Precursor Revenants (The Precursor Series Book 1)

by Cain Hopwood

  “Hang tight, I’m going to take a look around. Maybe there’s another way out, An air duct or something.”

  The cockpit wasn’t big, but it paid to be methodical so he started at the back, checking either side of the now closed hatch, then in the ceiling. Controls and display’s covered most surfaces. With a fire on board, the cockpit would become a death trap, so there had to be another exit.

  “Check the canopy sir, there might be a release or control somewhere. I’d be surprised if there wasn’t some kind of manual override.”

  “Good idea,” he mumbled.

  He examined the edges of the canopy, there didn’t seem to be any seam or seal. It seemed as if the metal of the hull turned transparent above the three flight couches. The only way he could see it opening, would be if the whole roof swung back.

  He moved towards the front most flight couch. “Now if I were the pilot,” he muttered.

  His intention was to sit in the seat, hoping that an ejection handle would become obvious. But as he moved forward an excited whispering started in the back of his mind. It took all his willpower to push it back, but even so the urge to lie down in the front seat was palpable.

  With a shaking hand, he reached out and touched the side of the couch. A current ran up his arm, and the whispering that had been hovering at the back of his awareness became a single, strong, voice in his mind.

  ~Happiness-having, join-with, guide.

  Jon hesitated, the voice had a puppy like eagerness. It wasn’t communicating in words as such, more emotions, desires. He eased himself into the flight couch. It adjusted to his body; then a tingle ran from fingertips to toes and finished at the base of his spine.

  For a moment the world went black, then he had the sense that the ship was gone and he was resting on his skids in the gigantic hangar. He could sense the size of the place, and the other ships around him. They were also eager to fly, but were alas without guidance.

  “Where am I?” he thought.

  ~You are with. You-me fly?

  “No,”

  The disappointment the ship felt was palpable, flooding through his mind. With an effort he ignored it, and in the process he felt he was gaining a little more control over the connection.

  “Well, not yet. Soon,” he said, this time out loud.

  ~Happy-anticipation. You-me-fly, you-me-fly.

  “Calm down, soon.”

  Then Jon noticed a strange sensation in his belly, no the ship’s belly. “What’s that?”

  ~Goods access open making.

  Jon let his awareness flow through the ship, down to the hatch and once there he ‘looked’ outside. A couple of squads of Marbelites had gathered at the ramp he and Gritz had entered by. With them were two more Ka-Li, one of which was tapping a control in his belly. It tickled.

  “Close it now!” he said.

  ~Doing.

  The ramp closed.

  “And lock it.”

  ~Lock?

  “No-one is to open it unless I allow it.”

  ~Done.

  That made Jon think of the earlier boarders, who were still probably trying to get into the cockpit. He could sense that four of them were in the companionway just outside, and two more were in the main hold.

  “Close and lock every internal hatch,” he said.

  ~Doing.

  He heard a series of clunks and felt the hatches close in his —the ship’s— body.

  A sharp crackle in his ear brought his awareness back to the cockpit. “Lieutenant, now’s not really the best time for a nap. Also, you’re sleep talking.”

  He double tapped a tooth. “I’m not napping, I’m connected to the ship. At least I think I’m connected to the ship.”

  ~You-me melded.

  “Apparently the term is melded. It seems to be how the ship is controlled.”

  “You’re not thinking of flying it are you?”

  Jon could hear the skepticism in Skip’s voice, even over the highly compressed tac-link. “It’s either try, or accept capture. Given what’s onboard, even if all we do is crash outside the hangar, that’ll delay whatever plans they have. Besides, I don’t think I’ll be flying it as such, more telling it where to go.”

  “Well, whatever you do, you’d better do it quick. According to his vitals, Gritz is going downhill fast.”

  “Give him another shot of trauma pharm. I’ll get this beast in the air.”

  “Okay. Um, sir?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about us?”

  Jon thought for a minute. He could feel the two Marbelites in his main hold. The others were still in the cockpit companionway, and that’s where they’d stay while he had control over the doors.

  “I’ll come and get you, but I’m not empty. There’s two Marbelites in the hold, so you might have to fight your way in. Or fight them when they come out.”

  “Just two? We should be able to handle them.”

  Jon let his awareness meld with the ship’s, and once again he was crouched in the hangar. “Let’s go,” he said.

  ~Where you-me go?

  Jon’s awareness expanded until the hangar, and his own body, were mere points. The ship presented him with a myriad of options. He could see the whole planet and the ship was inviting him to choose a destination. Also shown were the many possible pathways to each one, some of which he sensed were harder, no steeper, than others.

  ~Want more?

  The planet shrank in a dizzying fashion.

  “No!” he yelled, and the view vanished to be replaced by the cockpit.

  The sense of hurt and disappointment from the ship flooded through the meld, and he instinctively let his awareness join with it again.

  “Sorry,” he thought. “That was overwhelming. For now, we just need to get out of the hangar. Then go somewhere nearby.”

  ~Preceptor guide you-me to clear sky.

  “Guide? Okay. Can we launch please?”

  ~Affirmative.

  Jon felt the ship power up, it was a warmth in his belly. Then a moment later it lifted. Instinctively he retracted his skids. Then he looked around. There was a narrow corridor of clear hangar, a taxiway of sorts, and he started moving along it.

  The feeling was not unlike swimming underwater, except without all the usual flailing of limbs. He drifted a little to the right to avoid a badly parked fighter, then when he reached the end of the taxiway, he rotated through ninety degrees to face the open hangar door.

  With what felt like a kick of his legs he picked up speed, shot out the door, and curved up into the sky. The elation flooding through his link with the ship was visceral.

  “I could get used to this,” He said.

  ~Flight joyful. Where you-me go?

  “Nearby,” he thought. He reached out through the ship’s sensors and felt the mountain range they were rapidly ascending beside.

  “Near the top,” he thought, looking for the peak behind where they’d dug the snow cave. A moment later he had it. The ship was already well above the peak, so he banked sharply and descended in a smooth curve.

  The flight was effortless, like skiing the finest champagne powder. He glided through the air and descended on the place that Skip and Murdoch had holed up in.

  In a cloud of flying snow he came to a hover just outside the snow cave.

  ~Surface unsuitable.

  “I know, we’ll just hover a moment. We need to pick a couple of my men up. Open the lower hatch.”

  Jon was watching through one of the ships external feeds as the ramp lowered. As soon as it was open, the two Marbelites in the hold bolted, diving off the end and disappearing into the snowy background. A moment later Skip and Murdoch appeared ahead, they slogged through the snow, grabbed onto the ramp and hauled themselves aboard.

  “I expected more trouble from them,” Skip said over the tac-link.

  “They know how to disappear in this terrain though,” Murdoch said with a note of respect.

  “I’m sure if you were covered in whi
te fur, you’d be able to vanish as well,” Skip replied. “Okay lieutenant, lets go.”

  Jon raised his external ramp and with a kick of his legs lifted the ship clear of the surface.

  ~You-me where go?

  Jon allowed the ship to expand his awareness until he could see just the planet’s northern continent. It only took him a moment to find where the base was. He selected it, and chose the lowest, fastest route available.

  “Hang on Gritz,” he thought, as the ship accelerated off into the angry red early morning sky.

  After they’d been underway for several minutes, Jon looked back using the ship’s sensors. He wasn’t quite sure exactly how he was looking back, or what he was looking back with, but the important thing was the lack of any pursuit.

  “We must have caught them on the hop ship,” he muttered.

  ~Not understanding, you-me want?

  “Don’t worry.”

  ~Worry?

  Despite being voice controlled, or maybe thought controlled, the ship wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Still it made better conversation than Annelise’s cat.

  Jon knew the redoubt was about a thousand clicks from the coast. While he didn’t know exactly how fast they were going, he did somehow ‘know’ how far along his selected path they’d gone. Mountains, hills, valleys and lakes passed under him, and all had a hint of familiarity; like the features on his regular running path along the river back home. So, he ‘knew’ exactly where he was. It was more than a little uncanny. Especially considering the only other time he’d been over this terrain, he’d been in the back of a transport, and in the dark.

  He got the feeling that there was still a good ten minutes before they’d be approaching the coast, so he thought it would be a good idea to check on Gritz. Mentally, he pulled back from the ship and tried to break the meld.

  ~You-me, unmeld, impossible, in-flight.

  The ship wasn’t letting him go. “I need to check Gritz.”

  ~You-me, unmeld, cannot. You-me, require guide.

  Okay, he thought. So the ship needs a pilot in the seat at all times. Maybe that was why it had three forward flight couches. It would allow them to switch pilots on long flights. Whatever the reason it looked like he was stuck here. It rankled, but the harsh reality was that there wasn’t a great deal he could do for Gritz without a med kit, anyway. Gritz would just have to survive the trip on his own.

  “Can we go any faster?”

  ~You-me, atmospheric maximum achieving, atmosphere dense.

  Jon had chosen the low level route assuming it would make it easier to escape any pursuit and avoid detection from the base. But, maybe the ship knew other options.

  “Are there faster routes that allow us to approach the base with little chance of detection?”

  He sensed the ship’s eagerness to provide him with choices as it mapped out different ways for them to travel the remaining distance to the coast. There weren’t a lot of choices, but he immediately discarded the high altitude and ballistic paths. Jon didn’t know what would happen when he approached the base, but with no way to contact them, he figured they’d scramble a couple of fighters at the very least.

  His only hope was to sneak in as close as he could, then land near where the regiment was billeted. As least then he’d be able to get Gritz to Captain Lepok with little delay.

  Jon briefly flirted with a high, looping flight path, but this close to his destination it didn’t really make that much difference, as he’d have to first climb, then descend in addition to covering the distance. Also, the last thing he wanted to imitate was a ballistic missile, assuming the Galactics had them.

  “Hold the current course,” he said, and discarded all the options.

  — 42 —

  Colonel Whitfield was listening, for seemingly the thousandth time, to the recording of the two Marbelites from the redoubt, when an operator interrupted.

  “Sir, a data package just arrived. It’s from Lieutenant Moss. It’s flagged and signed at his highest priority level.”

  “Moss? Where is he?”

  “That’s the odd thing, the package is tagged with co-ordinates about halfway between here and the no fly zone.” The officer frowned. “That’s odd, It came in via laser.”

  “In this weather?”

  “Could have been a break in the clouds. If so, he got lucky. Hold on.” The officer pulled up a map. “Of course, the transmission came from a range of hills that would have line of sight to here. It would be a good spot for a relay.”

  “That’s over seven hundred clicks from the redoubt. Who’s on standby?”

  “Lieutenant Bakowski’s squad.”

  The colonel grimaced. “Put me through to her.”

  A moment later Michelle Bakowski’s face appeared on the console. “Sir?”

  “Grab your squad. I want you in gunship four in ninety seconds. Anyone not onboard by then, is to be left behind. You’ll get more specific orders en route.”

  “On it, sir.” The image jumped as Bakowski leapt into action and started yelling at her troops.

  “And Bakowski.”

  “Sir,” she said, without breaking stride.

  “Try not to blow anything useful up.”

  A glint appeared in the lieutenant’s eye. “I always try, sir.”

  The colonel cut the connection. Bakowski led the regiment’s best demo squad, and they were the best by a wide margin. Unfortunately, like the proverbial man with a hammer, to her, every problem looked like it could be solved with high explosives. Still, her squad was on standby, so they were the ones to go.

  The colonel turned to the operator. “Get that gunship in the air in ninety seconds on the dot.”

  “Sir, what about flight clearance? That usually takes time.”

  “I don’t care about clearance. Tell them it’s a medical emergency. We’ll get clearance after the fact if we have to.”

  “Sir, aren’t you going to look at what Moss sent first?”

  “As soon as Bakowski’s underway. We need that volantor out there as much for its communications capability, as for Bakowski’s support. Moss has been briefed, he’d only use that priority level for an imminent regimental level threat.”

  The officer swallowed. “Do you want me to contact Admiral Katona?”

  “Yes, and wake the rest of the regiment. I want everyone ready for action.” The colonel strode purposefully back to his briefing room. “Patch me through when you’ve got the admiral on the line. I’ll be going over Moss’s data packet.”

  — 43 —

  The flight out of the mountains and towards the coast, didn’t in reality take longer than twenty minutes. But it was the longest twenty minutes of Jon’s life. The ship’s progress on track crept lethargically forward, while he nervously flicked between watching his rear for signs of pursuit, and scanning forward for base defenses.

  As they were coming up on the three-quarter mark, he started believing he might actually make it. With only a couple of minutes to go, the ship queried him.

  ~You-me standard approach? Alight where?

  A detailed image of the base bloomed in his mind. The ship was asking him where to land. “What’s the usual procedure?” he asked.

  ~Communication officer communicates, provides guidance. Communications officer not conscious.

  Jon blinked. Gritz must be at the comms station. That was going to be a problem. Jon couldn’t get up, and Gritz wasn’t awake. Not that either of them would have known how to operate the comms station, anyway.

  His eye flicked up to the comms relay he’d attached to the canopy, and an idea formed. The relay was designed for covert work, not broadcast, but may just be of use.

  He opened the tac-link. “Skip, Murdoch, can you access the comms relay in here?”

  “Just a sec lieutenant,” Skip said, killing the connection. A moment later he was back. “Yes, but there’s no external link.”

  “There wouldn’t be. But, I’ve got no way to communicate with the base,
and we need to let them know we’re not hostile, and coming in hot. That relay is all we’ve got.”

  “Understood sir, it’s a long shot, and we’ll only have laser. What’s the vis like?”

  “A couple of clicks, but getting better every second.”

  “I’ll set it up, once we’re in sight we should be able to get some kind of message out.”

  “Good, if you get through, tell them I’m landing right next to headquarters. We’ll need a medical team for Gritz, and a squad to deal with our stowaways.”

  Jon let his awareness meld back with the ship. He could sense the coast coming up, and wondered for a moment what incoming fire would feel like. Would he feel the hits on the ship through the meld, he thought, and a shiver ran down his spine.

  — 44 —

  Colonel Whitfield was arguing with flight operations control, when a frantic, gesticulating operations officer interrupted. The colonel held up a hand to acknowledge the officer and continued talking. “My gunship will continue with or without your authority. You can either grant it now, or I’ll take this up directly with the admiral. You have ten seconds to decide.”

  He stabbed the hold glyph, then looked at the officer. “Go.”

  “Sir, gunship four has something big on its radar, and it’s headed this way.”

  “Are you sure it’s not one of our host’s patrols?”

  “Positive sir, I checked with flight control.” The officer wrinkled his mouth. “They didn’t believe me. They said our scanners were primitive and useless.”

  The colonel grunted. “That they may be. But even our hosts can’t see through rock. Our radar may be basic by their standards, but it’s in a gunship. It’ll be seeing a lot further than their scanners.”

  With a couple of taps, he slaved the table with the gunship’s sensor suite. The radar contact was massive, the gunship’s navigator had already designated it as bogey alpha. Alpha was flying low, though it wouldn’t be long before even the local ground based scanners would pick it up.