another took a backhand to the head and dropped like a sack of flour. The massive arms acted as battering rams and when one hit a wall, Dupont saw a dent.
It took three men to slow one down by jumping on its back. This hampered its ability to move enough for another to place his side arm against its chest and fire several shots. Each blow made it jerk unnaturally before it finally slumped under the weight of the soldiers who brought it to the ground.
A final shot to the head finished it off.
More marines converged on the scene, backing the final alien into a corner. It looked about frantically, seeming to search for any means of escape. Fifteen marines aimed their weapons at it, standing at no more than five feet away. It tensed up but before it could move, they all blasted away, concentrating their fire on the upper torso.
The thing’s shields couldn’t handle that much energy and after a brief moment of resistance, the shield vanished. No one stopped shooting and the body danced against the wall, thrashing its way to death with over a thousand rounds of ammunition to keep it company. “Cease fire!” Dupont yelled. “It’s done, guys! You got it!”
He had to repeat the order once more when an overzealous soldier put three more rounds in the thing’s head as it fell to the ground.
“Okay, okay, let’s secure the area, men. Stabilize the wounded and get them to sick bay right away.” Dupont rubbed his eyes. “Report back in five minutes.” He clicked over to the bridge. “Captain Atwell, the situation down here is under control. I’ve got some good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
“I’d rather hear something positive.”
“Okay, we’ve got some alien technology and bodies for research purposes. At least one of them is mostly intact. The shuttle’s also undamaged.”
“That is good. So what’s the bad?”
“These things are bad news,” Dupont said. “I’m sending you a video of what they’re capable of. We’re going to need to adjust our ground tactics to contend with that kind of threat…in a major way. I’m talking overhaul.”
“Understood.” Gray sighed. “Thank you, Marshall. Good job holding them back. We prevented them from whatever havoc they wanted to commit. I’d like to be present when you debrief your men.”
“After we’ve won this battle, we’ll all get together, Gray.” Dupont smirked. “I kept up my side of things, now it’s your turn.”
“We’re on it, my friend. We’re on it.”
Chapter 18
Gray finished watching the video of the alien attack and shook his head. These beings, whatever they were, lacked all self preservation. They fought zealously, heedless of repercussions or personal safety. Earth people dealt with such fanaticism before but this felt different. These…things for lack of a better word cared more about their cause than their lives.
The mission came first. It granted an insight into their enemy, a point which made them all the more dangerous. If they truly fell into a violent, quasi religious state, then humanity, and the alliance, needed to prepare themselves for some facts. First, there’d be no surrender without an extreme catalyst. Second, their people were willing to die so threats were useless.
Half measures left the table. They could only teach the enemy through total and complete victory.
Gray glanced at Clea. “Did you watch over my shoulder?”
“I did.”
“Thoughts?”
Clea sighed. “They are pretty much as I always assumed they’d be. This assault, their actions in general, all prove they’re little more than beasts driven by the will of another. Who designs their path, I don’t know but when we find them, I can promise you they’ll be the key to ending this war once and for all.”
“I believe they attacked this way because they wanted to get at our visitor,” Gray said. “And they figured three guys could do it.”
“I completely agree. There’s no other good reason for…well…for this.”
A report came back stating all the marines survived but a few were in critical condition. One received a concussion and his doctor took him off active duty for two weeks. Another shattered his collarbone and would be in recovery for six weeks. The rest of the casualties involved sprains, bruises and some superficial cuts.
They’d all been very lucky.
Gray patched in to Laura. “Do you have anything for me yet?”
“We’ve just finished going over the biology we received from the alien vessel…er…the friendly one. We’re about to risk an injection which should help him recover.”
“How quickly, doctor?” Gray snapped. He closed his eyes and took a breath. “I don’t mean to be testy but we’re under the gun here.”
“I understand. We’re giving him a compound which is designed for extreme cases. In a small enough dose, it won’t hurt him but it should reduce his symptoms enough to regain his memory. But Gray, I can’t promise this will work. The man might simply need time. We don’t know anything about suspended animation sickness.”
“Let me know the moment he remembers something. Gray out.” He stood and checked the scanners. The enemy remained where they were, holding their distance. Small skirmishes continued around them as fighters clashed but no real engagements occurred. The next one would be final. One side or the other had to lose.
It’s all up to you who that is, Doc. Make this count.
***
“Doctor Brand?” Max hurried over to her. “The compound is ready. I’ve made some slight changes to account for his alien physiology. The info we got from Cathleen and our own tests indicated we needed to up the inhibitor in the drug to compensate for a rather high metabolism. His body will take to the shot very quickly.”
“That’s the first bit of good news I’ve heard,” Laura replied, “but I know the risks that presents. If we give him too much, he might assimilate it all at once and simply die.”
“Yes, the inhibitor will force his body to accept it at the interval we intend it to work. It’s a slow release drug, meant to take several minutes. Even with my modification, I’m guessing we’re going to see almost instantaneous results.”
Laura nodded and extended her hand. “Give me the hypo. I’ll administer it.”
“Are you sure?” Max grinned. “You’re not exactly the best wh
en it comes to tapping a vein.”
She widened her eyes. “Really? Who says?”
“Er…every patient unfortunate enough to have you poke them.”
Laura shook her head. “Fine, you give it to him then, Mister Expert.” She smiled. “See how you do on your next evaluation.”
“I’m managing up, what can I say?” Max and Laura joined Captain Paltein on each side of his bed. He lifted his device so he could understand what they had to say. Max addressed him. “Hi, sir. We’re ready to give you something which should help your memory. It’s a shot though so it’s going to hurt roughly as much as when we took a little blood, okay?”
A moment of translation passed before the device replied, “he states this is acceptable.”
“Okay, here we go.” Max pushed the man’s sleeve up, revealing his wrist. He tensed his hand around the man’s forearm, squeezing until the veins became prominent beneath the cool, shimmering skin. “I’ve got one.” He pressed the needle down until he felt flesh surrender. A bead of blood appeared just as he depressed the plunger, administering the clear drug into the man’s system.
“Now we wait.”
The device translated then asked, “what’re we waiting for?”
“Oh, that wasn’t meant for him,” Max replied, “but we just need to wait for the stuff to work.”
“Understood.”
Laura watched the chronometer on her tablet, counting along with the seconds. In a normal person, the compound would begin to take effect in five minutes. They gave him a quarter of the typical dose but even so, his body should accept it quickly. Visual confirmation may come in several ways from an expression to tension to a sudden recovery of his memories.
“Doctor,” Max whispered. “Look.”
Laura tore her eyes from the tablet, frowning at her patient. Captain Paltein tensed up, closing his eyes tightly. He writhed to the left, drawing his legs up toward his chest. Hands clenched then released and he opened his mouth as if to scream. Did we screw up? Did he have an allergic reaction after all? Jesus, I have to get a scanner.
Finally, he settled down, panting as if he just finished a marathon. His mouth opened slightly, jaw slack and eyes closed. Laura touched his arm, noting how cool his skin felt. She ran her scanner over him and the results shocked her. His temperature went down to what she’d consider human normal, his blood pressure and heart rate also slowed or, perhaps normalized.
Brain swelling can show through all manner of symptoms. Now that we know what their vitals should be, we’ll have an easier time helping his people when we wake them up. Of course, it might be better to find one of their doctors before we do…
Captain Paltein opened his eyes as he caught his breath, stretching his neck. He pursed his lips and began rattling off information in his tongue, speaking so rapidly, Laura thought he might simply be making random sounds. Perhaps I spoke too soon. When he finished, the translation device spoke up.
“The Captain states he feels some minor discomfort but his memory seems to have returned. Exhaustion threatens to overwhelm him, however and he does not feel he has much time before he’ll need rest. He has questions and possibly answers as well. First, he would like to know if his people are well.”
Laura nodded. “They are still in the suspended animation chambers but all signs indicate they are fine.”
The translator spoke to him. He mumbled back.
“Will you revive them as well?”
“Absolutely,” Laura replied. “However, right now we need your help. We can answer all of your questions soon but right now, I believe we need something from you.” She nodded to Max who tapped at his tablet.
“Cathy! This guy has his memory,” Max’s excitement came out in a boisterous lilt, a bit louder than was necessary and half a pitch higher than normal. “What do you need to know?”
“Olly!” Cathleen’s voice blared over his speaker and he held it away. “The guy’s awake and remembers stuff! What do we need?”
“Authorization for the databases,” Olly shouted back. “His security code to get us in the computers and anything he knows about Protocol Seven!”
Max related the information to the captain and the device translated quickly. The captain sighed, his expression turning sad. “I understand,” the translator declared for him. “I am sending his authorization codes to your tablet to transmit over to your crew. He states Protocol Seven was discovered at great personal risk to their intelligence agency. Through research and study, they found a structural weakness in the enemy shields, a flaw to exploit.”
“I don’t know anything about defensive architecture,” Laura said, turning to Max. “Do you?”
Max shook his head. “Not a thing.”
“I’m sure our people will make good use of this information,” Laura patted the man on the shoulder. “Please, rest for now. We’ll tell you everything else you need to know later…when things have calmed down.”
The translator spoke again, “he states he appreciates all you’ve done and only wishes his people had encountered yours before the enemy. He believes your two cultures have much to share.”
“I’m sure that’s true.” Laura smiled. “We’ll talk soon, sir. C’mon, Max. We still have other patients to attend to.”
***
Olly hurried to his console and entered the security codes from Captain Paltein. He stepped back and watched the screen intently, waiting for it to accept or deny his entry. Sid’s strange, squiggly lines appeared and danced about, forming a multicolored wave form before finally settling on white.
A command line appeared but thousands of lines of code flashed by in a manner of seconds. He couldn’t make any of them out but his tablet suggested the security protocols were lowering and, at the same time, rebuilding the database structures and links. Over the course of thirty seconds, he witnessed the computer essentially come back to life.
“Welcome to the Tam’Dral, Lieutenant Darnell,” Sid’s voice echoed through the room. “Now you know the true name of the ship you’ve been calling The Silver Star. You now have full access to all systems.”
Olly and Cathy cheered, slapping each other on the backs but their excitement lasted only a moment. There was too much to do for celebration quite yet and they needed this Protocol Seven. He stepped forward and tapped away at the screen, searching the database for more information.
Exodus. An entry caught his eye and he sent it to his tablet before letting the system continue to search the archives for what he needed. As it started through the motions, he stepped back and turned on the video he downloaded. The description suggested Tam’Dral cameras recorded the footage.
The screen faded in to space with a brilliant, teal and green planet in the background. Three ships hovered in orbit bombarding the system. Bright, orange flashes appeared across the surface from pulse blasts and some other kind of attack he didn’t recognize. They shrunk away just as the teal faded to a dull gray.
I just witnessed the death of a culture…and a whole lot more. Olly bit his lip and shook his head. This could just as easily have been us three years ago.
Cathy leaned on him while they watched and he offered her what comfort he could muster. Truthfully, he had a hard time not feeling a sick helplessness himself. The fighting nature of his people burned in his stomach and watching such injustice made him all the more passionate about stopping such atrocities.
“Protocol Seven located,” Sid announced. “Downloading the information to your tablet right now.”
“Thank you, Sid.” Olly’s excitement had been cowed by the video but his raw determination took over. He read the information and stood up straighter. This makes perfect sense.
All shields operated through vibration frequencies, essentially, how fast they moved to stop incoming debris or weapons, depending on the grade. These were regulated through computer systems which randomized the speed so no one could match grade their settings and ignore them with a weapon.
Protocol Seven discove
red the algorithm used by the enemy computers. By plugging this information into their scanners and matching them to their weapons, they’d anticipate the next cycle and blast straight through their defenses to the sensitive hull beneath. This literally changes everything.
And if the enemy didn’t transmit back before they were destroyed, Protocol Seven would work in at least another engagement, if not more. The multifront war might be placated. The Alliance would have the upper hand. The galaxy itself might very well be rid of the enemy completely. This moment made the future a brighter thing.
Olly patched himself to the bridge of the Behemoth. “Captain Atwell, I’ve got some fantastic news.”
“What is it, Olly?” Gray replied. “Do you have Protocol Seven?”
“Yes, sir,” Olly confirmed. “I think it’s time to share it with the enemy if you’re so inclined. I suspect it’s the type of surprise party we’ve been waiting to throw.”
“Just tell us what to do and we’ll bring the appetizers.”
“It’s on its way. I’ll link up with Paul for the installation.” Olly switched over to begin work, unable to stop from smiling. It lacked all mirth, more of a satisfying grin of potential victory. If it worked as advertised, they’d be on their way home soon. If not…well…one way or another, this battle was about to end.
Chapter 19
Clea read through the Protocol Seven information Olly sent and shook her head. To think, this race we never encountered discovered a method of observing the enemy so well, they came away with such a weapon. Their end saddened her. Such industrious, clever people should not have been beaten to the brink of extinction.
At least their spirit will live on and we’ll certainly deliver their legacy to the enemy.
Clea’s people definitely needed this information. She felt a sense of urgency building in her chest, a desire to communicate with them immediately. Unfortunately, even if such a thing were possible, they still had to win the fight. If any commander could see them through, it would be Gray. She knew him to be clever but after witnessing him through this engagement, she recognized he more than deserved the respect she paid him.
